[You have slain 1 Hobgoblin!]
[Stage reward available: Monster Organ, Hobgoblin War Cry Organ!]
[Next stage reward: Slay 10 Hobgoblins to receive an advanced reward!]
The panel notification flashed across Orum's vision. He didn't stop to check the reward details right away, instead sweeping his gaze quickly over the Hobgoblin army around him.
The headless corpse of the Hobgoblin commander knelt on the ground, crimson blood pouring like a waterfall from the severed stump of its neck.
The head that had been skewered by the flame-steel glaive was nowhere to be seen, leaving only a gaping, blood-spurting hole where the neck had been.
This sudden, fatal blow shattered the morale of the entire Hobgoblin legion in an instant.
"The commander's head is gone!"
"The commander is dead!"
The once-orderly ranks fell into instant chaos. Some Hobgoblin soldiers let out terrified howls and stumbled backward several steps, throwing the formation into disarray.
Panicked shouts rose one after another, echoing through the side gate area.
The entire legion had fallen into unprecedented chaos.
But Orum gave them no chance to catch their breath.
His figure surged forward like a tiger descending from the mountain, plunging straight into the mass of Hobgoblins.
Each step he took against the ground let out a dull, thunderous boom.
The terrifying power of the Monster Organ [Bugbear Tendon +2] unleashed itself fully in this moment. Orum moved so fast he seemed to leave afterimages in his wake.
The nearest Hobgoblin soldier hadn't even had time to react before Orum's hands, like iron pincers, clamped down on its torso.
His five fingers sank deep into its flesh, and its bones let out a sharp crackling sound as they shattered.
"Aaah!" The Hobgoblin let out an agonized scream.
It struggled desperately, trying to break free of Orum's grip, but it was utterly futile.
This Hobgoblin stood over two meters tall and weighed at least a hundred and fifty kilograms, its muscles knotted and hard as stone.
Yet in Orum's hands it was as helpless as a small child, unable to struggle at all.
Orum paid no attention to its wailing. Gripping the Hobgoblin's body, he charged straight toward the center of the crowd.
His charge was blindingly fast, like a human-shaped cannonball.
Wherever he passed, a fierce wind kicked up, sweeping gravel and dust into the air and leaving a gray trail behind him.
The Hobgoblin soldiers around him panicked, raising their sharp iron swords and slashing at Orum.
"Kill him!"
More than a dozen iron swords swung at once, carving dense arcs of cold light through the air.
The blades had all been carefully honed and were extremely sharp.
"Splurch! Splurch! Splurch!"
The sound of blades piercing flesh came in a dense burst, like rain pounding on banana leaves.
To the Hobgoblins' horror, every one of those swords was blocked by the body of the Hobgoblin in Orum's grip.
Not a single blade so much as touched Orum himself.
The Hobgoblin used as a "meat shield" let out a shrill scream as its own companions' blades tore countless bloody holes into its body. "No! What are you doing!"
"Stop! Stop it!"
It cried out in desperation, but its voice was soon choked off by blood filling its throat.
Blood gushed out madly like water bursting from an opened dam, staining Orum's arms and chest red.
The red monster blood mixed with red viscera, giving off a sickening, fetid stench.
The Hobgoblin soldiers, eyes bloodshot with rage, kept attacking regardless.
But nothing could stop the momentum of Orum's charge.
The screams of the Hobgoblin used as a meat shield grew weaker and weaker, its body going slack like a deflating leather sack.
Yet Orum kept hold of the corpse, using it like a battering ram as he plowed forward into the crowd.
Every Hobgoblin in his path was sent flying by the mangled, blood-soaked corpse.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
Dull, heavy impacts sounded one after another, the crack of shattering bones clearly audible.
Several Hobgoblins were sent flying backward, coughing up blood as they hit the ground, their breastplates caved in, clearly mortally wounded.
At last, one of the Hobgoblins realized Orum's true intention.
"He's going for his weapon!" a Hobgoblin soldier shrieked in warning.
Its voice was full of despair and terror, for it understood exactly what would happen if Orum reclaimed the flame-steel glaive.
