The raucous battlefield went dead quiet in an instant, as if someone had hit mute.
Only the burning turf not far away and the blood-stink hanging in the air proved the fierce fight had really happened.
Gauss walked over to Shadow and the other two.
Aside from Shadow, Alia and Serandur weren't in great shape. Several of Gauss's clay constructs had been shattered too. That's the kind of "loss" you can't really avoid mid-fight—but it's not much of a loss either. As long as he drives Clay Magic, they can be "reborn."
"It's over." Alia put her hands on her hips and sighed at the messy field. She'd already crawled into the tent to sleep. After being tossed around like this, all her drowsiness was gone. But as she felt her class experience surge, she couldn't bring herself to complain against her conscience. Judging from the outcome, the night raid benefited everyone on the team. She felt herself edging close to a level-up again.
Wasn't that a bit fast?
She scratched her head. The process had been risky, sure, but not life-or-death. Was it because Gauss was here—and because the raid was big? Looking around, the number of common goblins left behind was uncountable, and many others had slipped away in the chaos.
The elites had numbered in the teens; aside from the over-spec bat rider, not one survived. If it had been any other Bronze-tier team, they would've died ten times over. In that light, the big chunk of experience made sense. Risk and reward always travel together.
With that thought, she looked at Gauss with a flicker of gratitude and relief.
Thanks, captain.
"Let's police the field first," Gauss said, sweeping his eyes around.
There was still plenty of work after the fighting: clean up the battlefield, collect useful loot; harvest valuable organs and materials, then pile the bodies for a mass burn to prevent disease; put out the fires, pack the gear.
Gauss had extra work: reclaiming goblin spirit. He paced through the field, drawing in the lingering wisps before they faded. The corner of his mouth kept quirking up—he couldn't help the harvest-season grin of a farmer.
Could you imagine how much goblin spirit he could reap from this wave?
Beyond the common goblins, the elites mattered most. Every bundle made the goblin spirit he held swell further.
A pity…
A clay goblin's strength is affected by many factors: the clay's quality and quantity, the mana invested and its quality, the amount and grade of spirit…
Still, more—and stronger—goblin spirit is all upside. In its single form, the clay goblin grows tougher; and he can split spirit to make more clay goblins. Maybe one day he'd field a whole goblin squad—a monster army that wouldn't stay dead so long as his mana held.
Total Monsters Kill: 4253
He'd barely crossed the 4,000 threshold, and now there were another two hundred-plus kills. The field had been too chaotic, and he'd had to focus on the elites—some runners were impossible to catch. Even so, an extra three hundred on the tally was more than enough to satisfy him. Most of those came from his constructs' work.
Slow and steady—no one gets fat on one bite.
He glanced at the next milestone: cumulative 10,000 kills. Between 4,000 and 10,000, the bar showed 6,000 and 8,000 as smaller markers. He guessed those would grant rewards too—just smaller ones.
Besides kill count, he'd raked in a lot of class XP. The cup class manifestation of his mana roiled and gleamed again. He'd pushed more than halfway recently, and tonight's fight had poured in another surge. Level 4 wasn't far. Then 5. Then Master.
Watching himself grow, one steady step at a time, set him at ease. A Level-5 Professional holds serious weight in most towns; once you break into Master, it's a different world. No exaggeration: ordinary folk—especially villagers—might live and die without ever seeing a Master, a figure they speak of as if from another dimension.
More training…
By the time they finished the site, it was already late night. Gauss guessed it was before dawn—the sun would be up before long. The four stank and had no wish to camp there anymore. They found a small lake and split into two groups to wash up.
Gauss splashed the clear, cold water over himself and watched the dried blood melt away. It didn't feel cold—just right, comfortable. He glanced at Serandur a little ways off. Naked, smooth as a seal, with a serpent's tail from the waist down—and nothing else to see. So, like a snake, he kept certain parts internal except in special seasons? From that angle, was the serpentfolk's genetics closer to serpent than human?
Amusing…
Maybe because Gauss didn't look away, Serandur sensed his gaze and tilted his head with a puzzled look. "Captain, something up?"
"No." Gauss smiled and shook his head.
Serandur gave him a strange look, scratched his head, and went back to scrubbing. He was larger than a human, so there was more ground to clean.
By the time Gauss stepped out of the water with a cloth at his waist, the first gold of dawn was creeping over the treetops.
Busy night.
…
That afternoon, Gauss crawled out of his tent. A good nap had restored him. Shadow had been up early; when he emerged, she was already by the fire grilling skewers. Thin smoke curled from the rack.
