Ichor Cell-Chapter 48: First Mission II

The journey to the inn was quick, and although the sky was still dark, dawn was not far away.
The wait for night to come again was not quick at all.
Alex once again found himself thinking that he would much rather fight a fifteen-foot tall, wood manipulating, regenerating monster spider than spend an entire day locked in his room with nothing to do. He paced, lay on the bed, stood up, sat down again, contemplated punching the wall, and spent far too long thinking about the hazard suit he couldn’t afford, reaffirming his need to acquire it.
Grenil at least had the luxury of the body’s natural propensity to be unconscious for eight hours a day, while the rest of his time could be spent out in the city. Alex on the other hand didn’t sleep much anymore, which meant the hours stretched on into eternity.
By the time night finally returned, he nearly burst out of the inn the moment it became safe. Grenil and Duran followed behind him, Grenil carrying a woven basket under one arm—something he’d bought while Alex and Duran were stuck inside. It was meant for collecting herbs without crushing them, which Alex completely forgot to consider.
The three made their way toward the gate in silence; Alex was appreciating the ability to go outside all the more with every day, and the other two were also thinking about something.
There was no fee to leave the city, so the guards waved them through without fuss.
The moment Alex stepped beyond the wall and felt the night air on his skin, something clicked unpleasantly in the back of his mind.
“Right,” he muttered. “We really need to find another inn.”
Grenil glanced at him. “Why?”
“Because it’s overpriced as hell.” Alex said. “We took it on our first night because we got in so late, so our options were limited, but now you can go out during the day and find us something better. I do not want to be paying two silver per night for a pair of tiny, cramped rooms.”
Grenil grimaced a little, and even Duran made a soft noise of agreement.
“Good to see we’re in agreement.” Alex exhaled through his nose, rolling his shoulders. “Then it’s time to collect some plants.”
The road out of Luterra was familiar for only a short while before they veered off onto a narrow dirt path that cut away from the one they used to enter the city. Soon the ground turned rough, the undergrowth thickened, and the silhouette of Westwood Grove rose ahead. The road wound between patches of tall grass and uneven shrubs, growing thinner with every step.
They stepped beneath the first branches, the forest canopy swallowing the last of the sunsets fading light. For a few minutes at least, there was still enough light in the world for the duskmint to give off a faint shimmer. It wasn’t bright—barely noticeable, really—but it was enough if you knew to look for it.
Alex crouched, brushing aside some ferns, and found a specimen glowing weakly against the soil. He plucked it, studying it closely. Real leaves were better than any sketch in a book, and he could use this to identify others. Tucking the plant away, he moved on to the next, hoping to gather as many as possible while the opportunity remained.
That precious window of glow faded fast. Within minutes the grove was fully dark, and their search became considerably slower. Now, all they had to help identify them were the few specimens they’d managed to find, since the plants did not seem to grow close together at all.
Alex took the lead. He moved further into the forest, taking advantage of his night vision to pick out any plants he thought looked similar. Once he confirmed a duskmint—which wasn’t often, he was no herbalist—he picked it and placed it in the basket Grenil held. After the first dozen plants, they became slightly easier to identify.
Grenil tried to help, but on top of being a regular human he was also old, so his vision could be described as ‘average’ on the best of days. Duran wandered slightly between trees, occasionally pointing out something that turned out to be moss, a sapling, or in one memorable case, some sort of poisonous plant, judging by the rash it gave Alex.
“We should have brought lanterns.” Grenil grumbled, as he squinted at a plant Alex could very clearly tell was not even the correct colour. “I remembered the basket but forgot about something even more important.”
“Don’t beat yourself up over it.” Alex comforted him. “Neither of us thought to bring anything at all, which is even more embarrassing, considering we were awake for the whole day. At least you did
something
.”
Still, the work wasn’t unpleasant. Just tedious. Quiet. The kind of simple task that filled the night with soft rustling and low conversation. It was nothing they weren’t used to; the journey through Orenthia had contained plenty of quiet moments between the hair-raising chases and fights.
They moved gradually, almost unconsciously, deeper into the grove. Each plant grew alone, scattered across the terrain, so every time Alex spotted one a little further ahead, they followed. Then another. Then another still.
After a while, the entrance to the forest was no longer visible behind them, swallowed by darkness and trees.
Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. any sightings.
Alex straightened briefly to stretch his back, fingers brushing away dirt.
“That should be twenty-eight,” he said quietly. “We’re a bit deep in the forest, aren’t we? I think we should start heading back. I don’t wanna get lost in here only to get fried when the sun comes up.”
Grenil shifted the basket in his hands, peering uselessly into the dark.
“We’ve been walking in a straight line this whole time,” he said. “Turning around should get us out.”
“Yeah, which is why I’d rather do it now than when we’ve wandered in deeper and lost our bearings.” Alex replied. “I’m sure we’ll find another dozen on our way back.”
He turned, squinting through the trees in the direction they’d come from, then frowned.
‘I could’ve sworn-’
That’s when he heard it again.
Footfalls.
They were quiet, barely noticeable even to him. Grenil didn’t react at all, and Duran continued scanning the ground for herbs, oblivious.
Alex held up a hand. “Wait.”
The two others turned too look at him, quickly turning serious when they saw his expression. The time spent escaping from Orenthia had given them a great appreciation for his enhanced senses.