"Quick! Stop him!"
"Don't let him touch that glaive!"
But Orum didn't so much as glance over. His right fist shot out like a siege ram.
The hardness of [Minotaur Troll Bone] and the brutal force of [Bugbear Tendon +2] erupted together in that instant.
His fist collided head-on with the skull of the warning Hobgoblin.
"Splurch!"
The Hobgoblin's head burst open entirely, like a watermelon struck by a heavy hammer.
Red and white brain matter mixed with green blood sprayed in every direction, splattering the faces of the Hobgoblins nearby. The headless body, carried by momentum, staggered forward two more steps before collapsing with a heavy thud.
"Block him!"
More than a dozen Hobgoblins threw caution to the wind and rushed forward, trying to block Orum's path with their own bodies.
But it was already too late.
Orum was now less than five meters from the flame-steel glaive.
He didn't slow his charge, closing the last stretch until only five meters remained.
His footsteps were heavy and powerful as war drums, each strike against the ground kicking up scattered stone.
The Hobgoblin soldiers trying to stop him were like mantises trying to block a chariot before this terrifying force, and were sent flying one after another.
The Hobgoblin "meat shield" in his grip, already riddled with wounds and dripping blood, finally came apart entirely, turning into a scattered mess of dripping flesh on the ground.
In that same instant, Orum reached the spot where the flame-steel glaive was still lodged in the wall.
The Hobgoblin commander's head still remained on the stone wall, crimson blood trickling slowly down the surface like some horrifying mural.
The flame-steel glaive, weighing three hundred and ninety kilograms, was buried deep in the stone wall, its blade still trembling faintly, radiating a cold gleam of death.
Orum reached out his right hand, fingers spread, and gripped the heavy, ice-cold haft of the glaive.
The familiar sensation returned to him: cold, hard, heavy, lethal.
Orum tensed his arm, and the terrifying power of [Bugbear Tendon +2] surged as he wrenched the glaive free from the stone wall.
"Crack!"
The stone wall groaned under the strain and cracked, countless fissures spreading out like a spider's web.
In the next instant, Orum tightened his grip on the haft and twisted sharply at the waist, unleashing the full force of his body like a coiled spring suddenly released.
This was one of the core technique principles of [Iron Heart Force]: using the waist as the pivot to drive an explosive release of power from the entire body.
The muscles of Orum's waist tensed instantly, as tough and powerful as a massive alloy axle.
His two hearts pounded like war drums, pumping abundant blood to his muscles. His four lung lobes expanded to their fullest, and oxygen surged into his bloodstream like highly concentrated fuel, igniting every cell in his body.
His enhanced monster tendons drew taut like steel cables, storing up devastating power, while his hard Minotaur Troll bones provided the perfect supporting framework for it all.
In Orum's hands, the flame-steel glaive became a bolt of pitch-black thunder, sweeping violently across the space before him.
"Whoosh!!!"
A terrifying whistling sound tore through the air like a tiger's roar, echoing through the entire side gate passage.
Along the glaive's path, the air compressed violently, forming visible ripples of distortion.
Four Hobgoblin soldiers who had circled behind Orum to attempt a sneak attack had no time to react, not even time to feel fear.
They had assumed that with Orum focused on freeing his weapon, this was the perfect moment to strike.
But Orum's reaction speed far exceeded anything they imagined. His spinning sweep was as swift as lightning, yet carried the terrifying force of a mountain collapsing.
"Splat! Splat! Splat! Splat!"
A series of snapping sounds followed, like a sharp blade slicing through tofu.
All four Hobgoblins were cut clean through at the waist by the sweep of the flame-steel glaive, sliced into several pieces by its keen edge.
The sharp blade passed through their waists like a giant cutting machine, without the slightest resistance.
Hard bones, tough muscle, coarse skin, all of it was as fragile as paper before this terrifying force. The cuts were smooth and clean, without the slightest drag.
The Hobgoblins' upper and lower halves separated, tumbling through the air as blood sprayed from the severed stumps like fountains.
