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Goblin Chapter 147: 1,000 Kills!
🕑 Added 2025-08-11 17:47:52 +0000 UTCBecause this was a hastily assembled team with uneven strength and no chemistry, the eight of them didn’t coordinate; they split up and moved in according to their original squads.
Once everything was set, they charged the monster camp head-on.
“So fast!”
Out of the corner of his eye, Gauss caught only the afterimages of Iron Arm as they streaked forward.
Captain Quake led the rush.
His longsword carved a cold silver arc before him; any small fry—goblins, kobolds, and the like—had their heads taken the instant they blocked his path.
Gauss told himself he could also one-shot these bottom-tier monsters, but the effortlessness wasn’t remotely the same. Quake never so much as slowed a hair with any swing—his forward momentum never dipped. Under his lead, the whole squad became a razor wedge that drove straight into the camp’s core where the ogre stood.
The sorceress had clearly cast ahead of time.
The ogre, only just hauling itself upright, rolled its massive head left and right, glaring around—but ignored the squad carving through its troops, instead pounding the ground in rage, like it had been thrown into a fit of agitation and fury.
Closer by, the half-ogres and the gnoll who’d been abusing two captured female adventurers were the first to notice the intruders. They snatched up weapons and charged Iron Arm with enraged howls.
Gauss drew his gaze back.
His priority now was simple: kill as many as possible.
Quake hadn’t gone out of his way to mow down small fry—he’d only cleaned what was in front of him—yet the bodies left directly in his wake already numbered around thirty.
The ranger, Dorian, loosed shafts like a storm; every arrow at least dropped one or two targets.
Kathy’s contract beast finally showed itself as well—a forest python nearly fifteen meters long and as thick as an ostrich egg. It rolled and crushed through the mob, turning its size advantage into a gale of blood.
Gauss realized he’d miscalculated.
Iron Arm wasn’t being coy about the small fry; they were harvesting them freely.
He hurriedly drew his quick-casting bone wand and pre-loaded his mouth with a strip of jerky to keep the calories coming. At the same time he gathered mana.
A blue halo bloomed at the wand tip; three Magic Missiles fanned out in a chevron with a shriek!
By then the elite monsters had engaged Iron Arm. They weren’t true threats, but they were enough to buy Gauss precious “farm time”—otherwise, at Iron Arm’s pace, he might not snag the seventy-odd kills he needed.
“Goblin Slain ×2.”
“Kobold Slain ×3.”
“Craven Fiend Slain ×2.”
…
Gauss’s spells were merciless. Under precise magical “bombardment,” the enemy ranks thinned fast.
On Alia’s side, Entangle was primed; vines burst up through the soil like great snakes and snared anything in their path.
Gauss seized the chance to stow his wand and switch to his rapier.
No need to spend spells on stationary targets; better to save mana.
Chewing jerky, he tapped forward and leapt into the press. His rapier flickered several times so fast the air seemed to retain wisps of afterimages.
“Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!”
The point broke into a scatter of cold stars, landing with surgical grace on vital spots.
Crimson flowers blossomed from the rapier tip.
“Grahh!!”
The tangled monsters thrashed uselessly; as their weak points were pierced, life bled away and ticked up as numbers on Gauss’s monster panel.
Not far off, the two Level 1 adventurers who’d joined last were still catching their breath from an earlier rout. After they’d straightened their gear and glanced back, they froze.
On their right, Iron Arm was a battering ram, already cutting down CR-1 elites in quick succession.
On their left, Gauss was executing a high-efficiency massacre of the rabble.
It looked like… they weren’t needed here?
And what they couldn’t grasp: sure, the Level 2 and Level 3 pros were dominant—that made sense. But how was that black-haired, green-eyed Level 1 man that strong too? In pure small-fry slaughter, the ease he showed wasn’t something other Level 1s could match—almost not far off from the other side.
“Let’s… get in there too?”
Only when his partner called did one of them snap out of it. He nodded, tightened his grip on his weapon, and plunged into the fray.
On Iron Arm’s front, Quake easily knocked aside the gnoll’s chop. As the gnoll staggered back stiffly, the sword line he’d just finished somehow instantly re-coiled. With a low shout—“Step-in Slash!”—he flashed forward a step; his blade sheathed itself in condensed white energy—
“—shraaack!!”
A clean line ripped across the gnoll’s now-unarmored abdomen. Blood geysered.
That lunge-and-crosscut split the sturdy brute clean in two.
Quake straightened, breathing steady. A glance at his allies showed they’d already cleanly dispatched the other Level 1 elites.
For their team, ordinary CR-1 monsters weren’t much of a threat; the main caution was conserving stamina. Solve it with minimal expenditure, and take no hits.
He flicked his eyes toward Gauss and Alia.
He’d planned to send help if things looked dicey—the druid knew them, after all. He knew from experience how limited a Level 1’s power and runtime were, and they were only two.
But when he actually caught sight of that figure weaving through the field, he blinked.
No beleaguered circle of monsters pinning a struggling pair. On the contrary, Gauss was chasing enemies down and butchering them—and the nearest pack already looked halfway broken.
“This kid is vicious,” Quake muttered to himself, pulling his gaze back.
Since Gauss didn’t need help, Iron Arm could throw everything at the ogre.
An ogre might be listed as CR-2 on paper, but CR is only a reference. Treat it like gospel and you’ll eat dirt someday. You only truly know how strong something is after you trade steel.
