Ichor Cell-Interlude 8 - Scout Expedition
Kael stepped through the guild doors, the morning crowds rushing and brushing past him as adventurers of every rank jostled for space. The familiar blend of parchment dust, sweat, and someone’s sickeningly sweet breakfast pastry hung in the air. He ignored all of it as his eyes swept the hall.
He spotted Rhea almost immediately. She stood at the mission counter, posture straight, spear strapped across her back. Iris was beside her, leaning one shoulder against the counter as she spoke quietly to the receptionist, idly rotating an arrow between her fingers while she waited for paperwork to be pulled.
Kael threaded through the crowd and joined them just as the receptionist slid a sealed commission envelope across the counter.
“That should be everything,” the clerk said.
Rhea accepted the envelope with a curt nod.
Kael looked between the two of them, piecing together their relaxed state with the fact that the guild gave them an urgent commission. His eyes lit up with understanding. “Goblins?”
“Goblins,” the receptionist confirmed. “A Wood-ranked adventurer ed a group of twelve in Westwood Grove.”
Kael raised an eyebrow. “And they got away?”
“That was the young man’s first mission.” The woman replied by way of explanation. “You know how it is.”
“Ah, one of those.” Kael nodded.
While most Wood ranks were just that—newbie young men and women hoping to make a living as adventurers—occasionally someone with prior experience or skills would join. Due to the guild’s rank constraints, they were also labelled as Woods, but could have Bronze, Silver or even Gold capabilities. There was once a case where a Calamity tier mage became a Wood, only to rescue an entire guild branch from a rampaging leshen on his second day on the job.
That’s why Kael wasn’t particularly surprised by the .
Rhea broke the seal and scanned the document, expression steady. “Straightforward enough. We’ll back before sundown.”
“Good. And do try to be careful.”
Kael doubted they’d need to be. Goblins were dangerous, yes, but the city usually slaughtered any goblin dens as soon as they were sighted, giving them little opportunity for growth. And this was what they were good at—recon, scouting, slipping in before trouble started and slipping out again without being noticed. With him and Iris both, the job was practically already done.
Rhea turned to them. “We’re heading out.”
Kael nodded and fell into step beside her as they made their way toward the doors.
Senna jogged up just as they crossed the threshold, staff tucked awkwardly under one arm. “I’m here! Sorry—I was just getting breakfast. The line was longer than expected.”
“You’re fine,” Rhea said without breaking stride. “We’ve got a goblin scouting mission.”
The others stepped into the cool morning air behind her, Kael adjusting the weight of his daggers at his belt.
Kael took the lead the moment they left the city walls behind. The morning sun filtered through light clouds, warming the dirt path as they walked. The grove saw its fair share of lesser monsters, herb-gathering missions, and forage runs, so the path had worn itself into the earth from decades of foot traffic. Kael had been here more times than he could count; enough that he could navigate it with his eyes closed.
He stepped off the road the instant they reached the treeline, boots sinking slightly into soft moss. The forest greeted him with the same smells as always—wet leaves, rich dirt, a faint sweetness from blooming shrubs. Birds chirped overhead. A squirrel darted up a tree trunk.
Soon enough, they neared the area mentioned in the guild . It was pretty obvious, as the stench of blood and death hung thick in the air. Stepping around a bush, Kael beheld a scene of carnage.
Almost a dozen goblin corpses lay scattered around a small clearing, their bodies in various states of ruin.
Kael stopped just inside the tree line, brow climbing up his forehead.
Goblins died all the time—adventurers, beasts, even infighting could take out a handful. They weren’t particularly tough creatures, and he had lost count of how many goblin corpses he had seen in his time.
But the way some of these goblins died was
brutal
. He wasn’t sure if he had the strength necessary for some of these things. Kael crouched beside one of the bodies, its body undamaged except for the gruesome, crooked line of its spine, as if someone had cracked the whole thing like a whip.
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The others stepped into the clearing behind him, each taken aback by the carnage before them.
Iris let out a low whistle. “Seems like the newbie is at least Silver, if this is the type of shit they can do.”
“Might even be Gold.” Rhea replied, nudging a pair of goblins with a fist-sized hole going all the way through both their bodies.
“Either way, we have a job to do.” Kael refocused his team. “Iris, help me out here. We should find some tracks leading back to the den.”
Iris nodded and moved to the opposite side of the clearing, her gaze sweeping in slow, careful arcs. Kael shifted further along the perimeter, brushing aside leaves and bent grass with the back of his hand. Blood had soaked into the earth in places, but tracking a disorganised pack of goblins was something he could do in his sleep.
Within moments, he spotted what he needed.
“Here,” Kael called out quietly.
Rhea and Senna approached while Iris crossed over.
Kael pointed at a wide, overlapping trail leading deeper into the grove. Faint to the naked eye, but obvious to him. “These came into the clearing before the fight. And here—” he drew a line across the dirt with his finger, “—those left afterward. Survivors running.”