Under the horrified gazes of the surviving Hobgoblins, entrails rained down from the wounds like a storm, filling the air with a thick stench of blood and rot.
Livers, intestines, stomachs, fragments of every organ mixed together, carpeting the entire ground.
[Hobgoblin Kill Count +1]!
[Hobgoblin Kill Count +1]!
[Hobgoblin Kill Count +1]!
[Hobgoblin Kill Count +1]!
The panel notifications flashed across Orum's vision one after another like a scrolling feed, but he showed no sign of stopping at all.
After that single sweeping blow, Orum didn't pause for even a moment. He stamped down hard and shot forward again like an arrow loosed from a bow.
"Boom!"
The flame-steel glaive whirled in his hands, becoming arc after arc of pitch-black death.
Every swing carried devastating force enough to split mountains and shatter stone. The glaive left afterimages hanging in the air, so vivid they seemed almost solid, weaving together into a web of death.
No Hobgoblin that stood in Orum's way could survive even a single exchange.
One Hobgoblin raised its shield to block, but the shield shattered instantly under the glaive's blow, as if it were made of paper.
"Crack!"
The iron shield split into pieces in an instant, fragments scattering like a sudden downpour. A flash of despair crossed the Hobgoblin's eyes; it knew it was finished.
The glaive's momentum carried on unabated, splitting straight through the Hobgoblin's helmet and skull, from between its brows all the way down to its chin.
"Splurch!"
Its head split cleanly in two, like a log cleaved by a sharp axe.
Red and white brain matter mixed with green blood sprayed everywhere, the bloody scene utterly visceral. The Hobgoblin didn't even have time to scream before its life was completely extinguished.
Another Hobgoblin tried to twist aside and dodge, but Orum's attack was too fast. The glaive's tip pierced precisely through its chest.
"Splurch!"
The sharp point slid in as easily as a hot knife through butter, meeting no resistance at all.
The Hobgoblin looked down at the bloody hole in its chest, its eyes filled with disbelieving horror.
The glaive's tip burst out through its back, dragging with it a spray of blood and shattered bone fragments.
Blood mixed with bone fragments gushed from the wound like a fountain, staining the ground red, splattering down with a sickening sound.
The Hobgoblin's body began to tremble, its limbs going limp as its life drained away rapidly.
With a flick of his wrist, Orum sent the corpse flying off the glaive's tip, hurling it into the group of Hobgoblins behind.
"Whoosh!"
The corpse tumbled through the air and slammed hard into three other Hobgoblins.
The tremendous impact knocked all three of them down, the crack of breaking bones clearly audible.
Blood rained down like droplets, staining the ground, staining the walls, staining the vision of every Hobgoblin present.
The entire side gate passage had become a sea of blood.
Orum rampaged through the Hobgoblin legion, the glaive in his hands becoming a storm of black death. He killed until blood ran in rivers and corpses littered the ground, turning the entire side gate passage into a hellish purgatory.
Mutilated corpses lay everywhere, alongside broken weapons and shattered armor.
The air was thick with the reek of blood, a stench that made one want to retch.
This place was no longer a battlefield. It had become Orum's private slaughterhouse.
The once-fanatical Hobgoblin soldiers finally felt a chill rising from the depths of their souls.
The crimson demonic light in their eyes began to dim, replaced by something far more primal: fear.
It was the instinctive response of any living creature facing the threat of death, a will to survive carved deep into their genes.
No matter how fervent the faith or how fierce the will to fight, it all crumbled before an absolute gap in power.
The Hobgoblins finally understood: this human before them was simply not something they could deal with.
"Run! Run now!"
"Run, gwaah!"
Panicked howls rose one after another.
The Hobgoblin legion's discipline collapsed entirely. The soldiers threw down their weapons and turned to flee.
But just then, another panel notification popped up in Orum's vision.
[You have slain 10 Hobgoblins]
[Hobgoblin Monster Organ Advancement Obtained:]
[Hobgoblin Tendon!]
Orum's gaze locked onto the fleeing Hobgoblins without wavering.
