Draven's eyes fluttered open inside a dimly lit place that seemed like the interior of a cave, with a high, rough ceiling. He could hear noises around him — the pitiful cries and moans of people mixed with the familiar, beast-like laughter he had heard before he blacked out.
His brain swiftly registered his situation, and his eyes widened. He quickly lifted his torso from the ground, his eyes darting toward the noises as he began observing his surroundings.
He realized his initial suspicions were correct — he was indeed within the confines of a spacious cave, surrounded by many people — some unconscious, some barely conscious and pleading for their freedom, and others being tormented by green-skinned creatures.
A large campfire was burning in the middle of the cave, and by its flickering flames, he observed the torment of the helpless people at the hands of the strange, green-pigmented creatures he immediately recognized as goblins from numerous games he had played.
He spotted one of the goblins continuously bashing the head of a helpless man while the man pleaded and cried for mercy.
Beside him, another sliced a live human limb by limb, ignoring his desperate pleas.
Not too far from the first two, a semi-conscious lady was being assaulted by two goblins. She moaned painfully and pleaded for help with the last bit of strength she could muster, but it was futile.
After Draven was done observing the situation around him, a shiver ran down his spine. How the heck did I arrive in such a place? he wondered.
At the same time, he knew he had to do something, or else he might be the next victim — chopped limb from limb or having his skull bashed into a bloody paste.
Even if he were suicidal, dying at the hands of goblins in such a shameful manner was never how he imagined his end.
"System? How many minutes are remaining for my survival mission?" Draven whispered as quietly as he could.
[ 27 mins, 35 sec ]
Twenty-seven minutes was a good amount of time. If he hid himself perfectly among the abducted, he might not be victimized so soon. Nonetheless, fate had an entirely different scenario planned for him.
Just as he made up his mind, one of the goblins assaulting the defenseless young lady suddenly tilted its head in Draven's direction.
The eyes of man and predator met. One held a pretense of calm, while the other wore a cold grin — the grin of a predator.
It dropped the legs of the young lady it had been assaulting, grabbed a makeshift wooden bat from the ground, and began strolling toward Draven — its grin growing wider and stranger with each step.
"Fuck!" Draven, who had been forcing himself to stay calm, finally erupted. He stood up, his eyes scanning the room thoroughly for an exit — and he found one. Unfortunately, it was currently guarded by a couple of armed goblins. He was now caught between a frying pan and a fire.
At that moment, he couldn't help but curse the survival system. Why would it send him — an ordinary human — into such a bizarre world without a simple buff or weapon? It seemed to have planned his death from the very start, just like its past victims.
Thinking about it deeply, Draven wondered if the survival system had ever actually had any survivors.
Unfortunately, the present situation granted him no time to dwell on that thought.
Before the goblin reached him, Draven broke into a full sprint, running at the peak of his agility toward the exit. Both the goblins and the conscious-but-terrified humans in the cave turned in his direction, but none of them acted.
Before Draven had woken up, plenty of the abducted had tried to flee — but none had succeeded. If anything, their attempts had landed them on the butcher's table, and for the women… the thought made the captives' blood run cold as they recalled the fate of the females.
On the other hand, seeing that none of the goblins were chasing him — not even the one that had targeted him — Draven knew something was definitely wrong.
It didn't take long for him to realize the reason: it was none other than the three goblins guarding the exit. The others simply had faith in their guards.
"Fortunately, I've taken some combat lessons in my youth," he thought.
He clenched his fists as he drew closer to the exit, where the three guard goblins had already begun warming up their weapons with thrilled grins on their faces. Draven couldn't help but notice the blood dripping from their blades — definitely the blood of their past victims, and he refused to become one of them.
A stick! Draven spotted a tiny but durable-looking stick lying on the ground. He crouched expertly to grab it.
DING!
[ You've equipped a basic-grade item: Crooked Stick ]
Draven merely spared a quick glance at the notification before refocusing his attention on the goblins, who were now only a few meters away from him.
The moment they noticed he had drawn closer, they made their move. One of them let out a high-pitched screech and leapt toward Draven, swinging its heavy, makeshift wooden bat with full confidence.
Draven halted instinctively and swiftly swung his stick to block the goblin's attack. When their weapons clashed, he immediately felt the difference in their strength — his hands throbbed painfully from the impact.
SKREEE! The goblin's screech grew even more furious after failing to smash its target into unconsciousness with a single strike. Enraged, it swung again, this time aiming for Draven's stomach.
Fortunately, Draven saw the attack coming. His eyes narrowed as he held the stick vertically in front of his body, gripping it with all his strength.
The goblin's weapon came crashing down, shattering the stick in two. However, the stick managed to dull the deadly blow, giving Draven a brief opening — one he seized immediately.
Before the goblin could pull back its weapon for another attack, Draven released what was left of his stick and latched onto the goblin's weapon as though his life depended on it.
His sudden move drew shocked reactions from the onlookers. The goblins nearby were both confused and enraged — how could a mere human, especially one as scrawny-looking as Draven, dare to go head-to-head with their guards?
Meanwhile, the humans slowly began to realize they might have found a potential savior.
Unaware of the changes his actions had sparked around him, Draven continued struggling fiercely with his target.
SKREEE! The goblin shrieked again, completely enraged. It released the weapon and threw a vicious punch straight at Draven's exposed face.
The punch connected.
Instead of collapsing in pain like a normal human would, Draven grinned. Gathering all his strength and drawing from his combat training, he twisted the wooden bat in his hands and swung it with full force at the goblin.
The weapon smashed into the goblin's face, sending it sprawling to the ground. It let out a low, guttural growl of pain — a sound that served as a warning to the other two guard goblins, who immediately charged forward.
Unlike the first guard goblin, the other two wielded wooden weapons shaped like swords. They weren't particularly strong opponents.
A fierce battle broke out between Draven and the pair — and after four grueling minutes, it was over.
The three goblins now lay on the ground, writhing in pain. Two of them had dislocated joints, while the first one — Draven's original target — bled profusely from the face.
The sight plunged the entire cave into stunned silence for the next ten seconds.
The goblins who had paused their assaults could only glare at the human standing over their defeated comrades with growing contempt.
The conscious captives, on the other hand, stared at Draven with renewed hope.
Unfortunately for them, Draven had no intention of rescuing anyone.
With countless eyes — both human and goblin — fixed on him, Draven turned his back and bolted out of the cave, toward freedom. Or so he thought.
The goblins inside made no attempt to chase after him, contrary to Draven's expectations. Whether it was due to shock or something else, he couldn't tell.
...
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