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Chapter 17 - Chapter 17: The Tactical Dismantling

Chapter 17: The Tactical Dismantling

The western corridor leading to the infirmary wing was a notorious tactical blind spot.

The mana torches here burned incredibly low and sputtered constantly, casting long, twitchy shadows against the damp, uneven stonework.

I was walking back from the alchemy labs, my boots echoing hollowly in the heavy silence.

Too hollowly.

Step.

Step.

Pause.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

The faint echo of my own footsteps faded, replaced entirely by the heavy, wet sound of localized breathing and the unmistakable, grinding scrape of iron against stone.

Scraaaape.

"Well, look who is 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 towering, walking mountain of dark green muscle and bad intentions.

Two of his sniveling lackeys stepped out of the gloom right behind him, lazily slapping crude, iron-studded maces against their open, calloused palms.

Smack.

Smack.

"You are standing in my hallway, Gorgug," I said, my voice dropping dead flat.

I kept my hands loosely and non-threateningly in my coat pockets.

Gorgug spat a thick wad of phlegm onto the flagstones.

"I am entirely sick of looking at that gold Rank 10 badge on a scrawny, defective green runt. It is a joke. You are a joke."

He cracked his thick neck, a sound exactly like heavy branches snapping in half.

CRACK.

POP.

"Break his knees. Let us see if the great tactician can crawl to his next class."

"Got it, boss," the larger lackey grunted.

He did not even bother dropping into a proper combat stance.

He just stepped forward, raised the heavy iron mace high, and brought it down in a sloppy, arrogant arc aimed directly at my collarbone.

I did not flinch.

The Sovereign's Conduit roared to life inside my chest.

I inhaled sharply, dragging the stale corridor air and ambient mana deep into my lungs.

My F-Grade core spun furiously like an industrial turbine, catching the chaotic energy, rapidly compressing it, and shifting its fundamental frequency in a fraction of a second.

Aura.

The biological change was violent and immediate.

The agonizing, natural frailty of my base goblin biology was instantly overwritten.

Dense, brilliant silver light pulsed brightly through the veins in my forearms, making my green skin feel exactly like forged steel.

I did not step back.

I stepped directly inside the trajectory of his swing.

CLANG!

The heavy iron mace slammed brutally into my raised forearm.

The canvas sleeve of my Academy coat tore instantly, but beneath the fabric, my magically hardened skin barely even bruised.

The lackey's beady eyes bulged, his jaw dropping in stupid, uncomprehending shock.

Before his sluggish brain could even formulate a coherent thought, I drove my right fist forward with the explosive, terrible force of a tightly coiled spring.

My knuckles connected flawlessly with the side of his kneecap.

KRA-CRUNCH!

The bone shattered completely with a sickening, wet crunch that echoed loudly down the empty hall.

The lackey shrieked.

It was a high, piercing, entirely un-orc-like wail.

He crumpled instantly to the stone floor, dropping his heavy mace to claw frantically at his ruined, useless leg.

"My leg!

Ah, my fucking leg!"

Gorgug stared down at his screaming subordinate, his brutish brain totally short-circuiting.

"What the... you little freak!

I will tear your head off!"

The towering Orc roared, his own brutish, blood-red Aura flaring violently to life around his massive frame as he charged me like a runaway, out-of-control siege engine.

I did not try to match his overwhelming physical strength.

I shifted.

Exhale.

Magic.

The dense, physical power vanished entirely from my limbs, leaving me feeling instantly hollow and incredibly fragile, but the raw energy surged rapidly upward, converting seamlessly into volatile, searing Arcane heat.

I raised my open palm directly into Gorgug's charging path.

I did not cast a fireball.

Weaving the incantation took far too long.

I just forcefully gathered raw, unrefined mana into a microscopic, highly pressurized point in the exact center of my palm and released the mental lock.

The resulting flash-bang was absolutely catastrophic.

FWOOOOSH-BANG!

A concussive wave of blinding purple light and searing heat detonated mere inches from Gorgug's face.

The massive boom rattled the thick dust from the ceiling.

The Orc screamed in agony, his immense momentum carrying him blindly forward as he crashed hard into the solid stone wall.

THUD!

He slid helplessly to the floor, desperately clutching his burned, unseeing eyes.

His red Aura sputtered out completely in his overwhelming panic.

It was over in exactly four seconds.

Surgical.

Brutal.

Flawless.

"Grik!"

Rapid, frantic footsteps echoed loudly down the stone corridor.

Tap-tap-tap-tap!

I instantly cut the conduit, completely dumping the remaining mana out of my fragile system.

The physical backlash of shutting off the technique so abruptly hit my scrawny body exactly like a physical blow.

I was not entirely faking my weakness this time.

My knees genuinely buckled, and I hit the cold stone floor hard, coughing violently as the glowing silver veins rapidly receded under my skin.

Shifting magical frequencies took a massive, agonizing toll on a body that had not yet evolved.

Kaelith and Nyssa skidded wildly around the corner, weapons fully drawn and deadly spells flaring brightly, completely expecting to walk into a horrific bloodbath.

Instead, they found two massive Orcs screaming pathetically on the floor, and me huddled weakly against the stone wall, wheezing and clutching my ribs in apparent agony.

"Grik!

Oh my god, what happened?!"

Nyssa cried out.

She dropped rapidly to her knees beside me, her delicate hands hovering nervously over my chest, absolutely terrified to touch me in case my body shattered.

"They... they jumped me," I rasped out, forcing a highly convincing, pained wince as I looked up at her glowing emerald eyes.

"The hallway was dark.

I did not see them coming."

Kaelith did not utter a single word.

Her glacial silver eyes darted instantly from the sobbing Orc with the shattered knee to Gorgug, who was still blindly clawing at his scorched face.

Her assassin's mind processed the brutal scene in a fraction of a second.

She did not ask unnecessary questions.

Without hesitating for a moment, Kaelith stepped purposefully past Nyssa, hooked her left arm securely under my knees, and slid her right arm firmly around my back.

She lifted my dead weight completely off the ground in a rigid, effortless princess carry.

"I have got him," Kaelith snapped.

Her voice was tight with leftover combat adrenaline as she glared murderously down at the groaning Orcs.

"Wait!

Watch his neck!"

Nyssa yelled, frantically scrambling to her feet, her emerald eyes zeroing in directly on my intimate position in Kaelith's strong arms.

Her jaw clenched tightly.

"Do not jostle his core, Kaelith.

He is magically unstable!"

"He is bleeding, Nyssa.

Move," Kaelith shot back, already marching rapidly down the hall with me pressed incredibly tightly against her chest.

[Dynamic Action Recognized: The Unwarranted Carry.]

[Base Reward: +60 LP.]

Nyssa hurried anxiously after us, forced to jog just to keep up with the Shadow-Knight's long, determined strides.

The High Hobgoblin was practically vibrating with pure possessive jealousy, her eyes fixed entirely on exactly where Kaelith's arm was wrapped securely 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 heavy head completely against Kaelith's warm collarbone.

I let my eyes flutter shut, burying my face just enough to perfectly hide the cold, deeply satisfied smirk that I simply could not suppress.

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