I smell the goblins before I see them. The stench is revolting, like a public restroom abandoned for months in summer heat. I've been through my fair share of goblin-type gates, but their odor never fails to make my stomach churn.
Quietly, I draw my twin short spears from my [Item Box]. I know I'm not expected to fight unless necessary, but I refuse to be caught off-guard if one slips past the front line. Being prepared is half the reason I've stayed alive this long.
Miria takes position, planting her heavy shield into the rocky ground and lifting her mace. She's the picture of focus, solid, immovable. The moment the goblins round the corner, she'll be ready.
Lexi has already vanished into the shadows. I can imagine how this will play out: the goblins will charge, fixate on Miria, and never even notice the cloaked death waiting behind them.
Sylvia, on the other hand, is frozen. Her hands clutch her staff tightly, her knuckles pale. I can't tell if she's new to gate-running or if goblins are a personal weakness. Either way, she's not ready.
The goblins finally come into view, five of them, just as Lexi had said. They wear tattered loincloths and wield crude, stone-tipped spears. Two of them have bones tangled into their matted hair like tribal ornaments, accentuating their savage appearance.
The moment they spot us, they screech and charge.
"Skreeeeee!"
Miria steps forward and unleashes a tanking skill. "[Aggro Call]." Her shield glows faintly blue as the goblins' focus locks onto her. All five slam into her shield like rabid dogs, thrusting their primitive weapons against the glowing barrier. They make no attempt to strategize. For all their ability to speak, goblins are feral things, dumb, instinct-driven, and violent.
Even knowing this, I'm always surprised by how irrational they are. You'd think anything capable of speech would eventually evolve a higher level of thought. But goblins? They're single-digit IQ trash that should've gone extinct long ago.
While Miria holds the line, Lexi emerges from the shadows like a wraith. Her movement is so smooth it seems impossible, two swift blurs of motion, and suddenly two goblins are on the ground, clutching their slashed throats. Their deaths are silent and quick, their blood soaking the stone.
One of the remaining goblins turns at the wrong moment, catching a glimpse of Lexi's retreating form. That single lapse costs him dearly. Miria seizes the opportunity and smashes her mace into the back of his skull. The impact caves it in like a rotten pumpkin. He collapses in a heap, lifeless.
Of the final two, one remains locked onto Miria, still stabbing with the splintered remains of his broken spear. It's a pitiful sight, like watching a child with a stick try to fight a full-grown adult in armour. Miria can't help but chuckle.
The last goblin, however, has broken free of Miria's aggro radius. He spots Sylvia and lets out a vile snicker. "Gobbo's gonna breed the elf!"
Sylvia freezes completely. She doesn't raise her staff, doesn't cast a spell, just stands there, trembling.
Miria is still occupied, and Lexi has vanished again. That leaves me.
I step forward and hurl one of my short spears with precision. The weapon whistles through the air and slams into the goblin's throat. The force lifts the creature off its feet and pins it to the stone behind him. He gurgles as bright red blood pours down his chest, bubbling out of his mouth until he finally goes limp.
[Slain: Goblin LVL 5 - +15 EXP]
When I turn back, Miria has already dispatched the last goblin. All five are down.
I glance over to check on Sylvia, and Lexi is already there, standing protectively beside her.
"I figured you had it," I say, recalling the spear from the goblin's open throat. "But my instincts kicked in. Loot rights are still yours, of course."
Lexi gives a faint nod. "It's fine. Thanks for protecting Sylvia."
She doesn't sound irritated. It's just courtesy to clarify in case she thought I was interfering. Truthfully, if Sylvia hadn't frozen like that, I would've stayed out of it. It's not really my business, but when someone starts running toward your flank with a spear and bad intentions, you act.
Sylvia stares down at the corpse, her entire body shaking. She's pale, whispering something under her breath, and clearly on the verge of breaking down. It's not my place to dig into the team's dynamics, but I'm also not keen on dying because someone loses their nerve.
I turn to Miria. "I don't mean to pry, but I don't want to be surprised like that again. If Sylvia's going to freeze up every time a goblin appears, that's a serious problem for all of us."
Miria winces, but she nods. She's experienced enough to know I'm not wrong to say it.
"She's afraid of goblins. We brought her here hoping to help her work through it. Honestly, we didn't expect her to freeze up like that. Give us a few minutes to talk to her?"
I nod and step away to give them some space. Whether we continue the run or not, I'll still get my flat rate. I might not make much from loot, but I won't complain either way.
It takes them ten minutes of whispered conversation, hugs, and reassurances to calm her down. Eventually, they walk back over.
Sylvia bows her head. "Thank you for saving me. I'm… I'm really sorry. I want to continue, but if you're uncomfortable, we'll still pay your rate and let you go."
I shake my head. "I'll continue, on one condition. I can handle goblins, but I'm not a frontline fighter. If it happens again, if you freeze up like that, I'm out. No hard feelings, but I can't risk my life like that. Deal?"
I try to sound understanding, not angry. I'm not trying to humiliate her. But I also won't lie and pretend everything's fine. In a gate, honesty keeps people alive.
Sylvia meets my eyes, her expression firm despite the lingering fear. "Deal."
I nod. "Good. Then let's keep moving."
With the team regrouped, we continue deeper into the gate, I suck the loot and goblin corpses into my [Item box].
Sylvia may still be trembling, but there's a glimmer of resolve in her eyes now.
I hope it lasts