Goblins (3)–floor quest....
----
Sip!
Sip!
I took slow, measured sips from my cup of coffee, the warm liquid soothing my nerves as I settled down on the cool grass beneath me.
The cup felt just right in my hand—light, warm, familiar.
In front of me stretched a vast expanse of emerald forest, swaying gently under the breath of the wind.
The trees stood tall and proud, rustling like an ocean of leaves.
High above, the sky was clear, painted in a soft hue of blue.
White clouds drifted lazily, like they had nowhere urgent to be—unlike us.
All around me, other players were gathering at the forest edge, the designated spot for the floor quest to begin.
There was a buzz in the air.
Whispers, laughter, and occasional nervous chuckles floated through the breeze.
"Hey, what do you think the floor quest’s gonna be?" one asked.
"Well, according to the guide, we’ll probably have to hunt a certain number of goblins within a time limit," someone else replied, trying to sound knowledgeable but betraying a hint of anxiety.
"Wanna team up?" a guy with a short sword strapped to his back asked a nearby player.
"Sure, sounds better than dying alone," came the reply, followed by a nervous chuckle.
Small groups were forming here and there—some players confident and chatting with ease, others more reserved, clutching their weapons tightly, glancing around with darting eyes.
[15 minutes left until the start of the floor quest!]
The system message floated across everyone's view like a transparent digital banner.
Sip.
I ignored the noise and took another sip of my coffee, savoring the bitterness and warmth. One last calm moment before the hunt began.
As I drained the final drop, I opened my inventory with a flick of my fingers and slid the empty cup inside.
[Congratulations! You’ve regained one of your piece!]
[You’ve obtained the title: Coffee Lover!]
A small glowing message popped up before my eyes.
I blinked. ‘A title? From coffee?’
I looked at the blue translucent window that appeared next:
---
[Coffee Lover]
Effect: Increases your mana regeneration and decreases your fatigue by 20% upon drinking coffee.
Your affinity with nature has increased.
Description: You're a coffee lover. You can't miss coffee a single day.
---
I stared at it for a second, smirking.
I hadn’t even drunk that much coffee since I arrived here, but…
‘Must be that feature again.’
The Tower didn’t just observe us in the present—it analyzed our past too.
If certain habits or traits aligned with actions taken inside the tower, it rewarded us.
Like if someone was boxer before entering the Tower and chooses mage as his class.
Then if certain conditions are met, he can regain his piece outside the Tower, in form of skill, title or even item.
‘Hmm… not bad.’
One more reason to keep drinking coffee, I suppose.
I closed the status window and let my gaze drift back toward the forest.
The air around us shimmered suddenly, like heat rising from a summer road.
Then, a soft blue glow gathered midair.
Sparkles of mana began to swirl and concentrate, and from that light—
A group emerged.
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
First came a tall, humanoid figure — the Senior Lackey — clad in formal combat robes, his skin a pale shade of blue, his eyes glowing with silver intensity.
He looked like a man, but was clearly of a different species — one not native to any Earthly lineage.
His posture was upright, his demeanor sharp.
Behind him stood three Junior Lackeys, each about the size of a teenager, though their appearances varied.
One had the scales and snout of a lizardfolk, another wore iron gauntlets too large for his arms, while the third floated just an inch off the ground, her ghost-like body flickering with translucent strands.
Trailing behind them were dozens of Rookie Lackeys—tiny, glowing creatures the size of fists, each darting around like excited familiars, clinging close to their respective juniors.
The gathering quieted.
The Senior Lackey stepped forward, raising his hand.
His voice was crisp and commanding.
“Hello, players.”
Silence followed instantly, like a switch had been flipped. All attention turned toward the group.
“Your floor quest is simple,” he continued. “Hunt 50 goblins within 3 hours.”
His tone held no room for questions.
A system prompt immediately appeared in front of me, and I read through it carefully.
---
[New Quest: Goblin Hunt!]
Difficulty: D-
Type: Battle
Conditions: Players or party members must not exceed the 2nd floor level.
Time Limit: 3 hours
Objective: Hunt 50 goblins.
