No one could answer the question gnawing at Gauss.
What he had to deal with right now was a goblin host of unknown strength and unknown size, led in the dark by something marshaling a swarm of vassals to encircle them.
If they were all common goblins, then short of a corps-sized horde in the thousands, they'd basically be feeding themselves to him.
But if there were powerful elites among them, that was a different story.
The goblin bat rider hung in the sky. Its exact tier was unclear, but judging from the power of that last throw, it was no small threat.
Worst of all, it held air superiority. They were stuck on the ground, unable to pressure it; attack, retreat, pursue—it could choose freely.
Which made Gauss think: when this job was over and he went to claim the guild reward, he needed to invest in anti-air capability—whether spell, mount, or something else.
"For now, we deal with what's right in front of us."
He glanced at the teammate beside him. "Shadow, please watch for attacks from above."
If he got tied up with ground targets, it was inevitable he'd slack on the bat rider overhead. Even knowing it was there, battle demands focus; unless he could completely overpower everything on the field, he couldn't watch all directions at once.
"Don't worry. I've got it," Shadow said, as terse as ever. "I'll watch the others, too."
After experiencing her transfer ability firsthand, the flat words carried a real sense of safety. It felt like she was quietly taking his back so he could fight without looking over his shoulder.
Gauss tightened his left hand on the white wand.
In the next instant, power surged from the inside out, flooding his body. Muscles rose slightly under his skin; a layer of energy scales re-ignited, clinging tight across pale flesh. He clenched his right hand; the scales along his forearm and fist flared, reshaped, lengthened, honed—condensing into a razor-edged dragon claw. His emerald eyes took on a slow, golden sheen. Any creature that met his gaze felt a faint, involuntary pressure—and on his already fine features, a cold, regal ferocity.
He rolled his neck; the joints crackled crisp and clear.
So this is the "special form" he meant?
Behind him, Shadow—and Shayde, her shadow—stared, both shaken. The aura rolling off him was far beyond a typical Level-3 Professional.
[My lady, could you beat him now?] Shayde murmured.
Shadow shook her head, dazed. Suddenly she understood why, back at the guild, he'd sounded so sure of himself when he'd said:
"Our levels aren't high, but our actual combat power is solid."
She hadn't contradicted him then, but had assumed he was saving face. He hadn't lied. So this is his confidence…
Her thoughts flashed and scattered because Gauss was already moving.
Common goblins closed in from all sides, brandishing spears, short blades, and swords—like puppets on strings, charging under orders. Even with Ironscale Bloodline flaring—his presence stacked with the Goblin Butcher title's suppression, making them tremble—they steadied in the next heartbeat.
"You, then?"
He looked toward a stand of trees. Far off, a short goblin stood between two hobgoblins, waving a faintly glowing staff again and again.
A Goblin Shaman—and judging by the feel, stronger than the one he'd run into on that earlier job.
He drew his focus back. That was good news for him.
Total Monsters Kill: 3,970.
Almost there, he thought. Thirty to go.
Aside from the bat rider overhead, nothing on the ground could really threaten him. Still, a boost before the main clash would be better than during. No need to make things harder than they had to be.
As for those snarling elites hanging back—he had a good guess at their plan: bleed him with fodder. To them, common goblins were disposable, easy to raise from nearby bands. It was sound strategy—trade worthless small fry for a human's stamina and mana, then engage on favorable terms. The rabble always grows back like weeds in spring.
Only… they'd run into Gauss.
A freak who gets stronger by killing.
Boom! He snapped his right arm; red-eyed goblins lunging to stab him saw their weapons shear like rotten twigs, their bodies sent flying as if struck by a maul. You could almost hear their lives wheeze out like a punctured bladder.
Total Monsters Kill: 3,975.
Fragility, defined—like autumn cicada wings, crushed between fingers. Hot currents trickled in from the dying goblins, restoring spent stamina: Bloodthirst, the second part of his Goblin Butcher title, had procced.
Arrows rained from afar. He didn't bother to dodge. Tips sparked off the energy scales with little rings of light and tinny clinks, then skittered away—deadly to a commoner, snowflakes to him.
