"Form up! Perk up your ears, and if I see anyone yawning again, you'll get lashes before you even get close to becoming monster meat!"
Hobbs shouted over the wind, and Rayne felt the man beside him stiffen, shutting his mouth before anyone could catch his yawn.
All around him, men stood in a loose formation, with more stepping out of the tower to join them.
Half of them wore armor that looked like it had been hanging behind Kiyan's desk until yesterday, and he realized Axel hadn't been lying about the monster exodus being prime time for training greenhorns.
He even recognized a few people from his memories—forsakens like him.
Rayne had never talked to them. Actually, he didn't know anyone here other than Hobbs and had gotten no time to introduce himself to the others. Setting up his room had taken the majority of his day, and he'd slept soon after.
When he woke up, Hobbs had knocked on his door, telling him to get downstairs for the speech and briefing before the march.
"You think the rumors are true?"
He turned his head to look at the man to his right. Blonde, brown-eyed, and young—a regular face in the army. His sleepiness seemed to have vanished, and he seemed eager for conversation.
"What rumors?" Rayne asked.
"That we're going after the goblins that escaped after Randall's squad was annihilated in the raid," he replied. "Goblins are known to be perfect fodder for new recruits like us."
"I don't know about that. If they annihilated a whole squad, they aren't really fodder. And they have weapons."
Rayne almost wanted to say he was wrong about them only taking on goblins. They might be there, but their real target was trolls. And just a glimpse of them in his memory was enough to tell him they weren't newbie-friendly.
"My dad used to say even a five-year-old with a knife can kill," the man said.
"Well, goblins aren't much bigger than five-year-olds. Though, I reckon they're much uglier."
His remark earned a chuckle, and then footsteps drew their attention as Squad Leader Axel walked to the front, a sword strapped to his back. He looked far more focused than the state Rayne had seen him in last time, and just his presence quieted all whispers.
"If you haven't already guessed it, we're going on our first mission of this year's monster exodus in the Pascar Plains. We'll be scouting for troll trails—Just three days ago these very same trolls sided with the goblins, and massacred our fellow soldiers. Our main kills will be any goblin nests we come across and the trolls. There should be three of them, and for a squad of twenty-five—even with greenhorns filling it—we should be fine."
Rayne was surprised at how clearly Axel spoke, every word clean and sharp, as whispers broke out again.
"Silence! You bull-brained bastards," Hobbs shouted, and everyone quieted down.
Axel continued without missing a beat. "I know trolls aren't the easiest first-mission experience for all the greenhorns here, but they aren't the worst either. If luck's on your side, you'll be fighting level 5 goblins before even glimpsing a level 20 troll. Even with their high base stats, we'll be a squad and will take them on together to present their heads to Captain Edran. Just remember your training at the camp and stay in formation! Is that understood?"
"Yes!!"
Half the squad shouted, the other half joining in moments later.
"Remember—panic, and you die. Break rank, and everyone in your line bleeds. Run, and even if the trolls spare you, I won't."
Axel's eyes swept through the squad, lingering a few seconds on the forsakens, specifically on Rayne.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes!!"
With that, Axel ended the briefing and moved to talk to Hobbs. Rayne saw a few men—new recruits—sit on the ground holding their heads while others looked around anxiously. The veterans, by contrast, calmly checked their gear.
Rayne didn't bother. He only had a sword, a shield, and a canteen. Forsaken weren't allowed potions or rations and had to rely on their Squad Leader's mercy.
Though, he hoped that by the end of the day, he'd have earned something. Even forsakens were allowed their slain loot. Goblin parts didn't fetch much, but a few silvers beat nothing. If he survived, that is.
"I didn't expect that." The voice beside him turned Rayne's attention back to the blonde. "How strong do you think the trolls will be? As ugly as goblins?"
"Not as ugly," Rayne replied, sifting through recent memories. The goblin raid and subsequent troll ambush remained particularly vivid. "More like an old, crooked man—but give him a nine-foot, regenerating green body. That's a troll. As for levels, around 20 like Axel said. But who knows. I've never faced one."
"You sure seem to know what they look like," he replied. "By the way, name's Kesh. Level 9 soldier. Arrived a week ago from the West Training Camp."
Kesh placed a hand on his chest in the Valerian salute, waiting for Rayne's response. He knew what he was waiting for. An introduction.
He wasn't sure whether he should give one. But he doubted he could hide it forever.
"Rayne Frayser. Level 7 Soldier. A forsaken."
Kesh's eyes widened, and Rayne braced for a scowl.
"That's why you know what trolls look like," Kesh said, surprising him. "You're the Gravewalker."
"Huh... Grave what?"
Before Rayne could ask further, a horn blast echoed.