His pupils contracted slightly, focused like a hawk fixing on its prey.
Every one of the Hobgoblins' movements appeared perfectly clear to him; not the slightest motion escaped his notice.
The last few Hobgoblins fled desperately toward the rear, all but throwing off their armor as they retreated at full speed.
Their steps had lost all military discipline, driven now only by the most primal instinct to survive.
Their thick leg muscles contracted wildly, each stride poured out with everything they had.
In that moment, their once-savage eyes were filled with despair and terror, their mouths letting out panicked howls.
"Aoooo!"
"Guh-gaaah!"
But in the blink of an eye, Orum had already caught up to them.
His speed was so tremendous that he seemed to teleport, appearing right behind the fleeing Hobgoblins.
The terrifying explosive power of [Bugbear Tendon +2] unleashed itself completely in that instant.
The flame-steel glaive rose high, like the scythe of death itself, carrying with it an aura of total annihilation.
The muscles of Orum's arms tensed, veins bulging, as terrifying force poured into the flame-steel glaive.
"Boom!"
Under the Hobgoblins' horror-stricken gazes,
the glaive came crashing down, and the first Hobgoblin's skull was violently driven straight down into its neck cavity.
The skull sank entirely into its chest as if crushed by a hydraulic press, the cervical spine shattered completely.
"Crack, crack!"
The Hobgoblin didn't even have time to scream before its body lost all support and collapsed.
Crimson blood gushed from the gaps between the neck cavity and the crushed skull, like water from a burst pipe.
[Hobgoblin Kill Count +1]!
The panel notification flashed briefly across Orum's vision.
But he had no intention of pausing at all. His figure flickered forward, closing in on the second Hobgoblin.
Hearing the commotion behind it, the Hobgoblin turned back in terror.
What it saw was Orum's ice-cold face, and the flame-steel glaive raised high above.
"No..."
Its desperate cry was cut off abruptly.
"Boom!"
Another dull, heavy impact, and the second skull was driven into its neck cavity.
The tremendous force crushed the Hobgoblin's cervical spine into powder.
The skull sank deep into the chest cavity, leaving only a few strands of hair visible.
[Hobgoblin Kill Count +1]!
The third. The fourth. The fifth.
Orum executed the fleeing soldiers one after another, like a farmer harvesting wheat.
His movements were mechanical and efficient, without a trace of unnecessary flourish.
Every fall of the glaive was the most direct, most lethal strike.
There was no hesitation, no mercy.
Every swing of the glaive ended a life, birthing another corpse with its skull driven into its chest.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
The heavy, dull impacts echoed through the passage like the rhythm of death.
Each sound marked the death of another Hobgoblin.
[Hobgoblin Kill Count +1]!
[Hobgoblin Kill Count +1]!
[Hobgoblin Kill Count +1]!
[Hobgoblin Kill Count +1]!
The panel notifications kept flashing across his vision like a scrolling feed.
In under ten seconds, every last one of the fleeing Hobgoblins had been slain. Not a single one remained.
Orum stopped, standing in a pool of blood.
The flame-steel glaive hung slanted toward the ground, thick crimson blood dripping from its blade.
"Drip... Drip..."
The blood pattered softly against the ground.
At the end of this bloody path, Orum finally saw the exit of the side gate passage.
Light spilled in suddenly from the street outside, like a beam of hope, illuminating the passage paved with corpses.
The light was warm and bright, forming a stark contrast with the bloodshed inside the passage.
Just then, a series of urgent footsteps sounded from deeper within the arena, drawing closer.
"Thud, thud, thud!"
Heavy footfalls echoed across the stone floor.
The sound carried an unmistakable urgency; someone was clearly running at full speed.
Orum tightened his grip on the flame-steel glaive and turned warily.
His body instantly shifted into combat readiness, muscles taut as steel wire.
His two hearts and four lungs began working faster, preparing for whatever battle might come.
Ready to strike at any moment.
"Orum! Lord Orum!"
A familiar, gruff voice rang out, thick with a Sawtooth accent.
The voice carried clear excitement and urgency.
