Making my way through the tunnel, the fight with the goblin was slowly replaying in my mind.
'Now that I think about it... the goblin was quite weak, wasn't it?'
I could still feel the pain near my knee – that would definitely leave a bruise.
However, considering I didn't even have trouble walking right now, it wasn't too bad.
Actually, if an average, grown adult hit me with the same club with similar momentum in real life, it wouldn't end with just a small bruise – I'd probably end up in the hospital.
I already realized my body became much tougher than before, but not by an absurd margin. Looking back at some of the guys I've seen at the gym, even the relative ease of handling this sword and carrying the backpack didn't seem anywhere near superhuman – maybe far above average, but not to an impossible degree.
However, one big difference lay in the way I handled the sword itself.
I never did any fencing or recreational roleplay – the closest I've ever gotten to swinging a sword was swinging sticks back when I was a small child.
Yet, for whatever reason, my body was now used to the motions, slashing and stabbing like it was a matter of course.
Come to think of it, despite the clear muscle memory, it was my own lack of familiarity that caused that swing to miss – a moment of delay, a slight hesitation, it was more than enough for the green creature.
Stopping for a moment, I tried to recall my previous stance, and my body had no trouble obeying.
Swing. Swing. Thrust. Swing.
The movements I've never even seen before felt vaguely familiar. Within a few dozen swings, I could approximately gauge the speed, reach and strength of each move, and the slight delay from the last fight gradually disappeared.
'Thrusting... Swinging...'
The fight replayed again in my mind. Thinking back about it, didn't it remind me of something?
As if responding to my thoughts, the translucent text appeared once again in my vision.
---
[Skills]:
[Charge Thrust] - Lv2 (73/100)
[Arc Slash] - Lv1 (14/100)
---
Could it be?..
But the moment I focused my mind on each of the skills, I instinctively understood that none of my previous flails with the sword were comparable to those skills.
Well, perhaps some of the core movements were similar – the indicator near those skills suggested they were something that could be trained, so perhaps what the body remembered was precisely that training.
'Actually, why didn't I try to use those skills?'
Perhaps due to the sudden shock of the whole situation, those skills, which I discovered beforehand, have completely slipped my mind.
'Hmm...'
The tunnel wasn't very wide, barely enough for the regular swings, so I wouldn't want to risk the sword hitting one of the stone walls. However...
I focused my mind on [Charge Thrust]. Unfamiliar knowledge filled my mind once again.
Taking off my backpack, I adjusted the grip on my sword. My leg muscles tensed, as I lowered my posture and prepared.
At first, it didn't feel much different than my previous swings, but gradually, a subtle feeling began to appear – for some reason, it felt as if the world itself would support me if I were to move my body and thrust my sword in just the right way.
[Charge Thrust] ~
For a moment, everything blurred. My legs launched me forward with unexpected momentum, as my arms stretched in a powerful forward motion.
In an instant, I covered a few meters of distance, thrusting my sword at... nothing.
The momentum caused me to tumble and fall to the ground, sliding another meter across the rough stone floor.
I had a feeling that if not for my armor, bracers and leg guards, I might have lost a few inches of skin just now. Going over the leather leg guards with my hand, I could tell their texture had become slightly more rugged.
I stood up, and made my way back to my backpack. As I started walking, I noticed the feeling of fatigue, and the pain in my muscles.
Judging by the toll [Charge Thrust] took on the body, I could probably perform it two, maybe three more times before I'd be out of commission.
Still, just familiarizing myself with it right now was worth it – there was no telling what lay ahead.
Just as I finished my thought, I noticed the tunnel ahead became slightly brighter.
Slowing down my pace, doing my best not to make a sound while stretching my senses to the extreme, I made my way forward.
***
Until now, the tunnel itself was sloped slightly upward. However, as I moved forward, the slope decreased, until it was completely flat.
Moreover, as I moved forward, the yellowish, subtly fluctuating light from up ahead became distinct.
It reminded me of the light of a candle. Or, a torch.
Still on high alert for any sound, I continued forward, step by step.
The curved tunnel continued on, until finally, I could see the source of the light.
In one of the tunnel walls, there was a large hole, just big enough for an adult to crouch through.
I noticed the lack of debris near the hole – it was probably not new.
