Pwch pwch pwch pwch pwxb wpacg phhwb wquesh pwhxu
Nine near-peak humanl level punches landed—nine consecutive punches that would be enough to seriously wound a normal person all slammed into the face of the overpowered, green, crayon-colored monster in front of Veil.
The pain in Veil's hand was immense. He had landed nine back-to-back punches of his strongest strikes, which would usually not even be possible. He had no idea why he had thrown his weapon aside and just started punching—he just did.
Veil's hand had begun to turn purple, and blood flowed down his fingers and knuckles, splashing onto the ground.
"I must not die. I cannot. I'd be a failure to myself if I did. You know, I miss my old life, but that's because of attachments…"
Veil spoke these words, but even as he tried to hold his composure, tears dripped from his eyes.
"…But from what I know, new attachments can be made. Letting go may not be possible, but moving forward is. So let me ask you, goblin—your name is Xerovock, right? Do you have the balls to kill me?"
"I will prove my father right… just this once,"
he muttered, his voice cracking under the weight of both physical and emotional exhaustion.
Before Veil could even stop to think about the words he was going to say clearly, they just roared out of his mouth.
Veil was sent flying back, crashing into a wall at the back of the cave—in the part where the shadows had once kept him safe. Now, he was bleeding out once more.
[Health: 21/120]
Detected: Host is in critical condition and has many status effects, such as bleeding, stabbing, despair.
Mana: 162/340
Recommendation: Beg for your life, you worthless piece of shit, and maybe he will spare you as a subordinate.
A/N: His mana will regenerate.
"If you're not going to be helpful, then piss off."
Veil picked himself up, ready to fight with his life on the line.
"Hey, system, just a question—how much mana do I have left?"
[Detected: Host has 165 mana points left.]
"Hey, you—yeah, you, the big green oaf. You sure have been quiet lately. Why? You scared of facing me?"
Hahhah! Ahhhigahh!
A bellowed laugh spread across the cave as Xerovock stepped toward Veil, every step shaking the ground.
"You know, human, you sure are interesting. Your emotions—but you, in particular, are truly interesting. No, especially interesting. You go from tired to alone to bored to angry. Now you're scared, yet each time, these emotions fuel your fire, your desire to fight me."
A smile was plastered onto the green goblin's face as his laughter continued, even as he stepped forward to end the life of a bleeding sin.
"Hey, Goblin Chief Xerovock—do you know what happened on July 16th, 1945?" Veil said, breathing in and out with the same difficulty straight men have resisting women.
"Don't speak in random gibberish now, human. Let me finish you off with honor. After all, you were the first of my opponents in a long time to actually inflict substantial—to a degree—damage on me."
Xerocock was speaking with nothing but the pride of a warrior.
"Obviously, an idiot like you didn't take history class, and even if you did, the odds of you passing are incredibly low. As anyone with a functioning brain knows, that was the day the great country of America made the first nuclear weapon ever. All I'm going to say is… boom boom, motherfucker."
Veil spoke these words as softly as he could, almost not caring if the goblin had heard him or not—but he knew it would listen.
"Don't start speaking nonsense, human! Your reign of terror is over! You came into this cave, attacked my clan, took out my guards, and forced the shaman to ritual-summon that anomaly currently behind me!"
Xerovock practically roared, his voice almost quaking.
After a beat, Xerovock continued:
"The reason I enjoy fighting you is simple—a warrior's honor reflects the tribe's honor. Even though you killed them with a bunch of cunning tricks, killed them using your shaman tricks, and hid away, it is my job as the chief—no, my tribe's last warrior—to stand up against you, or my name isn't Xerovock of the Wolfeighner tribe!"
Xerovock showed both pride and pain in his expression after shouting out his honest heart. The pride of a warrior and the pain of a leader.
"Oh, please—how many did I really kill? Seven? Maybe ten? Let's be honest and truthful here, Xerovock. After all, one of us is going to die soon. Most of them actually died to you and your shaman buddy to create that monstrous abomination behind you. So don't go on lying and badmouthing my fucking name, and don't put all your mistakes and problems on me."
"W-Why, you—who do you think you are?! I'm Xerovock of a thousand goblins, the greatest warrior and tribe leader this tribe has ever had in the past four generations! Who do you think you are, insinuating I betrayed my own fucking tribe?"
Xerovock was practically screaming at the top of his lungs in both anger and desperation. After all, if word got out that he and the shaman had sacrificed their own tribe, even if they solved this situation, they might never join another clan or tribe.
"You, Xerovock? I'm not insinuating—no, I'm simply stating a fact, which I personally witnessed: you and the shaman sacrificed your own clan just to summon some giant freak."
Veil, however, neither cared for nor knew the reason Xerovock was yelling. He just knew that Xerovock would face a punch fueled with all his mana.
All the mana in Veil's body gathered into his hand. It started to burn him. He swung his fist back, and he didn't use raw physical strength or a technique that took him years to learn—no, he simply manipulated mana like he had been previously taught by a certain helpful servant of his and threw it out, slamming it into Xerovock's thick, ab-filled stomach.