The signal to march.
***
Rayne removed another bead of sweat from his face and felt his boots crunch dried roots and fallen leaves as they marched. The sun was hot in the sky, but it wasn't as bad.
Summer was long past, but his armour weighed down on him.
It wasn't as terrible as when he had woken up a few days back. He had gotten used to it. But the constant weight on his shoulders and the long march of over two hours to the west of the Pascar plains had tired him out.
Even the soul that occupied his body had troubles with the armour. And he only hoped that some level ups and stat points would ease the burden going forward.
Rayne took another sip of his canteen and Kesh slipped a hand on his shoulder.
"That's the third time you have drank it in the last half an hour. I expected a gravewalker to be tougher," he said, grinning.
"Yeah well, that title doesn't give me the limitless energy or the foul breath of a real gravewalker. I actually had to die for that,'' he replied, still trying to come to terms with his ominous nickname.
It sounded cool, but he had simply gotten it because enough soldiers had seen him coming back from among the dead, giving him the moniker of one who walked away from his grave. Rayne had no idea if it was positive or not, but at least no one had started accusing him of being a shapeshifter.
"Survive a year and you might actually get some perks from that nickname," An older soldier named Ardan said from beside him.
He was level 23, one of the veterans in the squad and had been with Axel for two years now. Ardan had struck around with him and Kesh since the march and had a casual air around him.
Rayne guessed that either Axel or Hobbs had sent him here to better assimilate Rayne and Kesh in the squad. The man was friendly enough, he would admit, and hadn't hinted of animosity with his family name.
"How does that work?" Rayne asked and Ardan was happy to go on a rant.
"The gods watch and listen to everything and sometimes when a nickname starts to get used by enough people, they grant it to you officially. I knew a man who was called slow stride because he was always slow during march and during a status check, he found a title that gave him additional Endurance if he's walking slow."
"I wonder how that helps," Kesh said. "Maybe I should get people to call me a dragon slayer. Do you think I will get that title?"
Both Rayne and Ardan chuckled.
"If you slay a dragon that is. The gods aren't foolish, greenhorn," Ardan replied.
"I bet you could gain "The Fool" title if you keep up with those questions though,'' Rayne said and before Kesh could begin a counter, they saw the marching slowly come to a halt.
Rayne watched up ahead and felt a tension grip the camp. It didn't take long for them to realise what was going on as whispers travelled to them. They had found a goblin nest on the side of a small hill.
For two hours, they hadn't seen any signs of trolls, but goblin nests meant they were near. Goblins and trolls were monsters of the same kind, the latter were tough brawlers while the former were known to have the intelligence of a five year old. Both of them were known to work together as evidenced by the massacre at the goblin raid.
"Let's go," Ardan said, pointing at the head of the squad and before Rayne and Kesh could say anything, he dragged them up front.
Hobbs stood there and Rayne saw Axel on the side, sitting casually under a tree.
When the deputy saw them coming, he smiled. "You are here. Form a line. Shields up. Lukara had decided to be kind to you all by giving you easy experience."
Rayne could see what the man was referring to. "The new recruits are going to take them on."
"Yes, Rayne,'' Hobbs said. "It's perfect for some warm up. Goblins seldom surprise and if you all stay in formation and don't try to be a hero, then a level or two would be good before we find the trolls."
He wanted to say that they had surprised them last time, but held his mouth.
They moved to grow into formation, all the new recruits snapping into position, shields locked together in a semi circle in front of the nest on the side of the hill. It was a gaping hole, darkness permeating from inside.
As two men moved to smoke the nest with dry twigs and pieces of wood, the excitement in his heart grew. This was his first battle in this world. Rayne wasn't fond of fighting, but things were vastly different when killing meant levelling up and getting stronger.
There were numbers to gain here and the only thing he had to do was to swing a sword and not die.
He saw the stuffing lit up, smoke pouring inside the nest. He felt Kesh next to him stiffened.
"Holy Henrexa, please bless us and keep us alive,'' he muttered, quietly chanting a prayer.
"You will be fine," Rayne said for assurance.
"You don't know that. We might just—"
He never got to finish his sentence as the sound of claws scratching and guttural howls ripped through the air. And the next second, a goblin burst out of the nest.
It was a four feet, grey skinned, ugly monster with a bald head and an annoying voice. Alone, it looked easy to handle, but more of its kind kept jumping out of the nest. Some of them held weapons—Daggers, swords, spears.
The formation tightened.
The goblins rushed at them with a loping run, banging their bodies straight into the shields. Despite their small sizes, a few men stepped backwards. Claws scratched at his shield and Rayne replied with a downward swing of his sword through the gap at the side.