The tunnel itself continued onward.
Getting closer to the hole, I could still hear no sound beyond my hushed footsteps.
However, one thing changed – as I approached the hole, a faint smell became more distinct. A rancid smell I was recently acquainted with.
I stopped, leaning against the wall right next to the opening. Carefully, I peeked through.
The hole itself was less than a meter deep. Through the hole I could see another tunnel, this time made of earth rather than stone.
However, unlike the last tunnel, this one had.. a wooden beam? Even more, this wooden beam, half-rotten and old, still had a rusty metal torch stake attached to it – with a burning torch placed in it.
Perhaps due to my newly increased awareness, I picked up on another detail – while everything else looked decrepit, the wooden base of the torch looked quite pristine, as if recently made. The wood itself had a slight crimson hue.
There was also one more detail, perhaps more important than the rest.
Gaping the bottom of the hole, which was slightly above the floor, was a hand. Its thin and crooked fingers were covered with dark green skin.
Very slowly, I crouched down and went through the hole, careful not to step on what awaited on the other side.
The shaft - I could now clearly see this was some kind of shaft, perhaps a mining one - was littered with goblin corpses. Counting, there were eight, including the one near the hole.
All of them wore rags similar to the one I found (or rather, was found by) earlier.
Most of their weapons were crude clubs, although there were a few rusty daggers, and on the floor near me, I could see a crude wooden bow and a couple of poorly fletched bone-tipped arrows, adorned by some dark-brown feathers I've never seen – although even if they came from a bird I've seen on Earth, I wouldn't be able to guess it by those feathers.
Still, I took a moment to look for every clue that would explain the creatures' fate. Whatever did this to them could come for me, and every bit of information would raise my chances of getting out of those damn caves alive.
There was clearly some kind of fight. One of the goblins was cut in half, its torso resting a few steps away from its legs, entrails scattered across the ground.
Another two goblins clearly had their skulls caved in by something blunt. One more goblin had its chest suffer the same fate.
Two goblins had small, precise wounds – one had its neck slit, the other had his heart stabbed from behind.
One more goblin had a large wound piercing its chest, somewhat similar to the one I myself inflicted on that green little shit not too long ago.
Finally, the goblin near the hole had a small, deep wound in the back of its chest, and the blood, which was no longer flowing, was pooled underneath.
Also, all of the goblins were missing their left ear, as if those were intentionally cut off.
'Looking at all the blood, some of it has already dried on the edges, but most of it is still liquid. I think somebody who knows how much time it takes for different volumes of blood to clot in different temperatures could probably tell how long ago this battle took place. That someone aint me, though.'
Still, the short investigation was not in vain.
On the one hand, while I could not determine the exact time, both the torch and the blood suggested the battle didn't happen too long ago.
'Perhaps that goblin from earlier is one who managed to flee in time.'
On the other hand, it was clear the goblins fought at least three opponents with different weapons and fighting styles.
'Of course, it could be some psycho who carries a big sword, a big hammer, and a dagger, and likes using all of them to kill goblins. But realistically, even if someone like that exists here, I don't think it's likely.'
Moreover, it also means the opponents were intelligent, and the torch suggested at least some of them could not see in the dark.
Yes, for now, I assumed goblins can see in the dark – I remembered glowing eyes, like those of cats, mean that an animal (or another type of creature) can see in the dark. Moreover, those goblins seemed intelligent enough to use tools, so if they really had trouble seeing in the dark, they'd probably be carrying some type of light source themselves, and so far, I haven't seen a single one.
The cut ears were also a sign of intelligence, although I couldn't guess whether this was some barbaric trophy collection or custom, or something with practical meaning.
Finally, unless there are much bigger and stronger goblins, at least two of the attackers were physically stronger than goblins – significantly so.
The main questions that remained were:
One – If there are goblins in this place, could there be other fantasy species, such as orcs?
If so, whoever killed those goblins are not necessarily humans, and could be equally hostile, and clearly much more dangerous.
Two – If the ones who killed those goblins were humans, then why are they here?
Since I knew nothing about where I am, humans could end up being even worse than goblins.
it seemed I wouldn't have to ponder those questions for long – at the far end of the shaft, I heard the faint sounds of hushed voices and footsteps.