They started prodding him, and he marched with them to the town in the distance, a growing pit filling his belly. “What are you going to do with me?”

Gomorra spoke up from behind him. “Well…I’ll be honest Jason, we’d like the Mink more than you. However, it seems to trust you more than us. Once we have it safely within our grasp, we can let you go, maybe help send you on your way too.”

He looked up at the animal in question, who was watching the weapons carefully. Brought me into a whole world of trouble, haven’t you? “Will I be in danger?”

“Oh yes, but we’ll protect you.”

He snorted. Oh, I feel so safe right now.

They moved closer, until they were right by the battered and burnt walls of the town. His throat tickled at the scent of ash, and he tried to limit his breathing. The entrance began to open with a groan, and he spied two muscular green-skinned men, who otherwise were similar in features to Gomorra and the others. They didn’t bother opening the door the whole way, and he was ushered inside. The smell grew worse, as the scent of unwashed bodies pressed on him. His eyes watered as he moved up the charred streets. The houses matched the walls in their shoddiness, looking sturdy in some places and atrociously weak in others. As he walked, he noticed red eyes peeking out from the buildings. They were Goblins too, but different to Gomorra, with skin tones that ranged from grey to light and dark green. They seemed to be eyeing the Witch warily. Wiser than me then. “Why are there so many varieties of Goblins? Is that normal?”

“No…it isn’t. Things haven’t been good for our species.”

He wanted to sneer, but something held him back. “What do you mean?” He decided to ask instead, but there was no reply.

They continued inwards, the quality of the houses becoming better, until they finally arrived at what must have been the town square. In the centre, there was a broken statue; its head cleanly chopped off, and its expression eerily horrified as it lay by its feet. His eyes lingered on it for too long, and he was rewarded by a sharp poke in the back, pushing him to the scorched building behind the statue. As they drew near, the sounds of laughter and cheers trailed out, and Gomorra stepped in front to open the door. They walked down what once must have been a well-polished hallway, and stepped through a doorway into a hall. Two long tables ran up to a grand desk at the end of the room. Goblins ran everywhere, carousing, gambling and fighting. His eyes wandered over to two light-skinned Goblins dancing with tankards on their heads, before stepping into a bowl of a hulking female. The creature's muscles swelled, and her arms blurred. Jason blinked, and turned to look at the wall where the two drunk Goblins had suddenly appeared slumped by. Did she just… The hulking figure stomped away, bowl in hand, but he didn’t have time to continue watching, as he got poked in the back again, pushing him forwards. He reluctantly moved in, drawing the attention of the Goblins around him. As he moved, more of them began watching, and some started to approach. He looked at Gomorra with a panicked expression on his face, but she didn’t move. One of the short creatures came up and eyed his sword appreciatively, before lunging to grab it. He pushed it back and it snarled at him, before leaping again. He tried the same as before, but this time, it bit him. He yelped, clutching his hand, as the Goblin’s fingers flashed and was suddenly holding his sword. He stared at it, his jaw hanging loose, while it turned and ran away cackling. That seemed to be some sort of signal, because another one came running at him. The same process happened again, and he ended up without his chainmail. He gritted his teeth, as one more started to come near. The whole time, he was being pushed down the hall, towards the grand table at the end, and the Goblins didn’t stop coming to steal his things. Even when all of his armour and bag had gone, they still kept coming, tearing his underclothes off. He was flushing furiously in nothing but his underwear, when he felt a hand slip down his pants. He roared, as a primal emotion surged in him, and he swung a punch at the tiny thing that grabbed him. It was sent flying, and he blinked at it. It was a Goblin boy, just a child, and he suddenly felt a cold sweat on his brow; the Goblins hooted with laughter though, and the little boy fumed, before stomping off. He looked around wildly, but they seemed to approve of his actions. He felt another poke, and he jumped forwards, twisting to see Gomorra giving him a nod. Trembling, he turned and finally stepped up to the dias before three huge Goblins. Before he could inspect them closer though, a tiny furred face looked down from above his head. The Mink looked confused, and a little worried. He stared at it, having no words that he could possibly say in this situation. He heard a creak of wood, drawing his gaze back to the three figures. They were the largest Goblins here, their bodies made of thick corded muscle, with strong jaws and arms that looked like they could crush him like an ant. Each of them was of a different colour, light green, dark green, and grey. They had their own individual circulets too, made of smooth wood, with simple carvings on them.

‘Ding’ [Chieftain of Icy Caverns Tribe ???]

‘Ding’ [Chieftain of the Deep Marsh Tribe Lv ???]

‘Ding’ [Chieftain of the Shifting Sands Tribe Lv ???]

He blinked, and shook his head, waiting for them to do something. Gomorra stepped forward, and spoke, “This is all that remains of the Rotting Hills Tribe. I am the acting Chieftain.”

The Grey one leaned forward. “We do not want the attention your people bring, Rotting Hills. We have enough as it is.”

Gomorra cocked her head. “Is this place not welcome to all Goblins? A haven from the dangers of the Wildlands and others?”

The Grey one, gave a deep snort. “Yes, which is why we don’t wish for you or your…” He cut off as the Chieftain in the middle, the Deep Marsh one, raised her dark green hand.