His sword cut the ear of the goblin as it shrieked, jumping to hop over his shield. But he slammed it in its body, sending it sprawling on the ground.
Notifications flared up at the back of his mind and a cooling sensation gripped his soul. He smiled, but largely ignored it as more goblins pushed their body weight against the shields. Where the men lost their footing, Rayne saw arrows lodged into the goblin's skull, giving the man ample time to get back into formation.
He'd no time to notice anyone else for long as goblin daggers clashed with his shield, but he held on. The levels in his sword mastery helped as his sword moved instinctively even if he'd never held one before.
He drove it in a goblin's rib, green ichor oozing out as it fell on the ground and crushed by their feet. Another held an old, rusty spear and slammed it on his shield, pushing him back, but he held.
Kesh swung his own sword at it, snapping the spear in half and Rayne finished it with his blade entering its neck with a crunch. More ichor showered over them and he groaned, disgusted.
"Don't let them push you back men!! Show them the power of your stats!" roared Hobbs from the back.
They kept up at it, more goblin guttural screams echoing through the sparse forest as they kept coming from the nest.
Despite the press of the man around him, Rayne didn't slow down. Every swing of his sword oozed blood from the goblins, the vivid memories of the battlefield he had woken up passing by his mind.
A scream took his focus away from a goblin he had stabbed in the chest and he saw Kesh slip over the blood. He dropped his shield and looked in horror as a goblin rushed towards him.
Rayne moved, ignoring a spear coming at its shoulder and kicked the goblin away and swung his sword at another. Pain flooded him as the tip of the spear pierced through his armour to find flesh.
He managed to yank it away with his shield.
"T-thank you, Rayne," Kesh managed to let out and got on his feet, taking his position once again.
Rayne nodded and dug his heels deeper into the bloodied ground. More goblins kept coming at them as if the whole nest followed one reckless instinct to kill all humans, but they didn't back down.
Minutes felt like hours as they fought and fought, and finally, he saw no more goblins jumping out of their nest. To his left, a soldier finished the last of them.
A collective cheer erupted out of the camp at the victory and Rayne slumped on the floor, not caring about the blood around him. He was exhausted with pain flaring through his soldiers.
"Thank you for saving my life," Kesh said, looking as exhausted as him.
"Save mine next time and we are even," he said, talking through rasped breaths.
"Deal."
They shared a smile, but the rest was short-lived.
Hobbs' voice came out loud. "Five minutes rest and we will move. You all should have one potion on yourself. Drink a quarter of it for any injuries!"
Rayne groaned, glancing at his shoulder. Blood dripped down from it and he had no healing potions. He swept away goblin blood and sweat from his forehead and looked down at his pants and moved to tore away fabric to bind the wound.
Kesh took out his healing potion just then. "Take it. Five sips and it should be enough to start closing your wound."
"You sure?" Rayne asked and the man nodded.
He grabbed the swirling blue liquid bottle and slowly took five sips out of it. The potion tasted odd at his tongue like extremely sour medicine, but he gulped it down. Energy suddenly washed over his insides as the drops reached his stomach.
He'd never felt such a sensation before and realised what it was. The feeling of mana entering his body. He already felt his shoulder stinging less.
"Thanks."
He gave back the bottle and Kesh smiled. Both of them didn't say anything, giving their body as much rest as possible. But it was truly short lived.
"Get up! We need to start moving, you lazy bastards. Goblins can't tire you out so much." Hobbs' voice made men groan around him, but no one complained.
All of them got up and the squad started getting in a loose formation as before with the veterans leading the charge. Rayne and Kesh stayed in the back. Their steps were slower, but they kept up.
Ardan joined them after a few minutes. "You two did good. Next time, try not to slip."
Kesh nodded at the obvious advice and they broke up in a conversation. But Rayne wasn't listening.
His focus turned to the slight itching sensation at the back of his mind, urging him to look at it. And without hesitation, he brought forth his status screen.
The strain almost made him stagger, but he managed to keep his balance.
Notifications flared up in front of him.
You have slain Goblins x 7.
You have gained adequate experience.
You have levelled up. Level 9 reached.
+4 points gained in Strength. +4 points gained in Endurance. +4 points gained in Agility.
Rayne smiled. Every level in the soldier class gave one stat point in the above stats and his title basically doubled the gain, but that wasn't the end.
Skill Stealer Activated.
+1 point in Vitality.
You have stolen the skill Goblin Tongue (Basic). The skill had been registered as a new skill.
An additional stat point and a new skill!
Rayne had hoped for the former, but the latter was surprising since the chances of it happening were so low.
He hadn't thought that goblins had their own language. Their guttural throat noises all sounded like gibberish to him, but before he could open up a description about him, a shout from the front took his attention.
"We have found troll tracks!"