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The Apocalypse Grinder - Chapter 9
🕑 Added 2025-06-18 08:46:11 +0000 UTC<< Chapter 8 | Index | Chapter 10 >>
Ronan had less than a second to react to the arrow sailing directly at his head. The goblin archer who’d fired it sneered, believing it was a sure kill.
In that instant, every single one of Ronan’s instincts and senses reached their apex. His synapses fired faster than they’d ever done before as the heat of battle brought him to a new realm of human potential.
He’d barely had time to skim the notification for killing the fifth goblin warrior, but one line stood out immediately.
+Goblin Buckler Lv.9 (Common)
Controlling his inventory only took a thought. The brain worked faster than the flight of the arrow, but even then he cut it close.
A round wooden buckler with a metal cap in the centre appeared in his right hand as he summoned it from his inventory. He stumbled forwards, the weight far greater than he expected.
Nonetheless, through sheer force of will and dogged determination he raised it to his face right as the arrow struck. The tip pierced through the wood, stopping a millimetre away from his eyeball.
He panted, adrenaline flooding his system. That wasn’t the first time Ronan had narrowly avoided death, but it was the most terrifying.
He lowered the shield, only to find two more arrows flying in his direction. They’d managed to slaughter all the lesser goblin warriors, but that was only the beginning of this battle.
Five archers nocked and loosed arrow after arrow as the goblin shaman constantly applied buffs to them. Another purple glow fell over Ronan and Keith’s bodies—the third curse of slowness.
As if things couldn’t get any worse, the glowing staff symbol filled up and then faded in a burst. Another lanky goblin strode out of the archway as an iron portcullis slammed shut behind it.
[Goblin Shaman Lv.12]
This one was wrapped in a cloak of black wool, ripped and torn in places and covered in trinkets, teeth, and goblin ears. Ronan grimaced and turned to Keith.
He saw the man on his knees. Keith looked more like a porcupine than a man, with dozens of arrows sticking out of him all over his body.
Blood poured out of him in rivers and his face was twisted in fear and pain. He collapsed the next moment and the hovering text above his head vanished.
“FUCK!” Ronan yelled. He turned to the goblins with burning vengeance in his eyes. “You’re going to die for that, you ugly green shits.”
The archers were too far to reach and the first shaman was safely tucked away behind them. Ronan’s movements felt lethargic with three instances of the curse applied to him.
However, none of that could compare to the anger he felt at Keith’s death. The guy was a shitty manager and an even worse ally in a fight, but he’d fought through his fear and stood beside Ronan against these disgusting goblin scumbags.
He’d died as a man. A warrior.
And Ronan intended to bury him with the corpses of twelve goblins to honour his sacrifice. Even if it killed him.
He was upon the shaman before it realised what had happened. Even three stacks of the curse of slowness wasn’t enough to hold him back.
His movements were sluggish compared to normal, but he’d been steadily dumping stat points into agility each time he leveled up. He was fast approaching superhuman levels of speed and reaction time.
The shamans were not weak, despite their focus being on their strange goblin magic. It wielded a staff of bones and even as Ronan struck the first blow with his fists it was retaliating.
A red glow suffused its body as it chanted a spell immediately followed by another red glow as the other shaman stacked their buffs. So far they’d only used the buffing spell and the curse of slowness but its body lit up green as it used a new spell.
Ronan didn’t give a crap. His fists pounded like the pistons of a v8 engine as he unleashed a torrent of punches against the shaman.
Every strike left a nasty bruise and one even drew blood as he smacked it in the jaw. The shaman’s head snapped to the side and it spat blood.
When its bone staff smacked against him, he staggered and felt the tremor in his body as his health points were drained. Arrows peppered him like rain, but even as his health approached zero, Ronan didn’t care.
The endless torrent of notifications from the system had become an annoyance rather than a useful tool. He mentally willed them to go away and to his surprise the system assented.
