Andy in the Apocalypse [LitRPG System Apocalypse] 2.8 Goblin Onslaught

8 – Goblin Onslaught

“Sounds like a plan,” Omar said, nodding.

“It seems like it’ll be really dangerous for Andy, though,” Madi said, glancing to Bree for support.

The other woman nodded, pushing so sandy-blonde hair back behind her ear as she looked at the drawing Andy had made in the dirt. “You think there are more than a hundred goblins?”

“Yeah.”

“And how many hobgoblins?”

“I counted nine—plus the, uh, Boss.”

“I don’t get why we don’t just go after that emissary,” Madi said. “It seems like—”

“Because this camp is growing, and it’s a threat to our community and others,” Omar interrupted.

“And that won’t change, no matter what we find out about the emissary,” Andy agreed.

Bree nodded. “I can’t argue with them, Madi. We’re here now. We might as well deal with the goblins before we hunt down the other monster. Besides, you saw what the quest said: find out what he gave to the Goblin Boss. I’d say that’s step one.”

“So,” Omar said, turning to Andy. “You’ll keep your main class active for this, right?”

“Yeah. I think we’ll need it against a horde.”

“A horde with a bunch of gigantic goblins!” Madi said, glancing to the left, down past the foothills toward where the sa sat, lost in the distance. That unconscious glance toward ho reminded Andy, more than any of her words, that she was just a kid, and the biggest fight she’d ever been in had been earlier that day. Was she ready to face a camp full of goblins?

“Those hobgoblins aren’t as bad as the blitz-rats we fought in the dungeon,” Omar said, “and we fought a hell of a lot more than nine.”

“Well, you had Lucy and Bea and Bella. Now you’ve got us,” Madi said, glancing guiltily at Bree. “No offense.”

“None taken. I know I’m nothing with this bow like Lucy is with hers.”

Andy shook his head. “We’ve got this. The plan keeps you guys relatively safe; I’ll be down in the ravine. Omar will be here with you two. If things go sideways, I’m sure you can all outrun the goblins.”

“And you?” Bree asked.

Andy smiled. “Don’t worry about .” With that he thumped his spear and nodded toward the faint glow of the goblin cook-fires. “Ready?”

Omar spoke for the others. “Yeah. We’ll give you ten minutes to get into place and then Bree will start shooting.”

“Speaking of,” Bree said, shifting her single quiver on her shoulder. “Load up.”

“Right.” Andy reached into his magical ring and pulled out two full quivers, passing them over to her. “Hopefully, this will get you and Cheechee so good experience, too.”

Omar nudged Madi’s shoulder. “All of us.”

“Wait!” Madi cried, though she caught herself and lowered her voice to a hiss. “Andy put this on your spear-blade.” She reached under her armored coat to so inner pocket and drew out a small tin lip-balm container.

Andy took it, raising an eyebrow. “Lip balm?”

She snorted, shaking her head. “That’s just the base. I made a poison from that cactus thing! I think I’ll get experience if you use it in your fights.”

“Hell yeah!” Andy unscrewed the top and, with his leather combat gloves, scooped up a big dollop of the green-tinted, oily paste. Then he sared it all over his spear-blade. To his amazent, it didn’t just sit there; it sparkled with a faint green mana shimr and seed to sink into the tal.

***Blood Boil tincture applied! Your spear will now apply the Blood Boil poison to susceptible enemies. This is a high-quality tincture and will last for many strikes.***

Andy grinned at Madi. “Blood Boil? Sounds nasty.”

“I hope it helps!”

Andy hefted his spear, nodding. He didn’t want to say that his Balefire Lance spell would probably make it hard for her poison to do much of anything; he was just happy that she was trying to help. As he handed the tin back to her, he said, “Be sure to put this on your spear and give so to Omar for his mace.”

“If you have enough, I could put so on my arrows!” Bree added.

“Now you’re talking,” Andy said, stepping toward the sloping hillside. “I’ll get into position.”

Omar clapped him on the shoulder as he walked by. “Good luck.”

“You too.” With that, he broke into a jog, and when he rounded the hill’s shoulder, he cast Deepsmoke Shroud and Fla Sight. He wasn’t sure how many mana points he regained per minute nowadays, but it was definitely more than when he’d tested it back in the early days of the apocalypse. It was noticeable enough for him to believe it had to do with a lot more than just his Will attribute. He figured it involved his current class, his current level in that class, and maybe so other hidden factors, like the size of his mana pool.