Gauss blinked and watched her for a bit. She looked up when she noticed him and met his gaze. Under her long straight black hair, her features weren't all that mature—there was even a touch of freshness he couldn't place.
It was the first time he'd really noticed her looks: maybe the faint youthfulness came from a hint of roundness in her cheeks. Her eyes were a bit narrow, rising at the outer corners like a phoenix's, but large. That slight baby-fat softness was neatly balanced by the cool, sharp line of those eyes.
They looked at each other for a while.
Then Shadow, after a brief hesitation, lifted a skewer of finished meat. "Want one?"
"Thanks." Gauss accepted without false modesty and sat across from her. He was hungry, even though he'd eaten plenty before sleeping. He bit and pulled; an entire strip slid into his mouth. Thoroughly chewed, then swallowed.
"How is it?" Shadow didn't look over, but she asked.
Hm?
Gauss arched a brow, a flicker of surprise touching his face—not at the question, but at the fact she'd been the one to ask. "Pretty good. Done this before?" Even surprised, he gave a straight answer.
"No. First time." Even when she started conversations, Shadow used the fewest words needed.
"Then you're talented," Gauss said with a nod.
"Thanks."
Out of the corner of his eye, he studied her. He kept feeling like last night's battle had nudged her somehow—more willing to fit in, to speak first. Still sparse with words, but some talk was necessary. Not everyone had senses as keen as his; too little communication—and a cool face—made it easy to mistake her for haughty.
They ate a few skewers in quiet, the fire between them.
Suddenly Gauss said, "If it's not a bother—can I ask about that shadow-transfer ability from last night?"
He'd wanted to ask right after the fight, but everyone was busy stripping the field. Now, after sleep, his mind and body were calm—and curiosity tugged.
In his eyes, that power was terrifyingly strong. Thanks to her, he could fight with an easy mind. Even with a predator circling above, Shadow could snatch him away before a crisis broke. The transfers were fast enough to dodge almost any strike.
Without her, that first out-of-nowhere javelin would probably have cracked his shield—or left him badly hurt. The bat rider didn't strike often, but the damage it dealt was frightening. Without Shadow, they hadn't a hope of riding it out unharmed.
He had to admit: the thought had crossed his mind to recruit her. Up to now he'd treated her as a temp—don't pry, do the job, part ways. But she was Level 5, and a loner before they met—clearly not someone who liked tagging along with a party. If she'd wanted a team, a Level-5 scout would've found one by now.
In any case… learn a bit more.
Shadow paused at his question, thought a moment, then nodded. At her feet, her shadow twisted in Gauss's sight—shifting shapes on the ground like a living thing—until it gathered into the silhouette of a grown woman, stood up, and waved at him.
"You can control your shadow?" Gauss wasn't surprised. He'd noticed as much even before last night—that she could control shadows.
Shadow shook her head. "Not just that. Strictly speaking, my shadow has her own mind. I call her Shayde."
The words slipped out before she knew it. When she finished, even she blinked at herself. Faced with Gauss's questions, she felt little urge to guard herself—when she'd never wanted to tell others her secrets.
"Shayde?" Gauss nodded thoughtfully. No wonder the shadow had seemed lively—it was a person in its own right.
"Besides last night's transfer, I can enter a shadow state. In that form I can slip between solid bodies at will—and attack."
As if breaking through a mental wall, Shadow added details—and demonstrated. Her shadow crawled up her body and enveloped her. In an instant a wavering black figure stood before him, as if without substance.
"I'm curious," Gauss said. "May I touch you?"
Odd as it sounded, he truly wanted to know what that state felt like. Shadow froze for a beat, then nodded—so slightly you'd miss it if you weren't watching.
With permission, Gauss reached for her waist. As expected, his fingers passed through; the tight black particles parted around his skin. He felt nothing. He drew his hand back; the murk flowed whole again. Shadow dropped the state.
"If you're intangible and can attack, that's near unbeatable," Gauss said, impressed.
"It isn't," Shadow said after a pause. "I return to solid when I attack. And there are attacks that can hurt me."
Gauss nodded. Even so, it was a formidable power.
A moment later, Alia, Serandur, and the four sprites trickled out of their tents.
"Next, we go hunt the commission target for real," Gauss said. He still didn't know if last night's goblins were Blackfang Expedition Troops—but he'd achieved what he'd stayed for. He'd hit his 4,000 kills, and the surrounding goblin tribes were crushed—spines snapped—unlikely to recover soon.
"But the goblin in the sky last night," Alia said, hesitant. "We couldn't touch it."
Gauss nodded. "Which is why we need a large bed crossbow—or a ballista."