It was Saul!
Orum relaxed his guard slightly, but he still didn't lower the glaive in his hand.
In chaos like this, even a moment's carelessness could be fatal.
The Sawtooth warrior Saul came running from deeper within the arena.
His body was covered in red bloodstains; he had clearly been through fierce fighting of his own.
Saul's heavy armor bore numerous dents and scratches, and his beard was smeared with blood. He looked utterly disheveled.
Even the war hammer in his hand had been bent out of shape, its head covered in dents and cracks.
Saul, panting heavily, ran up to stand before Orum.
His broad chest heaved violently, sweat mixing with blood as it ran down.
His breathing was as heavy and ragged as a blacksmith's bellows.
"Lord Orum..."
Saul, gasping for breath, tried to gather his words.
His voice came out broken and halting from the exertion.
"Alexander's team... they've wiped out the monsters at the main gate!"
Saul said excitedly, his eyes shining with excitement.
"The passage at the main gate is open! Captain Felix sent me to let you know, he wants you to hurry over there!"
Having finished speaking, Saul looked at Orum expectantly, waiting for his reaction.
His eyes were full of admiration for Orum's strength.
Orum listened, his expression not shifting in the slightest.
He simply replied coolly, "No need."
"This side's already cleared too."
Orum added briefly, his tone carrying a note of matter-of-factness, as if single-handedly slaughtering an entire Hobgoblin legion were the most ordinary thing in the world.
Saul froze.
Unconsciously, he followed Orum's gaze toward the exit of the side gate passage.
There, unmistakably, was a passage leading to the outside world.
Light streamed in from outside, clearly visible.
Warm sunlight poured through the exit into the passage, forming a golden column of light.
Saul's gaze slowly drifted back from the exit, sweeping over the Hobgoblin corpses strewn haphazardly across the ground.
The scene told an astonishing truth.
The side gate had been completely cleared, by Orum's strength alone.
Saul's mouth slowly fell open, his eyes filled with disbelieving shock.
His jaw nearly hit the ground.
Those eyes, which had witnessed countless battlefields, now looked as innocent as a child seeing war for the very first time.
He knew Orum was strong, but he had never imagined he could be this strong.
On Alexander's side, at least twenty gladiators had been gathered.
Among them were seven professional adventurers, and it had taken a bloody fight of over twenty minutes to clear the main gate.
Yet Orum, by himself alone, had taken less than ten minutes to wipe out the entire Hobgoblin legion at the side gate.
Although the monsters at the main gate were indeed more numerous and fiercer in strength,
Orum had been alone.
Such a gap in strength could no longer be explained away by mere talent.
This was simply a different species altogether.
Saul stared at the scene before him, unable to pull himself from his overwhelming shock.
Today, his worldview had cracked, just a little.
Under the command of the two adventuring guild leaders, Felix and Alexander, the gladiators each carried out their assigned roles, successfully guiding several thousand civilians out of the arena and evacuating them into the more open areas of Roen City where monster density was lower.
The side gate that Orum had broken through also played its part, cutting the evacuation time in half.
After the gladiators had successfully evacuated the crowd, allowing every living soul to escape this region of the Blazing Sun Arena that could only be called a living hell, the elite army dispatched by City Lord Morgan of Roen City finally arrived.
Dozens of knights clad in heavy, gleaming silver armor came into view.
They advanced toward the arena in tight, disciplined formation.
Their armor reflected a blinding glare under the firelight,
like a moving wall of silver.
Orum noticed that each knight carried a massive oil tank on their back.
The tanks were forged of bronze, their surfaces engraved with fire-resistant runes.
Thick leather tubing connected the tanks to the large spray-guns each knight carried.
The muzzles of the spray-guns were forged from fine steel, fitted inside with flame gems.
They gave off a scorching heat.
"The Flame Lance Knights!"
Saul's pupils contracted as he recognized the force.
"These are Roen City's most elite special unit!"
"Trained specifically to deal with large-scale monster incursions!"
Orum watched the tardy knights with a cold gaze.
