They watched as Oliver walked forwards, seemingly unhindered by the deep snow. Unlike the clearing where they'd fought the goblins, here the footing with the depth of the snow was an actual problem. As if fighting such a monstrous creature wasn't enough, to have to do it with poor footing as well…
Oliver regarded the creature with an impossible casualness. Co to think of it, Kaya realized he'd never seen Oliver fight. Not in person. Neither had Karesh or Jorah. They'd heard stories, they'd heard what he'd done to Bournemouth, but they'd never caught sight of him in physical combat himself…
He did have that aura to him, that aura of dangerousness. That aura made them think that whatever stories they told about him were likely true. The story of his battle with the Yarmdon – still subject to imnse doubt amongst the yellow-shirted students – was sothing that Kaya himself had enthusiastically proclaid as true.
Jorah had been more doubtful, whilst Karesh had jumped on Kaya's side, once he'd t Oliver himself, and Oliver had complinted him as a shield breaker.
But, there were levels to strength, weren't there? It was one thing being able to defeat a man, soone older and larger than yourself – that was impressive, they were still young, after all. But to defeat sothing otherworldly like a Hobgoblin. To defeat sothing that looked like a king among demons, that was a whole different story, a whole different dangerous ga to play.
Kaya was suddenly struck by a sudden emotion, besides his fear. The want to protect. An acknowledgent of his own cowardice, and wanting to move despite it. He'd sworn an oath, hadn't he? Seeing his Master facing off against such a creature alone put a bad feeling in his chest. From the way Jorah was playing with his sword, he must have felt it too.
But without orders from anyone else, they couldn't move. He looked to Verdant. If there was anyone who could change that, it was him. Verdant was like a second Master to them, given his status as a high-ranking noble. Or was he more like Oliver's Vice-Commander? It was hard to say, but regardless, he was soone Kaya knew to treat with imnse respect.
It felt strange to be serving the sa Master as such a man.
They watched as the Hobgoblin swept its club out madly behind it, thrashing the air in front of it long before Oliver had approached. It seed to be enraged rely by the fact of Oliver's existence. It was an insane rage, one that wouldn't allow it to sit still.
It ran around the clearing, with the sa kind of erraticness that a goblin had, though its erraticness was manifest far more destructively than a goblin ever could be. It was almost five tis a goblin's weight, after all.
With each mad dash that it did, it cast up a cloud of snow, and carved out a piece of the earth underneath. It was like a cannonball in organic form.
Oliver began to jog. The Hobgoblin fixed its gaze on him, and bellowed a roar. It lifted its club from the ground with ease, and began a batter's swing right towards where Oliver's head was bound to be if he kept running at the sa pace that he was.
Oliver ran even faster, making it even more likely that the club would hit him. That seed to be the only thing that could stifle the Hobgoblin's erratic movents even for a second – the notion that its swing would reduce the man in front of it to a red splatter. Even then, it seed impatient enough to detest the half a second it took before the club struck ho.
Kaya could hardly look. He almost closed his eyes as he saw the club near, but so better part of him forced himself to keep them open. If his Master were to die, then he should look upon that death, and acknowledge his own failure to protect him, should he not?
Yet what he saw was not the colour red. It was the blue of the back of Oliver's jacket, as he sohow eclipsed the club entirely, using so sort of trick, or so brilliant bit of speed that eclipsed Blackthorn, he seed to have phased right through the thing.
Before he could celebrate the fact that his master was not a bloody ss, he had to fight down the disbelief. It seed like his eyes were playing tricks on him. There was a discontinuity to what they were tracking. Even the Hobgoblin seed stunned.
A half a second later, before Kaya could even begin to catch up, the Hobgoblin's head was already flying through the air, accompanied by a fountain of blood that spouted from its still standing corpse. A second later, the body fell to its knees, and then fell to the ground.
Kaya's mouth hung open. He shared a look with Jorah, and saw the sa stunned look in his eyes. This was the Master they were serving, they suddenly realized. This was the most dangerous student in the Academy, and by such a distance that it wasn't even fair.
Oliver collected himself, allowing thoughts to creep back in, once he was sure that the Hobgoblin was dead. He cast his eyes downwards, acknowledging the kill. Just how far would his vendetta against Hobgoblins carry him, he wondered? After all this ti, how did it feel so good to kill such a beast?
Every ti a Hobgoblin was in front of him, he felt like he couldn't help but use nearly all his strength. He didn't feel that way against any other opponent. Against them, he used a strength proportionate to their abilities. But Hobgoblins filled him with such a visceral hatred that he had to kill them just as quickly as the Hobgoblins wanted to kill him.
"That was faster than last week," Verdant noted. He hadn't even heard the priest's approach.
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"Mm," Oliver agreed. The priest had brought the rest of the party running across the snow with him. He could see the excitent in Karesh's eyes, followed by the awe that he saw in Kaya and Jorah's. "I'm pleased that we planned the expedition for a Boulder Crab. This isn't enough," he said, flicking the blood from his sword.
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