Alex listened.
The first time he caught it, it had been luck, a happy coincidence. But now that he was focusing, he caught it again. A shift of weight on damp earth. Then another, slightly farther away. Something repositioning itself.
And… voices?
Faint, low muttering. Not words he understood. Not even words he could properly separate. Just a rise and fall of tones, clipped and hushed, as if several figures were whispering to one another from different angles. He couldn’t see anything, but that meant nothing.
Alex’s mind immediately flashed to several other times they had been ambushed by their pursuers. His heartbeat quickened.
How was this possible? It was one thing for them to get chased down over and over as they fled through the countryside in one direction. That he could understand. But to set up an ambush one day after the took this mission…
Feigning nonchalance, he bent down to rummage across the ground for plants. In reality, he used the opportunity to pick up a handful of rocks, already filling his arms with mana.
‘If they wanna send more people to die,’
He straightened back up,
‘I can only oblige.’
A branch snapped to his left.
“Enemies!” He turned as fast as he could, cocking his arm back, and threw with all his might.
The pebbles flew threw the air and peppered a bush with holes, eliciting cries pain and alarm from within.
Their surroundings erupted into chaos.
Shapes burst out of the brush at once, small bodies lunging through the dark with jagged screeches. Alex didn’t have time to count—maybe a dozen, give or take. Two stumbled awkwardly, slowed by the bruises and cuts from the stones he had thrown earlier, but the rest came in a chaotic ring, surrounding them completely.
Goblins.
The number one fantasy menace. If you were to ask ten fantasy world residents what their least favourite monster was, you’d get ten goblins. Although he had never seen one in real life, or even been told that they existed, how could Alex not recognise the little green fuckers for what they were?
Grenil backed up with a strangled curse, nearly tripping over a root. Duran stepped in front of him immediately, raising his lone arm, posture tense. He wasn’t strong enough to fight properly, not with only one hand and no real training, but he could at least tank a hit or two. He also had his blood burning ability in case things went south.
Alex grinned.
‘Finally, a real chance to let loose.’
“Ka’tresh! Ka’tresh!” One of the goblins shouted, a guttural bark that seemed to ignite the rest.
“Tcharek! Tcharek!” Others answered back, voices overlapping in a harsh, rhythmic chant that rattled through the trees.
The entire group rushed them at once—twelve small bodies hurling themselves into the clearing with murderous intent. Clubs. Rusted blades. Stone-tipped spears. One even held a leaf rake.
The first goblin reached him with a spear thrust, screaming a sharp, repeated word that sounded like “Shra! Shra!” He slid past the thrust, grabbed the shaft, and ripped it sideways, dragging the creature off its feet. Before gravity caught it, he brought his knee up and drove it into the goblin’s chest. The impact punched the air from its lungs in a wet gurgle.
Ripping the spear from its weakened grip, he turned it around and rammed it halfway through the creature’s body, the tip erupting from its back in a spray of blood and gore.
Another goblin leapt onto his back, claws digging into his shoulders. Alex reached over, grabbed it by the neck, and
pulled
, ripping it off his back and cracking its spine like a whip. He flung the limp corpse to the side and turned on his next target.
A club whistled toward his temple. He ducked, swept a leg outward, and caught the attacker in the knees. Both legs snapped backwards. The creature shrieked in agony and collapsed to the ground, but was quickly silenced by a well-placed kick.
Although the goblins had obviously assessed him as the greatest threat, with eight of their number rushing him, four others were headed towards his companions.
Duran moved to intercept them, placing himself between the old man and death with absolutely no hesitation. The first goblin stabbed at him. He blocked with his forearm, the weapon getting lodged in his deadened flesh. Yanking the goblin off balance, he kicked it in the chest, making it let go and stumble backwards.
Duran wasn’t strong enough to kill them quickly, not with one arm, but he bought time—which was all he needed to do.
Alex spun, closing the distance in three quick strides. Gathering his strength, his muscles tensed and flooded with magic as he delivered a titanic uppercut to the nearest assailant, ripping its head clean from its shoulders and sending it flying into the canopy.
The other goblins wised up to the threat that had taken out four of their number in twice as many seconds.
The other two that had been harrying Duran turned toward Alex with panicked snarls, shouting something desperate and high-pitched. They tried to scatter, but Alex was faster. He grabbed the first by the arm and whipped it into the second. A meaty thud was followed by sharp cries of pain as the two creatures collided, only to choke when Alex rammed his mana enhanced arm through both of them up to the elbow.
To his left, a goblin jumped from a low branch, letting out another “Karesh!” as it came down with its knife raised. Rolling out of the way, Alex was about to kill it when Duran popped its head like a grape with a club he picked up. He was so surprised that he failed to react to the goblin charging at him from behind, its battered, rusty spear entering his back with a flash of pain.
The goblin had barely started cheering when Alex turned around and hit it with a rage induced backhand, sending it flying across the clearing with a broken neck.
‘Ah, fuck.’
He grimaced as he grabbed the spear shaft still embedded in him and yanked it out, inspecting the rust corroded tip.
‘Just what I needed. Fantasy tetanus.’
Throwing the spear aside, he went to finish off the rest of the pests only to notice that the clearing had fallen silent. Looking around, he realised that the handful of remaining goblins had abandoned the attack and had turned to flee instead.