Rewards: Access to the 3rd floor and TP+5,000.
---
Around me, players began murmuring again, voices tense but excited.
“Fifty goblins? That’s... doable.”
“Depends on how strong they are.”
“We better not waste time.”
The Senior Lackey folded his arms behind his back, watching the crowd with narrowed eyes.
“You may use any method you wish, as long as the conditions are met. Your survival, strategy, and teamwork—or lack thereof—are your own responsibility.”
Then, with a final sweep of his gaze, he nodded.
[Quest Starts! Good luck, players.]
The message pulsed in bright green in front of us, accompanied by a gentle chime.
“Good luck,” the Senior Lackey added, his voice more neutral now.
And with that, the event began.
Like a wave breaking, the players surged forward into the forest, blades drawn, spells charged, feet thudding against the soft earth.
I stood up slowly, stretching out my arms and rolling my shoulders.
‘Time to move.’
With the wind brushing past my cloak and the distant shouts of players fading into the woods, I stepped forward — into the forest, into the hunt.
------
Goblins.
Filthy little creatures.
Their skin was a sickly green, rough and mottled like diseased leather.
Yellow, beady eyes peered from under bony brows—always twitching, always darting with primal hunger.
Their jagged teeth poked out in uneven rows from thin, cracked lips, and long, pointed ears twitched with every sound, like wild animals sniffing for prey.
They were small—barely the size of a child—but not to be underestimated.
Because what they lacked in intellect, they more than made up for in numbers.
Goblins reproduced faster than rats, their nests multiplying like weeds in fertile soil.
One could become ten, and ten could become a swarm.
For new, low-level players—those still clumsy with blades or slow with spell chants—they were deadly.
That’s why guides and veterans alike always recommended forming a party.
But—
‘That doesn’t change the fact they’re weak.’
I moved through the forest in silence, my boots gliding over the undergrowth with practiced ease.
Tall trees loomed above, their branches casting shifting shadows on the mossy ground.
The wind carried faint, animal-like chattering in the distance.
I adjusted my grip on the sheathed dagger at my waist, eyes scanning the swaying underbrush.
Then—
Ssk! Ssk!
A sudden rustling burst from the bushes on my left.
A blur of green shot toward me.
I didn’t flinch.
Five of them.
Two leapt from the thickets—jaws wide, claws outstretched—while three emerged from the front, snarling and hissing like cornered beasts.
“Kree!”
“Kreeeh!”
The goblins shrieked, saliva flying from their mouths as they charged.
I pivoted to the side.
The first goblin’s claws sliced through empty air.
The second met my hand.
I grabbed its skull mid-leap, fingers digging into its oily, matted hair.
With a grunt, I twisted my body and hurled it sideways.
Thud!
It slammed into the earth with a crack. Dazed, it tried to rise, but I was already on it.
I raised my boot—
Crack!
—and brought my heel down with a sickening crunch.
Bone shattered. Green blood sprayed out from its crushed skull like a burst melon.
[You’ve slain a goblin!]
The other goblins froze, eyes wide, steps faltering.
Their shrieks turned shrill—nervous now.
Too late.
In one smooth motion, I drew three daggers from my belt and flung them with deadly precision.
Fft! Fft! Fft!
The first dagger buried itself in a goblin’s eye socket.
It dropped like a stone.
The second slashed clean through another’s throat, arterial blood gushing as it gargled and collapsed.
The third struck a fleeing one between the shoulder blades, severing its spine mid-run.
It twitched once.
Then stopped.
[You’ve slain a goblin!]
[You’ve slain a goblin!]
[You’ve slain a goblin!]
Only one remained—the one that had leapt first and missed, tumbling to the dirt.
It scrambled up, wide-eyed, its limbs trembling.
“K-Kree?! Kreeh!”
It turned tail and ran, yelping into the woods.
I made no move to chase.
No—that would’ve been a waste.
‘Go. Run. Bring your friends.’
I wiped the blood from my boot against the grass and retrieved my daggers.
The forest rustled again in the distance.
And I smiled.
‘The hunt’s just getting started.’
---
The forest was still.