Rhea crouched beside him. “Direction?”
Kael jerked his chin toward thicker underbrush. “That way. Straight toward the deeper trails. That’s where the den is.”
“Then let’s go.” Rhea gestured for him to lead the way forward.
Once past the clearing, the forest returned to its usual calm as they left behind the smell of blood and death.
Kael slipped ahead, barely even paying attention to tracking the creatures. Every broken twig, disturbed leaf, and bent blade of grass told a story. He didn’t need to think about it; the forest floor always spoke if you knew the language.
After a short while, the trail grew even wider as a second stream merged into theirs, the group swelling to at least two dozen.
“Fresh prints,” he murmured. “Lots of them. They were in a bigger group that then split up.”
“How many?” Senna asked.
Kael shrugged. “I dunno. A few dozen. Less than fifty.”
Iris nodded in agreement.
“Hm…” Rhea pondered for a second. “That doesn’t change our priorities. We find the nest, check the scale, and get out. Whether there’s fifty of them or five thousand, our job stays the same.”
The others nodded and continued following the trail.
They walked for several more minutes before the forest began to subtly shift—not unnaturally, but in the way a living place changed when it brushed up against constant monster activity. The air grew warmer. A faint odour hung in the air. Bones and stripped branches appeared more frequently along the edges of the path. The earth became flatter, packed down by countless small feet.
At this point even an untrained civilian would be able to make out the ten foot wide path the monsters had forged through the underbrush.
“Main trail,” he said. “Everything’s feeding into this one.”
Rhea nodded. “We stay quick. The sooner we confirm this, the faster we get out.”
Kael didn’t need to be told twice. He slipped ahead again, ducking under a low branch and pushing through a cluster of ferns. The ground dipped gently. Warm, stale air brushed across his face in short, regular pulses.
He pushed aside a screen of brush—
And there it was.
The den.
A wide, strangely tall tunnel mouth opened into the earth, supported by uneven wooden beams and scavenged stones. Smoke drifted lazily from a series of narrow vents carved into the hillside above. The surrounding ground was flattened smooth by heavy use. Goblins moved in and out—carrying bundles of wood, stone, and scrap metal—going about their routines with the same mindless industriousness he’d seen in every other nest.
Kael crouched low.
“Big nest,” he murmured. “Really big.”
Iris adjusted her position for a clearer view. “Three patrols visible. And I hear more further out.”
Senna swallowed. “So, several hundred?”
“Several hundred at least,” Kael said. “Probably around a thousand.”
Rhea scanned the clearing. “Good. We have our confirmation. Let’s get a tighter count and pull out.”
Kael nodded and edged forward, intending to get a cleaner angle around a broken post.
He froze.
Footsteps echoed from deep inside the tunnel—heavy ones, far too steady and slow to be any regular goblin. Kael immediately lifted a hand, and the others went silent. The goblins outside noticed it too, instinctively scurrying out of the way. A shadow grew in the tunnel mouth.
Suddenly, the unnaturally tall cave entrance made sense.
It was big—far too big for a normal goblin. The variant barely cleared the twelve-foot-tall cave entrance as it walked out into the open.
Broad shoulders, thick limbs, with dense, thick fur crawling across its upper arms and torso that bristled as it moved. Two short but heavy tusks curled upward from its jaw, pushing its lip into a permanent snarl.
Beneath the fur, scales glimmered faintly across its ribs and collarbone, catching the sunlight in dull green patches. Its fingers were long, slightly webbed, each ending in dark, hooked claws over six inches long. A faint slit along the side of its neck fluttered once as it exhaled, like a half-formed gill.
Its eyes were the worst part—steady, focused, aware.
Kael had seen variants before. He’d killed variants before. But this one…
Rhea’s voice was quiet, though he could hear the sudden tension in it. “At least second generation. Probably higher.”
Kael swallowed, nodding in agreement. This wasn’t just a variant; this was something that could fight a Gold on even footing—and most likely win.
In other words, a lethal threat for their group.
The variant scanned the slope, gaze drifting past the working goblins and toward the forest line.
Toward them.
Kael eased backward a single step and heard the others do the same. Senna trembled slightly, trying to regulate her breathing.
Rhea whispered, “Quiet retreat. Slow. No sudden movements.”
Kael nodded. They began to draw back, inch by inch, keeping eyes locked on the creature. Fortunately, it hadn’t seen them yet, giving them a brief window of opportunity to get away. He breathed slow and deep, masking his presence as much as possible as he backed away.
Almost there. Almost—
A yelp burst out behind them.
Kael whipped his head around, only to see a pale faced Iris lowering her bow, a dead goblin pinned to a tree a dozen yards away from her. It had obviously wandered up the path they’d used to approach, sneaking up behind them when they were too shaken up by the variant to notice.
Kael’s heart dropped into his stomach.
He whipped back toward the den entrance.
The variant was staring right at him.
“We are fucked,” he breathed. “We are so fucking fucked.”
Interlude 8 - Scout Expedition
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