If not for the gladiators fighting to the death and carving out two paths of escape,
by the time these knights arrived, the civilians in the arena might already have all been slaughtered, wiped out entirely by the monsters.
The knights in their gleaming silver armor arrived at the arena and swiftly took up advantageous positions at each of its exits, forming an airtight cordon.
The knight at the head of the group removed his helmet, revealing a stern face.
He looked to be around forty years old, a jagged scar running across his face.
"I am Bruce, Captain of the Flame Lance Knights!"
he announced loudly.
"By order of City Lord Morgan, I have come to exterminate the monsters!"
None of the gladiators present paid him any mind. This utter lack of respect made Bruce's gaze turn even colder.
"Do these wild professionals not even realize I am the Knight Captain of the Silverhand family?"
"This is a height they could never reach in their entire lives!"
"Yet they show me not the slightest respect! With character like that, no wonder they're the sort of fools who struggle for over a decade and never manage to advance."
Just then, roars sounded from deep within the arena.
"Gaaah!"
"Guh-gaaah!"
Dozens of Goblins, mixed in with Bugbears, came charging out from the depths of the arena.
These were a fresh batch, survivors who had fallen from the sky but hadn't died from the impact.
They brandished scavenged weapons as they charged toward the side gate.
Bruce immediately raised his right hand, signaling the attack.
"Fire!"
The cold command rang out across the battlefield.
In the next instant, more than a dozen massive pillars of fire shot out from the spray-guns all at once.
The orange-red flames roared like enraged fire dragons,
carrying an aura of total annihilation as they surged toward the mass of monsters.
The flames burned so hot that the very air seemed to warp and twist,
letting out a sizzling hiss.
The Goblins at the very front didn't even have time to scream
before the flames swallowed them whole.
Their bodies caught fire in an instant.
Skin charred black, flesh melting, bones turning to char.
The terrible heat burned the Goblins alive into charcoal,
giving off a sickening, burnt stench.
The Goblins behind them, seeing this, tried to retreat in terror.
But it was already too late.
The flames spread through the Goblin horde as if alive,
turning it into a sea of fire.
"Gaaah!"
"Help me!"
"It burns!"
Shrill screams rose one after another.
The Goblins thrashed wildly in the sea of flame.
The fur on their bodies caught fire, turning them into so many walking torches.
Some of the thick-hided Bugbears rolled desperately on the ground, trying to smother the flames.
But the specially formulated alchemical fire oil couldn't be extinguished by rolling around at all.
The burning alchemical oil clung like tar; once it touched skin, it would keep burning until the creature's body was reduced to charcoal.
Within just a few minutes, dozens of monsters that had tried to charge out of the arena were all burned to charred corpses.
The Flame Lance Knights watched the scene coldly.
Their spray-guns remained trained ahead.
Any monster that dared charge out of the arena would be met with the judgment of fire.
Just as the Flame Lance Knights were mopping up the remaining monsters, everyone noticed a strange change in the sky.
The dark green cloud that had hung over Roen City all this while was slowly beginning to move.
Orum looked up, his pupils contracting slightly.
The green cloud seemed to have a life of its own, its edges beginning to writhe.
Within the thick cloud, an eerie green light flickered, as though countless eyes were peering out from within.
The cloud's shape was changing too.
Its once-round outline began to stretch, like a giant hand slowly extending across the sky.
"Look! That cloud is moving!"
someone shouted, pointing at the sky.
"It's really moving!"
More people looked up, their eyes fixed on the strange green cloud.
Captain Bruce, too, stopped issuing commands and looked up at the sky.
His expression turned deadly serious.
"What in the world is that thing?"
Bruce muttered to himself.
Orum stared fixedly at the path the green cloud was tracing.
He could sense clearly that some powerful and malevolent force was contained within that cloud, one that even gave him the impression of possessing a unique life force of its own.
The overwhelming sense of threat made even his skin prickle,
as though countless needles were pricking at it.
The cloud's movement wasn't fast, but it was strangely steady,
like some great ship sailing across the sky.
No more Goblins fell from beneath the cloud.