Whatever the case, even with his vision and stealth spells active, his regen was almost enough to hold steady, though he lost a point every half-minute or so. Still, with his mana pool approaching 700, that ant he could keep them going for a long ti outside of combat and additional spell-casting.

He loped down the hillside, his ground-devouring steps sliding here and there on loose scree; he wasn’t trying to be quiet, but his spell muffled his passage anyway. When he reached the bottom, he worked his way to the ravine, found a nice open stretch that gave him a clear view of the goblin camp up on the roadway, and then he waited. Bree was going to bring the action to him.

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As an exercise in concentration and to test his Perception, Andy controlled his breathing and focused, trying to hear every sound around him. He wanted to see if he could pick up the sound of Bree’s first arrow. The night was quiet nearby; all the wildlife had long-since fled the goblins and their sporadic patrols. Still, those sa goblins were nowhere near ready to wind down. Laughter, shouts, and even roars from the occasionally irritated hob echoed up and down the once-busy highway.

Andy thought about that—how the highway might never see an automobile again. He wasn’t sure, of course. So of the more chanically inclined folks back at the settlent had talked about diesel engines and how they might be able to operate despite the strange drain mana had on violent combustions. Then there were those—like Jas—who wanted to try to devise a way to empower engines with mana. Andy figured there was probably a way. Hadn’t the Lurikeens built a ship that flew via magic?

His distracted thoughts almost kept him from noticing the hiss of an arrow’s flight, but he caught it and got ready. The arrow hit sothing solid up on the roadway, and when there wasn’t any sort of outcry, Andy figured Bree had missed her target. Another hiss told him she was trying again, and this ti a goblin screeched.

Andy smiled as the cry was taken up and more and more of the goblins began to yamr and scream. Torches danced in the darkness—bright, amber flares in Andy’s enhanced vision—and he watched as the little figures carrying them began to amass, gesticulating and pointing toward the hillside behind Andy. Another goblin cried out, collapsing, and Andy silently congratulated Bree on a well-placed shot.

He glanced over his shoulder to see if he could spot Omar and the others, but the hillside was too thick with scrub, boulders, and sharp angles. Still, he was sure the goblins saw them; they were pointing and jumping as their numbers continued to mount. Surprisingly, only one hob lumbered into view with the swarm of little goblins. Were the rest going to hang back? Were they too drunk or too uncaring to join the hunt?

After several more goblins fell to Bree’s arrows, the hob must have decided their numbers were enough, and he roared, shoving and kicking at the little monsters to get them moving. Andy readied himself. The little creatures charged, haphazardly at first, but then with more and more montum. They stread down the berm, over the gravel and scrub brush, charging in a wave of runty, angry monsters toward the ravine—toward Andy.

He couldn’t accurately count them; not as they surged and ran, stumbled and rolled. Even so, he was sure there were more than fifty—maybe close to a hundred, which would be the bulk of the encampnt. The hob lumbered along behind them, a beat-up STOP sign in his hands, held high like a battleaxe.

Andy had told Bree and the others to set up on the slope of the ravine; he wanted the most direct route to them to be past his staging point. So far, it looked like it was working. A small sea of yamring goblins was pouring over the ground toward him, a V shape of little monsters rolling into his trap. He just wished the front line wasn’t so far ahead of the bulk of the pack. If he wanted to wreak the most havoc with his magic, he’d have to fight with just his spear for a few seconds.

Andy braced himself, still wrapped in the shifting, shadowy smoke of his concealnt spell, and when the first, fastest goblin ca into range, he drove his spear through its chest. It was an instantly fatal blow, but the magic in Andy’s spear didn’t know that. Black caustic fire poured into the wound, and the little goblin’s body burst into flas.

If the goblins had been yelling before, their tone rose to a shrieking crescendo as he suddenly materialized. The hob bellowed a roar that reverberated through Andy’s bones. He grinned and stabbed the next goblin—and the next, and the next. By then, the bulk of the horde had closed in on him, and he was already backpedaling. Judging the mont right, he inhaled and channeled his mana into a Cinderstorm Blast.