Only the whisper of wind stirred the leaves now, as I crouched beside the corpse of the last goblin, wiping the blood-slicked edge of a dagger on its ragged loincloth.
The coppery scent of blood hung heavy in the air, mixing with the earthy aroma of damp moss and tree bark.
Then—
Skrrrrrrk!
A screech echoed from deeper in the forest.
The goblin had done as expected.
I stood, stretching my neck with a pop.
The bushes shivered violently. Branches cracked.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
And then they came.
A horde.
At least two dozen of them burst from the treeline—limbs flailing, eyes blazing with blind fury and bloodlust.
Their weapons were crude.
Rusted knives. Jagged rocks tied to sticks.
Splintered planks with nails sticking out.
Some even carried sharpened bones.
“KREEEE!!”
“RAAAA!”
“KRAAAAGH!”
Their shrieks tore through the forest, echoing between the trees like a feral army.
I stood in their path.
Unmoving.
Unfazed.
‘Let’s begin.’
The first goblin reached me, lunging forward with a stone club raised high.
I stepped aside.
Crack!
My elbow shattered its jaw on the way past.
Its scream became a wet gurgle before I spun behind it and drove a dagger through its spine.
Shnk!
[You’ve slain a goblin!]
Another came from the left, swinging a rusted axe.
I ducked, pivoted, and swept its legs.
It hit the ground hard.
Thud!
I planted my foot on its chest and slammed my blade into its throat.
Squelch!
Green blood geysered up, splashing across my cheek.
I didn’t flinch.
They kept coming.
Three from the front.
I threw a dagger—thwip!—straight into one’s eye. It dropped, convulsing.
The second raised a wooden spear.
I caught the shaft mid-thrust, yanked him forward, and slammed my forehead into his face.
Crunch!
His skull gave way with a hollow snap. He slumped like a sack of meat.
The third tried to circle around—
Too slow.
I slashed low, severing his knee with a clean cut.
He fell, shrieking.
I walked over and stabbed him in the mouth mid-scream.
[You’ve slain a goblin!]
[You’ve slain a goblin!]
[You’ve slain a goblin!]
More.
They surrounded me, snarling and charging in clusters now.
I moved like a shadow.
Ducking, weaving, slicing.
Each strike was precise.
Each motion an execution.
A goblin tried to stab from behind.
I stepped back, caught its wrist, twisted it until the bone snapped—Crk!—and buried a dagger in its gut.
Squelch!
I lifted it up, still writhing, and hurled it into the crowd.
They crashed like dominoes.
One stumbled to its feet, only for my dagger to pierce its temple mid-step.
Its eyes rolled up. It collapsed.
Blood sprayed like a fountain across the ferns.
[You’ve slain a goblin!]
Ten minutes passed. Then twenty.
I lost count of the kills.
Guts littered the forest floor. Severed limbs hung from branches.
The grass had turned red, soaking up the blood like ink into paper.
But still, I didn’t stop.
I let one live.
Every time.
One goblin, eyes wide with terror, would limp away, screaming for help.
And each time, more would come.
The bodies piled up like trash at my feet.
The forest was a massacre.
The last batch that came didn’t charge.
They hesitated.
Some even tried to flee as soon as they saw the blood-drenched clearing and the silent figure standing in the middle—calm, untouched, surrounded by corpses.
But they didn’t escape.
I made sure of that.
One dagger in the back. One in the throat. One straight through the heart.
One hit. One kill.
Every time.
Until—
[You’ve slain a goblin!]
[Quest Complete: 50 Goblins slain!]
[Your rewards are being given!]
[You may now access the 3rd Floor.]
[You’ve obtained 5,000 TP!]
The notification popped up with a gentle ding.
My boots crunched over bloodied leaves as I walked away.
The last goblin—terrified beyond reason—watched me from the treetops, eyes shaking, too afraid to even breathe.
I looked up at it.
I smiled faintly.
“Run.”
It did.
I sheathed my final blood-stained dagger and exhaled.
The wind had shifted.
The forest, once loud with goblin screams and battle cries, had gone silent.
Only the creaking of branches and the dripping of blood from above remained.
