He studied Roland's face—bloodstained, yet unable to conceal its handsome, youthful features. He simply couldn't reconcile this sight with the hulking, savage brutes that were supposed to be masters of hand-to-hand combat.
"And your movements… It's like you've practiced them a million times. No, more like… instinct?"
Holland struggled to his feet and patted the dust off his rear, his gaze fixed intensely on Roland.
"Buddy, you really don't remember anything? Including this... uh, extraordinary 'skill' of yours?"
Roland didn't immediately respond to Holland's barrage of astonishment and questions.
While Holland chattered on, catching his breath, Roland had already lowered his head, his sharp gaze sweeping over the goblin corpse at his feet, its chest ripped open.
He then bent down, his fingers probing the mangled flesh and shattered Leather Armor, and quickly pulled something out.
This was a product of his [Plundering] Trait.
