(A/N: This is a SFW version of the novel, for the NSFW one please go to my patreon page, link on my bio)
Not far from that sickening scene sat a presence.
Same sickly green skin, but bigger in size, with a more intelligent gaze than its kin.
#######
Some of the scrawny goblins nearby quickly dragged her away, eager to continue using her even in death.
That big presence, scarred deeply on its body, face, and chest, now grumpily spoke.
It didn't actually speak words, but just uttered sounds, primitive grunts and hisses that signified its dominance.
#######
They kowtowed to the scarred leader, their bodies trembling with fear, then scattered away.
They seemed to be ordered to look for more prey, their eyes glinting with hungry anticipation.
Back to Lyssandra, she was still wandering around the maze.
Up and down, left and right, she dove deep into every corner, trying to find a way out but finding no use.
She even tried to use her sharp lance to mark symbols on the way, but the stone wall, floor, and roof were too hard.
With her current strength, she couldn't make a dent.
"How about the fireball?" she thought.
It left a burned mark before, but she had three uses left.
She had already bought a small mana potion as a backup plan in case something went wrong.
"30% MP recovery was not a joke; enough for another fireball."
Suddenly, from afar, a noisy sound attracted Lyssandra's attention.
Her ears perked up, and she quickly hid around the cross-section, her heart hammering against her ribs.
It seemed like the sound was coming from behind her.
She slowly peeked her head out, her eyes narrowing.
There she saw them: a group of four sickly green creatures yelling unintelligible sounds.
Their hands, which clutched primitive weapons like wooden spears, wooden swords, and wooden bucklers, were flailing around like crazy.
"Goblin?" she looked at the Scan skill result.
Goblin
Size: Small, short, often scrawny.
Strength: Weak individually.
Intelligence: Low to moderate (cunning but not strategic).
Behavior: Chaotic, cowardly, relies on numbers and ambush.
Combat Style: Swarming, hit-and-run, traps.
Society: Disorganized tribes, often follow stronger leaders.
Threat Level: Low (dangerous in groups).
They were mocking each other, dancing around the twisted shapes of their weapons.
Lyssandra held her breath, her hand gripping her own lance.
"Four of them," she calculated.
"If I strike fast, I can save my mana. Or I can just burn them all."
Then she decided not to recklessly do anything yet, not until she could see what they could do.
She silently followed and observed them from behind, hugging the shadows of the corridor.
Even from that distance, she could still hear them, so there was no worry that she would lose their track.
After 15 minutes of trailing those monsters, something happened.
The goblins encountered a slime.
She scanned the blue entity immediately.
Name: Water Slime
Species: Slime
Description: A translucent, fluid slime composed entirely of pressurized water. Its body flows smoothly, constantly shifting like a contained current. At its center lies a clear, pulsating core that regulates internal pressure and stability.
Abilities:
High-Pressure Jet……
Suddenly, one of the goblins screeched an ear-splitting sound.
It threw the wooden spear it was holding at the slime, the tip aimed clumsily at the shifting mass.
But the slime didn't waver.
It quickly released a water jet that was so fast it snapped the spear in two pieces mid-air.
The high-pressure stream hit the side of the spear-throwing goblin, cutting away a small slab of meat from its leg, bone exposed in the spray.
That goblin fell down, clutching its bleeding leg and screaming in pain.
It would be true to say that the slime was gaining the upper hand.
But then, behind it, two of the goblins sneaked up, aiming to stab at the slime from the rear.
They were creatures of low intelligence, and they didn't even aim properly at the monster's core.
They missed it by a mile, their wooden swords sinking into harmless water.
The slime jerked away, fluid twisting on the spot.
Quickly, it divided into a total of three small slimes.
Each one morphed to make a kind of phallus atop of their head, a strange, violent transformation.
Then they quickly used the High-Pressure Jet skill.
Three lines of stone-cutting water streams crossed the air, aiming at those three goblins.
But with their small and agile bodies, the goblins were able to dodge those streams with ease.
By splitting into smaller slimes, their own stats were reduced by triple, weakening the pressure of the jets significantly.
Realizing that the situation was no longer in their favor, the water slimes quickly merged back into one.
It rolled away, evading the chaotic scurry of the goblins.
The three goblins, of course, tried to chase the runaway slime.
But while running, the slime sprayed a lot of water on the floor and at them.
Everything became slippery, a slick, watery mess.
The goblins struggled to stand up, slipping back on their feet.
Finally, they gave up on chasing the water slime, panting and frustrated.
Then they looked back at the injured goblin.
It was trying to crawl away, dragging its maimed leg.
"Weird, why didn't it go back to its friends?" Lyssandra wondered.
And there it was, her answer.
The three uninjured goblins quickly caught up to the injured one.
One goblin had a crazy grin on its face, its hand holding a blunt wooden sword.
The other two uninjured goblins stood on two sides, holding the legs and the hands of the downed one, pinning it tight.
Then, with a brutal, no, with *many* brutal slashes and chops, the limbs of the injured goblin were severed.
Sickening cracking sounds of broken bones echoed through the air.
The sound of horror screaming reverberated in the dark hallway as the goblin's friends began gnawing its limbs, tearing at the fresh meat.
Finally, after a short time later, the screaming of the dying goblin subsided.
Only the crunching and chewing sound of bone and meat was left.
The three goblins finished eating, their mouths stained with gore.
They stood up and continued walking down the stone maze like nothing happened.
It was just a normal activity for them, a matter-of-fact routine of survival and predation.
Lyssandra stood there, her eyes half-closed, her expression hardening.
She felt……nothing.
"Not even just a little disgusting? What is going on? What am I?" she wondered.
She raised her hands. They didn't shake. Her breath didn't even ragged.
"Something is very wrong with me," she murmured.
She took a glance at the system screen, the blue interface shimmering in her vision.
"Perhaps the answer is lying inside this screen. I have to get stronger."
Then she took some steps closer, dipping her finger into the bloody puddle of the dead goblin.
Without hesitation, she licked it.
But after a few moments, nothing happened. The Absorption skill didn't activate.
"Why? Didn't I take a sample of the target?" she grumbled.
Clicking on the skill description, another line showed up under it:
Skill: Absorption
Source: Innate
Description: Consume a fragment of a target to mimic their form and claim their power. The target must be killed by the host.
Price: None.
Her eyes widened slightly.
"Killed by the host," she repeated softly.
"I didn't kill it myself."
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