“Were you followed?” a deep voice asked.

Jason saw Gomorra’s finger twitch. “No.”

The Deep Marsh woman watched her closely for a moment, before nodding. “Then I have no issue.”

The Grey Goblin tried to protest, but was cut off as both of the other Chieftains shot him a glare. “Fine.” He grumbled. “And what of this human and his pet? The human isn’t worth anything to us.”

Gomorra glanced back at him. “No, the human isn’t. But the Mink? Very much so – and it only remains here now because the human isn’t in danger.”

The pale Chieftain rested his head on his hand. “And how is that? I fail to see how a little rat, as beautiful as it looks, would be helpful.” His voice was the lightest of the three, airy.

Little rat. He blinked.

Gomorra inhaled deeply. “It would be useful for research. If I can understand its powers, then I- we could…I don’t even know. The legends about them are wide and varied. They have the ability to travel out of this plane though, to a place no-one has ever been before…” He raised his eyebrows as she firmly kept her gaze in front of her.

The Chieftain grunted, and waved his hand. “Fine, fine. It's hardly any consequence to us. As long as no-one tries to rescue the human.”

That seemed to be a sign that the meeting was over, and Gomorra grabbed him by the elbow, before guiding him out. The Goblins jeered at him, as he walked, a few of them throwing leftovers at his face. Thankfully, the Mink used its magic to catch it all, before throwing it back. That seemed to excite them however, and before long he was in a hailstorm of food. The Mink couldn’t catch all of it, so when he exited the building, he was completely drenched. He wiped himself aggressively, and shook his hands.

Gomorra kept leading him away from the place. “Come, we'll find you a place to stay.” They walked out of the square, and stopped outside of a house that looked a little bit better than the others. He didn’t even wait for them, he just opened what was left of the door, and entered. “Make yourself at home.” She called after him, before whispering something to her group. He twisted and watched as they followed him inside, while she turned and left.

He pressed his lips together, and glanced up at the stairs. He didn’t acknowledge the others, he just hurried up and jumped in the first room that he saw. He distantly noticed the state of the room as filthy, but he didn’t care; all his eyes focused on was the bed. He stumbled up to it, and fell to his knees, his hands grasping the crispened mattress. He grinded his teeth as tears began to leak from his eyes. He ignored the cooing from the Mink as he started sobbing. His breath was short, and he struggled to not break down completely, until there was something poking him in the belly. He opened his eyes, to look down and see a pile of rags on the bed. Startled, he looked down further and saw the Mink sitting right in front of him, its eyes filled with concern. He stared at it for a moment, before he just gave it a nod and started putting the ragged clothes on. Once he was done, he wiped his face before looking down at the Mink again. “What am I going to do?”

It cocked its head, and bent down, before launching itself through the air, and swimming up to his arms. It prodded them and looked at him questioningly. “What?” He asked, baffled.

It rolled its eyes, and did it again. His thoughts were sluggish, but he eventually realised what it was trying to tell him. “My Stats points…” He said in surprise. “That’s…a thing you do, isn’t it? You put Stat points into things – Status.”

‘Ding’ Name: Jason Darting

First Class: [Phantom Swordsman Lv 13]

Second Class: None

Unspent stat points: 65.

Vitality: 200.

Endurance: 100.

Strength: 25.

Dexterity: 25

Wisdom: 50.

Intelligence: 50.

General Skills: [Identify Lv 1] ; [Bretae Standard Language Lv 5] ; [Death Magic Resistance Lv 1] ; [Space Magic Resistance Lv 1]

Class Skills: [Spacial Strike Lv 1] ; [Phantom State Lv 1] ; [Ghostly Swordsmanship Lv 1]

He flinched. The voice somehow said every single word in one syllable. It was completely different from how he’d listened to everything the first time, but for some reason, he now could imagine his Status as clear as day. He shook his head. This was something he could do right now, and it would help. He just had to decide where to put everything. Experimentally, he put five into Strength, and his breath hitched as he felt something rush into him. His muscles rippled and gew and his bones felt heavier. He stared in wonder at his hands, and a laugh hiccuped out of him. “I never have to do exercise…ever again.” He laughed harder, and rubbed his eyes once more. He then put five into Dexterity, and again that rush entered him, except this time he felt his muscles compress, and his ligaments smoothen. He flexed his arm in wonder, the ease of movement astonishing him. He messed around for a bit longer, before eagerly moving on to Wisdom. He put five points into it, and froze, his eyes widening. A trickle of a storm slid into place behind his heart, which then pulsed out through his body, along with the beat. His exhale trembled, and he shook himself. “Okay…” he said, and moved on to Intelligence. The storm grew denser, and shocks of lighting travelled through him. He eyed his remaining Stat points. Whatever happened next, he would need to make the most of his Abilities, and now that he’d lost all of his armour, [Phantom State] was pretty much his best option. So with that, he put the remaining forty five into Wisdom, so it matched his Endurance, meaning his State would last as long as possible. He nodded. He was as ready as he could be.

He looked down at the Mink, noticing its pleased expression. “Yeah, yeah. You were helpful…” To his surprise, it smiled at him, its twinkling eyes sparkling brighter.