When the bone staff slammed into his chest, knocking the wind from his lungs, no message flashed in front of his eyes. Without the distraction he reacted instantly.
He lunged forward, spotting an opening in the shaman’s defenses. His knee flashed like lightning and buried itself in the goblin’s groin.
For the first time since the battle began the lanky green bastard screeched in pain and doubled over, clutching its privates. Ronan grinned. No one was safe from a nutshot, even if they were an ugly monster.
While the blow had been devastating the shaman still stood. The green glow coated its body once more and he noticed its wounds healing faster than usual.
That was a problem, but all it meant was he needed to end the fight before it could drag on. His health was dangerously low, less than 10 points. He had under a second to win the battle but he wasn’t scared.
His senses were on a knife’s edge as he danced the line between life and death. The instincts of a warrior carried him forward as he delivered a series of clinical strikes that began with a shield bash and ended with a sharp kick to the shaman’s neck.
A sound like a car being crushed in the demolition machine at a scrapyard was accompanied by an ear splitting screech that burst his left eardrum. Blood poured down the side of his face but he couldn’t contain his glee.
The shaman fell to the ground and the first notification in a while flashed in his view right as an arrow struck him in the gut. However, as he ripped the crude weapon from his flesh the wound healed itself.
You have killed [Goblin Shaman Lv.12]!
+21 Copper Credits
+6 [Pugilist] Mastery
+1 [Anti-Magic Mastery]
+2 [Shield Mastery]
+Goblin Toes (Common)
+Shaman’s Bone Staff Lv.12 (Common)
You have leveled up to Lv.6!
You have leveled up to Lv.7!
You have been restored!
+2 Vitality
+2 Endurance
+2 Free Stat Points
Ronan gasped as a painful wave of healing snapped bones into place and forced arrows from his flesh. Even the adrenaline was purged from his system, which left him in a state of forced limbo.
His mind was in overdrive but his body had lost its tension. However, sheer stubbornness kept him standing and advancing forward.
There was no time to waste. Six filthy goblins still stood. Each of them that lived was a stain on the world—an insult to Keith’s life and sacrifice.
Unlike the endless mud plains where the archers could run like cowards for eternity as he bled to death from a multitude of arrow wounds, in this cramped stone room they had nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.
He actually split the free stat points this time. One went to agility, but the other went to strength. Ronan felt as if his strikes had begun to ring hollow against the more powerful opponents and wanted the extra boost to bring the battle to a close.
Through a stroke of luck and decisive attacks, he’d slaughtered the most powerful foe. One goblin shaman remained but it was no longer bearing a confident sneer on its sharp face after seeing its brother die like a dog.
His health and stamina pools were much chunkier than they’d been when he entered this dimly lit dungeon. An ordinary man might’ve felt fear while facing down six goblins alone. Ronan trembled with excitement and rage.
Either he would send the goblins to the grave to accompany Keith or he would fall in battle and join the chubby bastard himself. Either way he would feel accomplished.
In the recesses of his mind, something dark and twisted demanded he throw himself into the crucible of battle. His feet were moving before his brain made the final decision.
The goblins froze in fear temporarily, but they soon whipped into action with a series of garbled shouts from the shaman. A red glow covered them all followed by a green glow, but the curse of slowness he was expecting never came.
Had it abandoned the use of that spell in favour of buffing its comrades? It was an admirable strategy, but right now Ronan knew that there was nothing that could stand in the way of his steel fists and heavy shield.
The goblin buckler felt lighter in his arms since he’d leveled up twice. He suspected there was a level restriction working against him but he didn’t have the attention to spare to check his inventory and read the description.
He roared at the goblins. Even a lion would tremble in the face of the unhinged bestial savagery he displayed. As he reached the first archer and raised his shield above his head, the monster’s eyes went wide as it understood fear for the first time,
The predator had become the prey. Ronan Steele would never be the same again once the red mist faded, but whether that would prove a boon or a curse remained to be seen.
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