The sun sets, and the huge moon is the only thing left lighting up the goblins' camp at night. It does a pretty good job, I guess. It’s way brighter than Earth’s moon and hangs in the sky as a constant reminder that I am no longer on my home planet.
I try to find sleep, but for nearly an hour all the goblins in camp are rowdier for some reason, keeping me awake. They ignore all of us captives, like they did for the most part during the day, while gathering supplies and weapons at one of the gates. After an hour the goblin wearing the deerskull, which I assume to be their leader, leaves from the cave, the red gemstone easy to spot in the dark.
The leader of the goblins walks up to the gathered group outside of the left gate and starts giving what I assume is a speech. It sounds horrible. A mix of shrieks and screaming that all of the other goblins and hobgoblins cheer to. After about a minute of this ‘speech,’ nearly thirty goblins charge out of the gate and into the dark forest.
The speech-giving goblin and its four hobgoblin guards turn and head straight back into the cave, making no detours.
The night is cold and quiet from then on as I lie down in my cell and try to sleep.
***
I awake once again to the sun shining through my eyelids, forcing me back to reality.
My mana reservoirs are as full as they have ever been, having had all night to recharge. My body feels more powerful and a little bit lighter than before, despite my current condition. The shallow scratches on my arms have already completely scabbed over, and my head wound is just a big bump now. My shoulder still hurts, a lot. But there is nothing I can do about it, not yet at least.
I sit up with a wince as my shoulder flares in pain and look around.
Merrick is sitting on the floor of his cell with his back turned to me, whispering something I can’t hear to Stella, who is lying on her back with her eyes closed.
I feed a small pulse of mana into [Space Control] to activate my spatial senses for just a moment, focusing the perception it gives me over all of the cells.
Merrick and Stella seem fine. In the moment my skill is active, I can tell that their chests and other parts of their bodies are making small movements. The lady in the last cell is completely still. I can tell she has died in the night.
I feel a small tinge of guilt for never having learned her name, but it’s not like I could have saved her. She was just unlucky. Like all of us that were chosen as initiates.
My next cell neighbor spins around on his butt to face me, with the same friendly smile he always has on.
He looks kind of creepy with his pitch-black lips, teeth, and eyes, but I don’t hold that against him. I still think it might be from some sort of magical disease or something, but it seems rude to ask.
“I’ve been talking to Stella while you were sleeping away the morning”—his tone is completely sarcastic as he says this—“and you aren’t the only one with a powerful skill. She has some absolutely incredible healing potential, which likely makes her even more valuable than you, space mage.”
“Are healers and space mages rare?”
“Yes. Space mages much more so, especially for humans, but healers will always be the most valuable. People would rather walk on two legs than have someone teleport them everywhere. Most people anyway. But that is neither here nor there, because you are probably going to fight some goblins today,” Merrick says with a cheery attitude.
How can he always give terrible news with such a happy attitude? It’s amusing in its own annoying way.
I let out a big sigh, asking, “Why am I going to fight goblins today? Are we breaking out of here or something?”
“No, of course not. I wouldn’t have let myself be captured if I was just going to break out. That’s stupid.” He says as if it’s the most natural thing ever. “Every morning the goblin shaman, that’s the one with the deerskull by the way, picks one captive to fight in their pits. Isn’t that exciting?”
I’m not even surprised anymore. I’ve been locked up next to an actually insane man and am forced to listen to his crazy ramblings. Maybe this is all a hallucination.
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“No, Merrick. That is not exciting.” I say with a dejected voice, hoping this is another one of his jokes. “Why does this shaman pick one of us to fight? Why not just kill us now?”
“Because, for a goblin to evolve into a hobgoblin, it needs to reach level fifteen and kill a person. We are people, by the way. Anyone with [System] access like us is a person. Goblins are technically monsters, so the [System] is pretty different for them, at least from what I’ve heard.”
“Monsters have a different [System]?” I ask.
“Yes. Well, it’s the same [System], but it treats us differently. For the most part it pits both sides against each other, but if a monster evolves far enough, it will be recognized as a person by the [System] and be treated like the rest of us.”
