A part of him scread out in exultation as he swiftly took a goblin's head from its neck. His headache seed to go down sowhat, and the perpetual sense of unease that had hung over him for the last few weeks seed to ease as well.
The weekend had finally co, and with it brought the newfound freedom of the Grand Forest. Oliver had made Verdant arrange it, not knowing how difficult it was to get the necessary paperwork done in such a short amount of ti. But the priest had managed it regardless.
He'd had his flavour of Academy life the past week. It had co replete with plenty of drama, more had happened than he would rightly have expected. He put it down to Verdant's Gravity of Competence. Even if Oliver had wanted to keep a low profile, it was all but impossible. Even the way he walked stood out from the rest.
The physicality granted to him by his Second Boundary Blessing fundantally set him apart from everyone else his age, in more ways than he could notice. It would have been impossible to keep it quiet, even if he'd wanted to try.
Within the week, he'd had four out of his six Academy lessons. Aside from Command, the others were ant to be held more frequently – Oliver had missed out on Universal Close Combat Training and Physical enhancent – but due to his sudden admission, he'd been warned against attending those until the following week.
Another goblin ca storming towards his side, screaming its hate, and thrusting a spear out towards him.
It seed pathetically slow to him now. These were goblins of the lesser variety. Oliver – or Beam – was used to fighting Horned-Goblins, thanks to Francis' contamination of the local wildlife.
He jamd his sword through the creature's neck, and crushed its skull under his boot. Damn, that felt better. He turned to his companions, feeling refreshed.
"Well, sothing like that," he said to Lasha, who stood stone-faced on the edges of the little clearing in the trees that they'd found. She seed as though she'd seen sothing quite horrific. He empathized. The first ti he'd seen a goblin it certainly hadn't been easy. "How many of them do you reckon you can fight?"
Along with Oliver and Verdant, they'd brought Lady Blackthorn for her training. As he had declared, Oliver was determined to take it seriously. After all, in the future, he'd be training retainers of his own, and raising up an army. He needed to learn how to teach and train people just as much as he needed to improve his own strength with the sword.
"This is… Horrible!" Alia squeaked. She was considerably eker ever since they left the Academy. The journey here – a ten-minute journey in a carriage from the gate of the Green Castle – she'd spent in silence, nervously looking out the window.
Pauline was no better. She seed as white as a ghost as she looked at Oliver, and the goblin corpses that were pooling with blood by his feet.
Oliver had warned the two of them against coming along, but they'd insisted. They'd declared that it was the duty of Lady Blackthorn's retainers to accompany her when she went towards such dangers. Oliver had responded by asking if Blackthorn had any other retainers that might have been more suited to the role. He still hadn't gotten an answer to that.
"It's violence, I didn't think you would like it," Oliver said. "You don't need to feel bad about it. Everyone has things that they're good at, don't force yourself. So people never get used to blood. It took a while to."
"I find that surprising, my liege," Verdant noted, from the edge of the clearing. He had a spear as big as him in one hand. Sohow, the look seed just right for him… Though perhaps a stave would have fit better than a spear. Enjoy new stories from empire
"What about the corpses, Verdant?" Oliver asked. The second reason he'd co here was for coin. He wanted to know if he could make a business out of his slaying. After all, wasn't that what making money was all about? Selling a skill that a person was competent in? He'd done it before with Greeves, and he had a strong inclining that the prices here in the Academy would be far better.
"We can take what we wish, the Gaskeeper said," Verdant reminded him. Since it was the first ti through for the lot of them, after paying their fee at the entrance – a harsh fee of a silver each – the man currently on duty had gone through the rules of the Forest, most of which Oliver had imdiately forgotten, as he itched to be out and test the new sword that Blackwell had given him.
"I heard that part. What about prices? How much can we expect for these?" Oliver asked.
"I think it depends on who you're selling to… Though I might note that the primary worth of goblin flesh is as an alchemy ingredient. You'd do better if you had soone more intimately involved in alchemy, that might want to buy them from you, or make potions and items on your behalf," Verdant said.
Oliver clicked his fingers. "That, is a very good idea. Okay, for today, I'll leave the likes of goblin flesh, and co back with sothing more profitable. Then, we'll have to try and gather so more information about prices next week. There's only so much we can carry, after all."
With that cleared up, he flicked the blood from his sword. He noted that Lady Blackthorn was still standing stockstill, as though frozen to the spot. He sympathized. "Lasha," he said gently. "Are you still up for this?"
She managed to pull her eyes away from the corpses at Oliver's feet long enough to nod.
"Rember, it's as simple as what we discussed. We'll set you against one at first, allow you to get your grounding, then we'll gradually work our way up to see how much you can manage. I'll be standing off to the side, watching, so you won't have to fear a serious injury," Oliver said.
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