The dense swarm of green silhouettes had vanished entirely.
In their place came an eerie silence.
To everyone's relief, after having released tens of thousands of Goblins upon the city in that brief spell, the green cloud was, unexpectedly, beginning to leave.
"By the Saints above!"
a city guard shouted excitedly.
"It's finally leaving!"
But Orum's expression only grew more grave.
He had a nagging feeling that things weren't so simple.
As if guided by its own will, the green cloud drifted slowly eastward, no longer hanging over Roen City.
Orum's gaze followed the cloud's path.
East.
What lay in that direction?
Orum searched his memory of the map.
To the east lay the Misty Forest, and further east still, the underground city of Gulange, the Rift of Shadows, and beyond the Golden Mountain Range, the Dragon-Bound Empire.
Would the green cloud head east, or would it continue its rampage through the kingdom's southern territories?
A pensive look showed in Orum's eyes.
As the green cloud drifted farther away, the number of Goblins falling from the sky rapidly dwindled, until it stopped altogether.
The sky turned clear once more.
The light of the setting sun spilled through the clouds, gilding the earth in a layer of gold.
But this beautiful sight couldn't dispel the shadow hanging over people's hearts.
"Thank the gods..."
someone prayed fervently, forehead pressed to the ground.
His voice trembled, filled with the relief of a survivor.
"This nightmare is finally coming to an end..."
About half a day passed, and the situation within Roen City gradually stabilized.
Professional adventurers across every district, under the unified command of the City Lord's office, launched a systematic sweep against the Goblins within the city.
Swordsmen formed into squads, patrolling the streets and searching them, striking down any Goblin they found on sight.
Their movements were practiced and efficient.
Their longswords glinted with cold light beneath the sun.
Every swing claimed another life.
Spellcasters cast detection spells to root out monsters hiding within buildings.
No Goblin attempting to hide could escape notice.
And the rangers, with tracking skills as sharp as hunting hounds, flushed out one Goblin after another that had fled into the alleys.
After half a day of effort, the adventurers had finally succeeded in clearing out the vast majority of Goblins within the city.
Goblin corpses lay scattered haphazardly across the streets, and city guards were gathering them up to be piled and burned.
Crimson blood pooled into little streams along the cobblestone roads.
The air was thick with the reek of blood, as if one had descended into the ninth layer of hell.
Even so, a small number of cunning Goblins managed to flee into Roen City's labyrinthine sewer system.
Roen City's sewers had been built centuries ago, as complex as an underground maze, with countless passages crisscrossing one another.
Dark, damp, and reeking with filth, the sewers were the perfect place for Goblins to hide.
Rooting out and exterminating the Goblins that had gone to ground there would likely take some time yet.
In this operation to hunt down the green-skinned Goblins, Orum naturally took an active part as well.
Carrying the flame-steel glaive, he patrolled through every district of the city, searching for remaining monsters.
Whenever he found trace of a Goblin, Orum charged in without a moment's hesitation, one strike of the glaive per kill, clean and swift.
His killing efficiency was extraordinary; within half a day, the number of Goblins he had slain had already surpassed a hundred.
[Goblin Kill Count +1]!
[Goblin Kill Count +1]!
[Goblin Kill Count +1]!
The panel notifications kept flashing across his screen without pause.
At the edge of Orum's vision, the kill counter kept climbing, until at last it broke through an important threshold.
Just as Orum had expected, a line of golden text popped up once more at the center of his vision.
[You have slain 100 Goblins!]
[Goblin Monster Organ Advancement Obtained:]
[Aura of Faint Presence!]
[Claim it?]
[Congratulations, you have obtained the title:]
["Goblin Slayer" (replacing "Goblin Butcher")]
[Effect 1: All your slashing damage gains a 20% damage bonus!]
[Effect 2: Damage you deal to the "Goblin race" gains a 50% damage bonus!]
[Effect 3: Every time you slay a monster of the "Goblin race," you will gain a 1-minute "Blood Rage" status, increasing melee damage, attack speed, and skill cast speed by 30%!]