PSI screamed as he stepped down on the ground, his leg busted. He was surprised. That was literally not expected. All this time he had been busy running away.
He jumped off a mountain feeling like Tarzan, hoping to land on the ground, still feeling the pain of a busted leg. Yet he… he didn't scream. It was less painful than hell. But it all happens for a reason.
He always thought about what was worse than death. Sometimes, not being able to die is a lifetime pain—a curse that can't fade. Although it's not always true, just think about it: dying again and again.
Maybe it's because he was far more perseverant than he usually was. Holding the pain inside, a tear fell from one of his eyes. Just one tear, only once. Nothing to exaggerate about. He wiped the tear while his Resect ability reset his body into the state it was in one minute ago.
The whole pack of goblins—no, the whole race of goblins—was heavily shocked.
There were over five thousand goblins.
Slowly, the roaring sounds of the goblin pack began decreasing. The goblins near the mountain made a commotion about him surviving. They all jumped and fell on the ground, then stood up and even wiped their faces just like he did with the single droplet of tear he had.
The others immediately understood it.
As soon as they did, some of them ran around spreading the hilarious moment and the weird resurrection. So in a matter of a minute, almost half the population had already heard it and were rushing to the exact place.
The ground was a beautiful beach. The mountain covered them from the other side of the island, and in order to go to the other side they had to take the curved path or the leftover edge of the island that was almost swallowed by the mountain.
But why should they do it?
I mean, come on. We are talking about low-intelligence beings here.
As for how the dark goblin did it—even though it was just darker than the other goblins—it stayed a mystery in the Pathless mind.
For their level of intelligence, making a perfect rope and even using it to climb a 50-meter-tall mountain was like humans creating a stair that begins on Earth and ends on the Moon.
PSI looked like he didn't even need to fight them. He could actually trap them.
The fastest way was to burn them all, and whoever ran back he would have to kill. His life now was like being recapped into a movie. Making it a fascinating one was up to him.
And for one movie to be cinematic, there must be an insane amount of blood.
Otherwise, the myth gods won't like it.
He might as well grab their attention at the beginning with a massive genocidal scene.
But things didn't go his way, because he had to throw his eyes everywhere searching for that one little tragic view.
Humans burning alive. Limbs of males and females hanging on trees. Goblins wearing human heads as hats. Some were even using them as chairs.
This scene screamed one fact.
He could never even hope to live for a second.
Right after the commotion. Right after the laugh.
He's dead.
With a cold look, he grabbed the throat of the goblin near him and pulled it out.
That was when the second commotion erupted.
He looked at his hand, holding the stretched throat of a goblin.
"So you goblins are way too unintelligent and weak physically, and even naturally weaker than the dark goblin. No kidding. Well, every character begins with a goblin… so why not me? Looks cool when I play Tarzan."
PSI grabbed another one with his other hand and raised his tilted head while looking at them.
The goblin's mouth stretched wide open, resembling a bear cave.
With that shocked look on their faces, they all clenched their fists.
But no one moved.
Until a throne rose high in the air.
On the throne sat a monster.
A monster recognized even from the edges of the mountain.
THE GOBLIN KING.
His size was that of hundreds of goblins. His eyes glowed bright red. A green aura surrounded his body and formed the shape of a goblin in the sky—laughing.
The giant goblin head formed from the aura laughed.
It laughed.
Unlike the other goblins, this one knew how to talk.
It was the Goblin King himself, using the giant goblin head to speak.
The goblins weren't exactly shocked or scared—they were confused.
As low-intelligence monsters, all they knew was running around doing things without thinking. But as long as the presence of the Goblin King remained, they couldn't do anything without his command.
Nothing at all.
PSI had to laugh.
What else could he do in this seriously annoying situation?
He sighed.
"Again… what a bunch of weirdos. Then again, that guy ain't a joke. He ain't someone I can mess with. Even barely looking at him, he appears like a dot. I mean, the only thing scaring me is the head since I can clearly see it. So these are pawns… and that one is the king."
"The best way to kill a pack of monsters like goblins… is to kill the king and confuse the pawns."
He got ready to run.
Taking the iconic running stance he had seen in the recent Flash movie, he dashed forward at full speed.
Still, he ain't no Flash. Not even Usain Bolt.
I mean come on.
He ain't even running like IShowSpeed waking up from sleep.
He just jogged.
He wasn't physically fit.
And they didn't even take a second before cutting off his legs.
He fell on the ground like a helpless child.
All he could see were goblins jumping on one another trying to get their hands on him. Pleasing the king with whatever desire he had was almost their main priority.
He had to resurrect back and survive one minute with minimal damage.
If he turned one minute back before waiting a full minute in his resurrected body, he would ultimately return to the previous state.
In short—
He would return to being without legs.
So he ran back, dodging all the attacks.
Right after a minute, he returned with even more speed and more intent to kill.
The more focused he was on his goal, the better the results.
All these goblins were like shouting passengers beside a train slowing down with a choo-choo whistle.
He had to pass the passengers and enter the train.
He had to fight the king.
For what it was worth, he might actually make his new plan work.
But he paused with a blank expression.
He needed to be smart. To do things perfectly without losing the touch of the broadcast and his goals.
In the end, he fell into deep thought.
'Why am I trying to fight the king first? My plan is to kill the king and confuse the pawns, hoping the goblins will fight each other. But that chance is nothing but a shackle.'
'I lived my life hoping one day it would change for the better. In the end, I didn't do it right.'
'This isn't being smart.'
'I'm just using shortcuts and hoping luck fills the rest.'
'In this situation, it has nothing to do with being smart.'
'I would be smart if I had a way to retreat from this fight. But there ain't no way I can retreat at this point.'
'So fighting until the end… experiencing every moment… as long as I won't die.'
'That's right. No need to rush.'
'I will kill every last one of them—even if I have to die ten thousand times.'
And so he kept killing them.
Again and again.
Going insane.
Blood poured from their bodies as he learned to fight… as he adapted to counterattack… as he learned to move with the flow.
Around two thousand were dead.
On such a small island, he kept killing them for an entire month.
But now the Goblin King had seen enough.
What he saw was pure perseverance.
The Goblin King stood from his throne.
And the moment he did—
Twelve guardian goblins with twelve elemental magics ascended from the sky.
Behind them stood ten thousand warriors each.
120,000 divine magician-blessed goblins descended.