The convulsive exhalation felt almost like a sneeze, but longer and, strangely, more satisfying. Black smoke poured from his mouth, rapidly expanding into a cone-shaped cloud. Within the roiling smoke, blazing embers danced, and though it didn’t bother him, Andy felt the ambient temperature around him skyrocket.

The goblins’ shouts and yells rose in octaves as the blistering hot air engulfed them. Andy drove forward into the cloud, and his vision clarified—at least as far as fighting was concerned. In his magical smoke, colors and fine details faded, but he saw the outlines of his foes with perfect clarity; it was almost like stepping into an abstract world where the screams, scents, and sights of battle faded. In all honestly, he knew it would trouble him if he thought about it too much; dancing through his screaming, flailing foes, stabbing left and right and center, was all too easy.

He lost track of the number of goblins he killed—not only with his spear but simply from the effects of his Cinderstorm Blast. The hob didn’t die imdiately, even though the fiery smoke reached him. He was resilient enough to resist immolation and turned to run, bellowing for help—Andy assud—from the rest of the goblin camp.

Andy had planned this fight out; he’d figured he’d attack until his smoke wore off, and then cast the spell again; he had enough mana for several. In the end, though, the goblins he didn’t kill inside his initial cloud scattered, fleeing in every direction. So died as they ran—too badly burned by the Cinderstorm to make it far. Dozens escaped, and maybe half of those ran back to the camp while the others ran screaming into the night, fleeing down the road or up into the opposite hills.

Five or ten minutes later, when Andy stood over his smoldering, corpse-filled battlefield, heaving for breath, scanning the roadway for further threats, he heard the approach of his companions, sliding down the scree-covered ravine walls, talking in low voices.

“…was all from Andy? Oh, gosh! It slls!” Madi huffed breathlessly.

“That’s what a battlefield slls like, kiddo,” Omar replied. “Andy!” he hissed. “We good to co down?”

Andy turned and nodded. “I think the rest of the goblins are gathered near the Boss’s tent. Did any of you get a System ssage?”

“Not yet,” Bree replied, pausing to tie a bandanna around her face.

“Do you have another one of those?” Madi asked, holding her sleeve to her nose as she looked around the scores of goblin corpses, wide-eyed.

Bree shook her head, but Omar handed the girl a bandanna, nodding. “I don’t need it.”

“If the System’s not awarding experience, it ans—”

Andy’s words were cut short by the boom of a massive drum, then another and another joined in. It seed the remnants of the goblin camp weren’t going to wait for them. The fight was still on. Andy whirled, scanning the hillside nearby. “Bree, get up on that boulder. Madi, put your back to it. Omar, you and —we’ll stand shoulder-to-shoulder in front of her.”

“I’m good on arrows. Soone give a boost!” Bree said, running toward the rocky outcropping.

“How many more?” Madie asked, hurrying to follow Andy’s instructions.

“Maybe twenty goblins, the hobs, and the Boss.” Andy frowned, picturing the enormous, fat leader of a goblin camp. “I’m afraid he might be a caster. Yeah, on second thought, Omar. I’m going to try to take him out. Can you hold off the rest for a minute?”

“If you can throw down so of your smoke…”

Andy nodded. “Not a problem.” While they’d been getting set, the drumbeats had increased in tempo, and the first of the hobs ca into view, his improvised STOP-sign axe dancing above a stack of boxes as he ran.

Andy hastily cast Deepsmoke Shroud and darted away to the side, putting so space between himself and the others. Even if he didn’t see the Boss, he’d hit the goblin forces from the rear. He felt confident, especially after the way he’d routed the bulk of the goblin horde, but as he set up amid so greasewoods off to the side, he heard a guttural chant echoing through the canyon—a voice deeper and louder than even the bellowing hobs—and he felt the tingle of mana in the air. Looking up, he saw dark clouds drifting unnaturally over the canyon, blotting out the starlight.

Suddenly, Andy’s confidence was tainted by dread, and he gripped his spear tightly, glancing nervously toward his three companions. He still wasn’t too worried about himself, but Bree and Madi and even Omar seed far frailer under the gloom of those clouds and in the thunder of the hobgoblins’ war drums. Had he just sealed their fate?