Chương 9: A Reward

Out of thin air, two black pieces of metal appear at head level, falling and ringing out as they hit the ground. The sound makes me wince as I step closer, my eyes sparkling as I pick out features. Two beautiful gauntlets sit on the ground in front of me. Without waiting, I snatch them up and put them on. My hands slide in against the soft, absorbent leather. Plates of stern, interlocking metal travel from my wrist all the way to my elbows.

Instead of flexible, delicate plates for dexterous fingers or a slightly thicker mitten-like glove, the fist is forged closed. These aren't tools with opposable thumbs or fingers. These are weapons made for killing and killing only. At the front of the fist, there is a thick, rounded plate of metal. Attached to the plate are three wicked, twisted spikes about 2 inches long, clearly made to invoke bleeding. My fists come up as I do some quick shadow boxing. Damn, these things are heavy.

I've never worn any type of gauntlet before, but I've seen the metal gloves that knights used to wear. With how thin the metal was on those, they couldn't have been more than four or five pounds. But the gauntlets on my hands are different. They must easily weigh ten pounds each. They were clearly made for people prioritising endurance and strength. Which, sadly, are my two lowest stats. Even after boxing for only a couple of minutes, my arms start to ache. My stamina isn't liking this.

Letting my hands hang, I turn and look at the new room. My gaze shifts back to the gauntlets. I definitely can't use them very well. With my fighting ability and stats, they're going to be incredibly unwieldy. I stare at the hatchet in the hobgoblin's hand. If I fight with a broken sword or a repurposed collar against a weapon with range or defence, it's even worse. Sighing, I reach to stroke my growing beard. I stop myself right before a twisted spike punctures my chin.

Another few seconds go by as I admire the beautiful craftsmanship. Gotta get used to them at some point. I want to strike my fists together like some sort of protagonist or mecha pilot to hype myself up, but I worry about damaging the spikes. Shaking my head, I walk up to the door and use a spike to pull up the latch. A deep breath enters my lungs.

"Kevin, focus, remain aware of all enemies, dodge all attacks, and fight as hard as possible without self-injury or exhaustion until the fight ends" I try to be as all-encompassing as possible with my words. The door opens slightly, and the hobgoblin's eyes flicker to me instantly. The hobgoblin rises to its feet, with the goblins following soon after. While holding my arms up in what I know is a horrible boxing stance, I walk in. As usual, both goblins attempt to circle me from the side.

As usual, I move to the right and mirror one, causing it to snarl and lunge at me. This time, I pull my fist back with a heavy motion, swinging it forward with massive momentum. In shock, I watch as my fist connects, all spikes piercing to the base. The plate of the fist follows and crushes the skull. The goblin stumbles back a single step, then falls. Chime It lies on the ground, unmoving. My eyes snap back to the other two enemies. The other goblin looks on in shock.

Even the smarter hobgoblin watches in surprise. Not wanting them to run, I march towards the other goblin. As soon as I choose my target, the hobgoblin makes himself scarce, slinking around to the side. I move back at an angle to prevent getting surrounded. The hobgoblin yells and snarls at the goblin. Both of them come to an understanding. My face grows stern as both of them move in the same direction. They're trying to stay on opposite sides of me so my flank is always open.

Damn, an actual tame would help so much right now. Without any options, I burst into motion, rushing at the smaller target. The quiet slaps of feet behind me tell me the hobgoblin is chasing. The goblin panics and tries to back away, but I follow it like a missile. With no other option, the goblin turns to me and rushes. I pull back and thrust my fist forward, but the goblin curves around my slow punch to pounce again. My nerves grow, but my body is unfazed.

I step back and swing my other fist down onto the thing's head. Again, all three spikes puncture the goblin's skull as I send it crashing into the ground with a crack. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings. A chime sounds in my head as I whip around, bracing for the new threat. It's too late. My body jerks back with impossible reaction speed, but the hatchet cleaves a half-inch groove through the front of my left shoulder.

I tense for the wave of pain, but only a sense of loss and weakness hits me. Before I can wonder what happened, my body acts. My torso twists, and my arm moves in before the hobgoblin even finishes its swing. The hobgoblin tries to pull back, but it reacts too slowly to fully dodge. The gauntlet connects with its face, the edge spike tearing open its cheek and ripping a chunk of meat out. The plate of the gauntlet follows and collides with a crack, shattering the left side of the hobgoblin's jaw into shards.

It stumbles back, and I stumble to my feet. We stare at each other. Blood drools from my shoulder and my left arm shakes from the strain of holding the gauntlet up. The hobgoblin's jaw is only attached on one side, with blood flowing like a river from its face. For several seconds, we stare at each other with a frantic, adrenaline-filled gaze. With my endurance on a timer, I rush forward. The hobgoblin does the same. I pull back and throw a punch with my left hand, faltering halfway as my injured arm gives up.

The hobgoblin's eyes narrow with opportunity as it strikes down with its hatchet. I smirk. My body curves up from the position, my right fist meeting the hobgoblin's arm as it comes down from the strike. The hatchet flies back before it can hit my neck. The middle spike pierces through its forearm, sliding between both of the bones and erupting on the other side. The hobgoblin gargle-snarls as it drops its hatchet in pain. It tries to pull its arm away, but my motion continues.

