"Call everyone to be ready after eating," Lyssandra commanded the goblin behind her. "Except the female goblins."
He quickly scampered off to deliver the order.
Lyssandra then collected all the weapons in the armory into her system inventory.
After a while, she walked out and surveyed the scene. 25 goblins were present, none missing.
She divided them into three rows: ten goblins at the front, another ten in the middle, and five at the very back.
To the first ten, she handed out large shields.
Goblins were naturally short, so most used small bucklers instead of proper shields so when holding the larger models, the shields completely dwarfed their small bodies.
Next, she distributed spears to the middle row.
Finally, for the last five, she instructed them to gather as many loose pebbles or medium size rocks as possible. The more, the better.
The goblins scrambled, collecting stones until their hands were full.
Once everyone was armed and ready, she addressed the group.
"Now form a tight line!" she barked at the front row. "Remember to keep the shields close together so no gaps show between them!"
They struggled mightily to maintain any semblance of a coherent formation. Moving the massive shields proved nearly impossible.
"As expected, they are just monsters, not real soldiers," she sighed heavily.
"But I anticipated this." She changed tactics, ordering two goblins to share each shield.
This arrangement worked, albeit poorly. They could lift and shift the bulky armor, though stability remained a distant dream.
Lyssandra then turned her attention to the middle row. Ten goblins stood there, gripping spears that towered twice their height. These weapons were undeniably cumbersome.
Again, she implemented the pairing strategy. Two goblins would handle each long polearm.
Finally, she commanded them to begin training.
First, familiarity with the unwieldy equipment itself, then progress toward synchronized movement between pairs operating single arms.
A strange rhythm emerged from the clumsy squad - creaking wood, straining muscle, and determined grunts filling the cavernous air. Their movements lacked precision yet showed growing resolve beneath Lyssandra's watchful eye.
After hours of stumbling through basic exercises, some pairs began finding loose synchronicity within themselves. That fragile spark of teamwork ignited like the cooking fires earlier - small flame expanding into something brighter still.
After many hours at the makeshift drill ground, she called time for rest and food. Exhaustion hung thick upon every face, green or blonde alike.
Tonight brought another battle against fatigue rather than monsters. Sleep beckoned sweetly to warrior. Yet the days ahead promised its own trials ahead…
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Somewhere dark, damp, and humid, a strange presence wandered. Squishy, wet sounds echoed as something soft moved blindly through the gloom.
Its target came into view, a crack between two towering boulders housing a humanoid silhouette. An instinctive urge pulsed deep in its core
kill…
Inside the fissure lay an adventurer, grievously wounded. Blood pooled beneath his mangled frame, blackened skin stretched over twisted bone. He was barely conscious now.
"!em llik t'nod esaelp", he whimpered but his words meant little to the creature. They sounded nothing more than meaningless static against roaring instincts.
…kill them…
The whisper grew stronger.
Had this being seen clearly, it would recognize pain in the man's desperate expression. But instead, only command remained clear
KILL
And again:
KILL!!!
Hesitation flickered briefly before overwhelming force surged. The mental pressure built, a relentless loop driving the simple creature onward toward its prey. Pain flared across its existence like acid dripping onto raw flesh.
"Stop hurting!" it cried out mentally, writhing under suffocating orders.
Suddenly, the murmurs erupted into deafening roars. Each syllable hammered down with crushing weight until sanity frayed apart completely. Over and over
KILL KILL KILL KILL
Until madness took hold utterly. Swirling movements shook through dim shadows as sorrowful realization dawned: "I don't wish to kill anymore. Not like this". Then.
It snapped, its wandering form freezing mid-motion. The gurgling ceased.
The adventurer watched from the crack, his chest heaving with ragged, wet breaths. He saw the shadow detach.
Thud.
His left arm slid off at the shoulder. It hit the damp floor with a meaty splash.
It had happened so fast and so cleanly that sensation hadn't even registered yet. Only cold seeped into his stump.
Behind him, the rock face bore a scar, a clean, vertical slice carved straight through granite by invisible force. Water dripped heavily from the incision.