Interesting. What would a person created that way even look like? I wonder if this world has dragons. That would be cool as hell to see. From far away, probably.
“I’m getting off topic again. What I really meant to talk to you about is a new use for your mana.” He says while sitting up straighter.
I copy him, also sitting up straighter. “What is it?”
“You have some type of mana manipulation skill, don’t you? You have progressed too fast with [Space Control] not to. Which is good, as you will have to learn this on the fly.” He points to the cave entrance, which has the shaman and its four hobgoblin guards leaving it, walking straight towards us.
I nod.
“Good. During your fight try to shove more mana into your muscles and bones and ‘burn’ it. It should boost your performance a little bit.”
I nod again and stand up as the goblins approach. What does that even mean? to 'burn it? I guess I will find out soon.
The shaman begins its inspection at the opposite end of the cages this time, starting at the one with the woman who passed away last night. It says a few screeching words while the gem glows, and the poles once again bend themselves out of the way. One of the hobgoblins makes some sounds at two small goblins passing by, and they drag the dead woman out of the cell and towards the cave entrance.
The shaman stops at Stella next, still lying down with a look of concentration on her face. She never notices the shaman looking her over, never opens her eyes. The goblin leader then skips right past Merrick, who is giving it his usual grin, and stops at my cell.
I stand up, ready for this thanks to my cell neighbor. The mana in my body is the highest it’s ever been, and it brings me a little bit of peace knowing that.
The goblin uses its magic to bend the poles out of the way, and thanks to [Mana Sense], I can finally feel what it’s doing.
The gem is sending an incredibly small pulse of mana to the poles, which are already filled with a different mana that activates and bends the poles upon receiving this signal. The mana in the poles was impossible for me to detect before it was activated.
The shaman gestures for me to follow her as she turns around and walks towards the cave. The hobgoblins look at me hungrily, and Merrick speaks before I make any stupid decisions.
“You should really just do what they want. They will treat you fairly, as they only want to kill you in a proper evolution ritual. So as long as you win that fight, you will live to fight again!”
Well, that's a small amount of comfort.
I take a deep breath and step out of my cell, immediately surrounded by hobgoblins with rusty weapons, two in front and two behind me. They guard me as I walk to the cave entrance, maybe fifteen feet behind the shaman.
As I enter the cave, I am hit by a much stronger stench of rotting and refuse coming from inside. I bring my hoodie up over my nose and find that I also smell like shit from my days of captivity, but slightly better shit.
My heart starts beating like a war drum as the reality of my situation finally dawns on me. These goblins have captured me like some sort of prize, just so they can kill me to get a little bit stronger?
Fuck that.
My anxiety slowly turns into rage as I look around me at the goblins, all smaller and weaker than myself. I will make it through this, whether I have to kill a dozen or a thousand goblins. I will not let them use me as some rung on a ladder to power. I will use them instead, I decide while marching toward my fight.
The cave is a dark tunnel, only lit up by a moss-looking plant that grows on the walls and ceilings in small patches. The light it gives off is fairly dim too. It makes me wonder if goblins are better at seeing in low-light conditions. They do seem nocturnal.
I am led past a few branching tunnels and rooms with goblins on their way out, both the small ones and hobgoblins. They always give me the same look, like they want to eat me. It makes my decision to not die to them that much easier. The rooms and tunnels are always just as dark as the main tunnel, but sometimes I spot piles of bones and animal skins on the floors.
After a few minutes of walking, the shaman turns into one of the rooms on the left side, and we follow it in. The room is a massive empty cavern, natural by the looks of it, but with magic, I have no idea. It is about forty feet to the ceiling and two hundred feet across in a rough dome shape. In the middle of the floor is a perfectly circular pit dug into the ground, about fifty feet across and eight deep. The walls are smooth and completely vertical.
The goblin shaman stops next to the pit and turns to me, pointing at me and then the pit. It screeches a few times when I don’t move.
This isn’t the time to back down. I would never be able to fight my way out, not yet at least.
I let out a sigh and climb down into the pit.