I keep swinging, the spike ripping through the hobgoblin's arm and pulling it towards me onto the ground. It crashes to the ground in a heap. I rip the gauntlet out of its arm and lift it over my head. The hobgoblin watches in panic and brings its good arm to shield itself. It does nothing. The side of my gauntlet descends like a meteor and crashes into its face. Bones crack and snap under my weapon. Again, I raise the gauntlet over my head. The hobgoblin raises its hand weakly, but I push it aside.

My fist crashes down again, this time followed by a crunch and the caving of its skull. I pick my fist up one more time, but a chime sounds in my head, and I let it fall to the side. Its mutilated face burns itself into my mind. The pain and strain hit immediately. Both gauntlets slip and fall off my hands, and I wince as my arm flares up.

"Kevin, stop feeling pain," I whip out quickly. To my surprise, along with the pain in my shoulder, the pulsing pain in my muscles vanishes. I roll over and lie next to the corpse. My breath comes out in huffs. Fuck, this skill is way too powerful System, show me. I didn't feel any impactful changes, so I'm not expecting a level up. [You have slain Hobgoblin lv. 5] [You have slain Goblin lv. 1 x2] [Partial experience granted x6] [Control Tamed Being(lv. 4) > (lv. 5)] [You have earned a reward for clearing a room] [Accept / Bank / Consolidate] As I read, a new message pops up at the bottom. [Bleed Resistance(lv. 1) > (lv. 2)] Huh, guess I don't get a chime when I'm already looking at a screen. The injury in my arm makes me concerned. I don't have any stitches on me or anything to keep it closed. I started with a perception of thirteen, so a vitality of fourteen likely isn't going to magically heal it.

I think for a moment before my gaze slowly takes me back to the holographic screen. [Accept / Bank / Consolidate]"Please, oh heavenly system! Grant something to your honorable follower to heal his wounds!" I plead, looking the ceiling. The screen pushes back magnetically as I tap accept. As if I blinked and missed it, a small, round bottle of red liquid appears in front of me. It falls, bounces off my foot and hits the stony ground, cracking and leaking.

"Crap. crap. crap," I mumble, reaching down and snatching it up. Without time to identify, I rip the cork off and down the entire thing. I expect a taste either like strawberries, garbage, or a mix of unknown herbs, but I'm hit with nothing. It's like drinking water at body temperature or swallowing saliva. Once I finish, I take off my jacket and shirt, tying the already stained red shirt around my shoulder. I don't trust the magic of the potion enough to believe it will pull my flesh together when healing me.

After I finish tying my shirt, I walk back to my starting room while looking at my health. [Health: 190(135)] What was it last? Like a hundred and thirty? It didn't go down at all, even though I just took a hit. I stroke my growing beard as I take a longer and longer walk back to my first room every time I advance. Is it possibly because of the increase of total health? Opening up my status, I press health.

[Health: a resource provided by the system to measure the level of current vitality in the user's body against their closeness to death. Higher values make all injuries less impactful on the user's survival.] Less impactful? That's so vague. I sit down next to my trusty plastic bag of sustenance and check my health again, but it's still the same amount. Being this slow, it's clearly not meant for in-combat situations. Opening the bag, I frown as I realize all the hamburgers are gone.

All that's left are chicken salads, and I've always hated salad. I pull one out with a sigh of resignation and begin munching down while sipping on a soda, which I'm also not fond of. Oh well. Fuel in the tank. Bored, I open up my health and smile when it's one point higher than before. After munching for a while, I realize something. I'm lonely. I used to think that I spent so much time alone when I was on earth, but after zero interaction with people for four days, I really noticed the difference.

Slowly, I slump and stop chewing. Twenty-something days until I see people again. I hope they haven't gone insane from being forced to fight for their lives. Or become assholes who crave power. The other half of the salad stays in the bag. One reason is to ration, and another is that I hate eating it. Moreover, shouldn't I be more shell-shocked or scared of fighting? I've always imagined myself instantly becoming some awesome warrior whom all people look up to.

But in reality, I expected myself to be shaken or even broken after fighting for the first time. But I wasn't really fazed at all. Is that the work of the system, or was that just me? My hand goes to my beard as I think. I really hope the system isn't influencing my mind. But I doubt that's the case since it's given me so many choices so far. Then I remember it force-chose my class, my rewards, and my tamed being skills. Okay, maybe not a complete choice, but at least it's the illusion of choice.

With a sigh, I lie against the floor. The rooms will probably increase as they've done so far. If I'm going by previous data, it should only be about six rooms until I'm fighting five hobgoblins, which I don't think will be within my capabilities. Even with increased stats. A weak tingling surfaces in my injured leg and shoulder. Like bubbling poprocks. Likely the potion. I stare at the dim ceiling in boredom. I want to fight, but it's probably better to wait for the potion to saturate and fight undamaged.

Minutes pass as I inspect the moss on every rock. Damn, I wish I had my phone right now.