Chapter 17: The Tactical Dismantling
The western corridor leading to the infirmary wing was a notorious blind spot. The mana-torches here burned low and sputtered, casting long, twitchy shadows against the damp, uneven stonework.
I was walking back from the alchemy labs, my boots echoing hollowly in the silence. Too hollowly.
I stopped. The faint echo of my own footsteps faded, replaced by the heavy, wet sound of localized breathing and the unmistakable scrape of iron against stone.
"Well, look who's walking without his guard dogs."
Gorgug stepped out from behind a massive, shadowed marble pillar, completely choking the narrow hallway. Up close, the Rank 15 Orc was a walking mountain of dark green muscle and bad intentions. Two of his lackeys stepped out of the gloom right behind him, lazily slapping crude, iron-studded maces against their open palms.
"You're standing in my hallway, Gorgug," I said, my voice dead flat. I kept my hands loosely in my pockets.
Gorgug spat a wad of phlegm onto the flagstones. "I'm sick of looking at that gold Rank 10 badge on a scrawny, defective green runt. It's a joke. You're a joke." He cracked his neck, a sound like thick branches snapping. "Break his knees. Let's see if the tactician can crawl to class."
"Got it, boss," the larger lackey grunted.
He didn't even bother with a proper stance. He just stepped forward, raised the heavy iron mace, and brought it down in a sloppy, arrogant arc aimed right at my collarbone.
I didn't flinch. The Sovereign's Conduit roared to life inside my chest.
I inhaled sharply, dragging the stale air and ambient mana into my lungs. My F-Grade core spun furiously, catching the chaotic energy, compressing it, and shifting its frequency in a fraction of a second.
Aura.
The change was violent. The agonizing, natural frailty of my base goblin biology was instantly overwritten. Dense, silver light pulsed through the veins in my forearms, making my skin feel like forged steel.
I didn't step back. I stepped directly inside his swing.
The heavy iron mace slammed into my raised forearm. The canvas sleeve of my coat tore instantly, but beneath it, my magically hardened skin barely even bruised.
The lackey's eyes bulged, his jaw dropping in stupid shock. Before he could even formulate a thought, I drove my fist forward with the explosive, terrible force of a coiled spring.
My knuckles connected directly with the side of his kneecap.
CRACK.
The bone shattered with a sickening, wet crunch that echoed down the hall.
The lackey shrieked—a high, piercing, entirely un-orc-like wail—and crumpled to the floor, dropping his mace to claw frantically at his ruined leg. "My leg! Ah, my fucking leg!"
Gorgug stared at his screaming subordinate, his brain totally short-circuiting. "What the—you little freak! I'll tear your head off!"
The towering Orc roared, his own brutish, blood-red Aura flaring to life around his massive frame as he charged me like a runaway siege engine.
I didn't try to match his strength. I shifted.
Exhale. Magic.
The dense, physical power vanished from my limbs, leaving me feeling instantly hollow and incredibly fragile, but the energy surged upward, converting into volatile, searing Arcane heat.
I raised my palm directly into Gorgug's path. I didn't cast a fireball; that took too long to weave. I just gathered raw, unrefined mana into a microscopic, highly pressurized point in the center of my palm and released the mental lock.
The resulting flash-bang was catastrophic.
A concussive wave of blinding purple light and searing heat detonated inches from Gorgug's face. The boom rattled the dust from the ceiling. The Orc screamed, his momentum carrying him blindly forward as he crashed hard into the stone wall. He slid to the floor, desperately clutching his burned, unseeing eyes, his red Aura sputtering out completely in his panic.
It was over in four seconds. Surgical. Brutal. Flawless.
"Grik!"
Rapid, frantic footsteps echoed down the corridor.
I instantly cut the conduit, dumping the remaining mana out of my system.
The backlash of shutting off the technique so quickly hit my scrawny body like a physical blow. I wasn't entirely faking it this time—my knees genuinely buckled, and I hit the cold stone floor hard, coughing violently as the silver veins receded under my skin. Shifting frequencies took a massive, agonizing toll on a body that hadn't evolved yet.
Kaelith and Nyssa skidded around the corner, weapons drawn and spells flaring, expecting to walk into a bloodbath.
Instead, they found two massive Orcs screaming on the floor, and me huddled against the wall, wheezing and clutching my ribs.
"Grik! Oh my god, what happened?!" Nyssa cried out. She dropped to her knees beside me, her hands hovering nervously over my chest, terrified to touch me in case I shattered.
"They... they jumped me," I rasped out, forcing a convincing wince as I looked up at her. "Hallway was dark... didn't see 'em coming."
Kaelith didn't say a word. Her silver eyes darted from the Orc with the shattered knee to Gorgug, who was still blindly clawing at his face. She processed the scene in a fraction of a second. She didn't ask questions.
Without hesitating, Kaelith stepped past Nyssa, hooked her left arm under my knees, and slid her right arm firmly around my back.
She lifted my dead weight off the ground in a rigid, effortless princess carry.
"I've got him," Kaelith snapped, her voice tight with leftover combat adrenaline as she glared down at the groaning Orcs.
"Wait! Watch his neck!" Nyssa yelled, scrambling to her feet, her emerald eyes zeroing in on my position in Kaelith's arms. Her jaw clenched. "Don't jostle his core, Kaelith, he's magically unstable!"
"He's bleeding, Nyssa. Move," Kaelith shot back, already marching down the hall with me pressed tightly against her chest.
[Dynamic Action Recognized: The Unwarranted Carry. Base Reward: +60 LP.]
Nyssa hurried after us, forced to jog just to keep up with the Shadow-Knight's long strides. The Hobgoblin was practically vibrating with possessive jealousy, her eyes fixed entirely on where Kaelith's arm was wrapped around my back.
[System Alert: Dual Target Mode Engaged. Jealousy matrices overlapping.]
[Multiplier Applied (1.5x). Reward: +90 LP. Current Balance: 210 LP.]
"Just... get me to the medics," I groaned weakly, resting my head against Kaelith's collarbone. I let my eyes flutter shut, burying my face just enough to hide the cold, satisfied smirk that I couldn't quite suppress.