"Huh?" His eyes bulged, glassy with shock.
He turned slowly, his neck muscles straining against the unnatural weight of silence. He stared at the oozing mess where his limb once was. Red blood pumped rhythmically, spattering the muddy ground.
"!em llik t'noD !enod m'I !esaelp-p" he begged, his voice cracking into a hysterical shriek. He thrashed against the stones, tears mixing with grime. "!ti od t'nod"
But the mindless thing cared for no pleas.
With a sudden roar of pressurized fluid, a jet shot forth from its core. A lance of hyper-compressed water screamed past the air.
It struck true.
The adventurer's torso split open like an overripe melon. Bone shattered instantly. Guts sprayed outward in a crimson arc, coating the ancient walls in fresh gore.
His scream was cut short, replaced by a gurgle as the blade of liquid liquefied his spine before severing him completely in half.
Its instinct satisfied, it settled back into a calm state. The internal storm receded to a gentle ripple.
"It happened again," it thought, confusion swirling within the clear fluid. No regret but frustrated, it drifted away, leaving only the soft sound of trickling water behind.
Suddenly, a clamor erupted in the distance. Multiple figures moved in unison, a chaotic rhythm cutting through the darkness.
Then it heard it. For the first time since its creation, a sound penetrated beyond those vile instincts that it could understand.
Sweet. Domineering. Terrifyingly close.
"Shield t…! H.ld yo.. po.it.on!"
The command vibrated through the damp air. The entity paused, drawn toward the source.
"Hol.! L.t th.m c.me clos..r."
Drifting upward on a slow current, it ascended to a higher ledge, a shadow hanging above. Something deep within resonated with the voice, an urge to obey, or perhaps fear.
"Hold, hold...NOW!"
Spears of pressure lanced forward.
The impact came not as sight, but as a violent disturbance, shockwaves tearing through the water, reverberating through its gelatinous form.
Its kin answered in reflex, unleashing torrents of high-pressure jets, streams of water screaming forward to meet the incoming force.
For a brief moment, the currents clashed, pressure against pressure before shattering apart.
The echoes told the rest. Its kin were gone.
One by one, their forms ruptured, bursting into scattered sprays of water, their cores collapsing as the force tore through them. The currents that once carried them fell still, empty, hollow.
Another command sliced through the caverns' oppressive gloom.
"Shield team! AGAIN"
Green bodies stepped together, forming a perfect arcane line between worldly law and death itself.
Tension cracked audibly through the stale, wet air, pressure building behind shields like tectonic plates forcing their edges closer. Then, release.
Water slammed against wood in a deafening roar, thunder splitting through stone. The impacts staggered every creature present.
Some shields bowed inward. Some warriors stumbled backward, braced legs sinking into sodden earth. But none broke ranks.
Instead, the formation reformed without pause, a precise geometry of iron will.
"SPEAR!"
Like practiced dancers, the outer rows pulled aside precisely twenty centimeter, just wide enough for death to slip through unnoticed.
Long, blackened spears thrust forth faster than thought could follow them.
They sought only the translucent pulse beating weakly beneath the surface. The weakest point. The core.
Steel tips found target. High-pitched screams of shattering water vaporized into thin air amidst geysers of crystal blue droplets.
Some strokes misfired. Some severed connections entirely.
Four corpses ceased existence instantly. Four more writhed in agony as life leaked from broken core.
"STONE!"
Spearman dropped back behind the wall of protection. Shields sealed shut again, impervious once more.
Overhead, figures released contents from crude sacks woven tight upon leather frames.
Hundreds upon hundreds of fragments plummeted towards the shattered remains below. Not aimed precisely. Not thrown with skill.
Pure weight, pure chance. Rainfall of pain. Every strike meant.
Rocks hammered into slack bodies already decimated by previous attacks. Heavy ones crushed remaining fragments beyond revival. Light ones bounced harmless off armored backs behind their impregnable barricade.
All were not here to kill more effectively than necessary. No. These rocks were simply to waste time before death became even sweeter.