Judging by the look of it, this ogre wasn’t low-tier either. Even with two Level 3s and two Level 2s, they needed to focus.
“Rumble!!!”
The ogre had shaken off the hex.
Seeing its minions dead, it let out a sky-splitting roar and thundered toward Iron Arm. Every step of those pillar legs made the earth quiver like a tiny quake.
“Form up!” Quake’s voice rang across the field. “Form up!”
Hearing the call, Gauss took stock. Iron Arm had already cleared the elites near the center and a swath of the rabble; the two battered captives were freed.
He clenched his jaw—time to speed up.
He didn’t know how Iron Arm vs. the ogre would play out. If they wrapped it fast, they’d swing around and scythe down the underlings. If they ran into trouble and needed help—or had to withdraw—he needed to be ready.
Either way, he had to finish quickly. More and more small fry had noticed their leader under attack and were surging toward Iron Arm—leaving him maybe a hundred or so bodies to harvest.
“Kill!!!”
With that thought, and while his mana was still recovering, Gauss chomped down jerky, raised his blade, and plunged back in.
He still had some mana, and he hadn’t touched his reserve in the Energy Gland, but he hated fighting with his body pegged at the limit. Worst case, if he had to order Alia to retreat and then trigger a teleport scroll, he’d need mana and a window to cast.
So alternating sword and spell was the way.
“Total Monster Kills: 963/1000.”
“Swordsmanship Basics Proficiency +1.”
After skewering another kobold, his Swordsmanship Basics ticked up again—now Lv3 (18/50).
Compared to before, it had risen fast over the last two days. Practice is the best teacher. From just before winterhunt to now, he’d gained 13 proficiency in the fundamentals.
And once it hit Lv3, he began to feel something different about the skill. It really is nothing but basics—thrust, cut, flick, parry, bind, wind… moves anyone who’s trained can learn. But as proficiency climbed, those plain motions were seeping into his body as instinct, becoming something else. Sometimes his body reacted before his brain thought—and when he reviewed it later, those instincts tended to be exactly right.
Which made him wonder: if Lv3 already felt this good, what would Lv4, Lv5, or even higher levels feel like?
The downside of being so basic is that it advanced slowly. It was his most used skill, yet not even halfway through Lv3; that told the story.
Still, Lv3 covered most needs. Against familiar foes, he knew every weak spot by heart—heart, throat, temporal lobe, core. One by one, the rapier pinned them through their vitals.
As for incoming blows from the rabble, he chose case by case. If it was negligible and would only ruin his next beat, he let the Gauss Forcefield take it and kept his offense rolling like a tide.
“Slain ×1 …”
“Slain ×1 …”
The messages flashed by.
And then—
[Total Monster Kill: 1,000/1,000.]
[Milestone achieved: The First Thousand.]
[Rewards Unlocked: Level 1 Spell – Burning Hands! Level 1 Spell – Alarm!]
[Other Reward: STR +1, CON +1.]
[Next Milestone: 2,000 Total Kills]
Current STR: 8
Current CON: 8
The thousand-kill mark must be a special threshold—the rewards were extra generous. Not only STR and CON up by one each, but two Level 1 Spells. [Burning Hands] gave him some much-needed AoE, patching a hole in his kit; [Alarm] was perfect utility for camping in the wild.
Market price per Level 1 spell was over 10 gold, but that was the least of it. More important: spells awarded by the Adventurer’s Manual didn’t add mental load. Every “free-slot” spell he learned was a permanent edge over other casters.
Combined with his above-average willpower, the number of spells he could command would far outstrip his peers.
A heartbeat later, a warm surge flooded his body. The dual boost to strength and constitution was indescribably comfortable—every cell seemed to cheer. The day’s fatigue vanished; his limbs thrummed with explosive power. The monsters around him had been cleared in a ring; the rest recoiled, none daring to step in.
He could have kept going, but with the mobs cowed he took the moment to savor the shift.
“Bzz, bzz, bzz!”
When the brief metamorphosis ended, his muscles hadn’t swollen—they’d actually “shrunk” a touch. But he felt the truth: denser, tougher fibers, more elastic and less prone to strain. His power application and burst movement would be even smoother. The tougher constitution deepened his breath and promised faster recovery and longer endurance—he’d feel fatigue less.
Gauss tightened his grip on the rapier. Looking over the cowering monsters, an itch crawled up his arms.
He stepped.
The motion was lightning—noticeably faster than before. Muscle fibers fired in perfect sync as he loosed a silk-smooth cut.
“Whip!!”
The blade tore the air with a sharp crack. The bite into flesh felt like slicing paper—just a soft “ssst” and it was through.
“So slick,” he marveled. “But a little light—time to upgrade the weapon.”
The STR/CON points paid off instantly. He ghosted forward; the rapier tapped twice, thrice—several more bodies fell, his breathing still steady.
Thrilled with the change, Gauss couldn’t help running the math. Even without any spells, at STR 8, plus [Brute Force], [Enhanced Leap], and [Swordsmanship Basics Lv3], if his opponent were a goblin—and factoring in his exclusive title [Bane] against them for a 20% base boost—then add a crit… could he one-shot a Level 1 Hobgoblin?
He really wanted to find out.
If only a big hobgoblin would show up so he could test it.