He didn't slow. A thunderclap in human form, he smashed into the pack. Goblins around him flew, the force pulping organs—heart, spine—on impact. Some tried to run, but shoots silently sprouted from the ground underfoot. Green that should have meant life became their nightmare, snaring the last hope of escape.
Screams laced the dark. Gauss moved and cut, moved and cut, the counter ticking in his head:
3,980
3,984
3,988
3,996
3,999
…
With a few more goblins swatted away like rags—
Goblin Slain ×1.
The number rolled past 4,000—to 4,002—and a prompt flashed before his eyes:
[Total Monsters Kill: 4,000]
[Reward Unlocked: Level 2 Spell – Cloud of Daggers]
[Reward Unlocked: +1 Constitution]
[Next Milestone: 10,000 Total Monsters Kill]
A progress bar appeared below, with two intermediate ticks between 4,000 and 10,000.
He didn't have time to examine it. Warmth surged through him; the stamina he'd burned popped back to full—and higher. Constitution mattered a lot to him now; once Ironscale Bloodline was active, it ate not only mana but stamina. More CON meant he could maintain the stance longer.
And Cloud of Daggers was an excellent prize: a practical 2nd-circle conjuration that creates a roaming kill zone—a rotating storm of spectral blades that shreds anything inside and can be moved by the caster's will. Flexible, persistent AoE.
Str: 10
Dex: 9
Con: 9 → 10
Int: 13
Perception: 9 (8)
Cha: 10 (9)
His stat panel settled. Only then did he look back to the rest of the goblins.
Up above, the Bat Rider—by some means—had recalled its javelin. Red light flickered in its grip; the spear blazed like fire and dropped again.
Boom!
A red bolt split the night—so fast it was almost impossible to react. Almost. In his current state, with bloodline reflexes humming, Gauss could have moved—
—but Shadow was faster. His shadow surged up, yanked him down, and he slipped into the ground—reappearing at Shadow's side an instant later.
KA-THOOM!
The blast hammered the clearing. Twenty-odd goblins nearest the strike were torn apart by the shockwave. The rest scattered in panic, skirting the flaming crater.
"Damn—"
The rider felt no pity for the dead below. Missing Gauss twice running had it seething; it stared down at him like at a mosquito that wouldn't die. And it had learned to track Shadow—twice now the target had blinked to her side.
"It's keyed on you. Be careful on the next volley," Gauss said, glancing up. The attack clearly had a cooldown, but the power was real. Maybe not fully extraordinary, but right at the top edge of elite monsters—touching the floor of the supernal tier in sheer destruction.
"Relax," Shadow said, perfectly calm.
"Gauss, Shadow—I'm putting Bless on you," Serandur called.
Bless didn't last long, but the fight was hitting a boil; it was time. "Mm," Gauss nodded. He was on point, and Shadow's transfer kept everyone safe; they needed the buffs most. Serandur added a Level 2 Spell support prayer as well—one that, for a short time, boosted Gauss's vitality and physical function—plainly put, raised his max HP. It was a spell he'd learned on hitting Level 4.
Power rippled through Gauss, the faint dragon-blood in him surging more actively. Scales along his neck crept up toward his jaw; his presence grew heavier still.
"Haa—" His golden eyes burned in the dark.
He'd never felt sharper. Fresh rewards, fatigue wiped, CON up, Level 4 Serandur's Bless and aid, title bonuses, Ironscale Bloodline—everything stacked to a new peak.
Watching the soft gleam of the blessings over him and the near-tangible waves of energy, Shadow's eyes widened. Maybe it was the darkness, but for a breath she felt the man-shape vanish—and in its place, a towering, ancient horror that made the soul quail. The silhouette swelled and swelled; muscles bunched beneath plate-like scales; vast, black wings unfurled to blot the sky.
It felt so real. So heavy. As if she stood at the feet of a true dragon.
"Shadow—"
Gauss's clear voice shattered the vision and pulled her back. He was still "only" half-dragon, not fully transformed.
"Ready up."
She drew a breath and nodded.
Gauss stopped dividing his attention and looked to the elites stirring in the dark. They'd realized common goblins couldn't touch him; they were about to step in.
He tilted his scaled neck; a soft crackle sounded. Golden pupils slid past the eager elites, fixed on the distant shaman waving its staff.
He would delete the support first.
Some truths are universal: in a raid, kill the healer/buffer first.