Dungeon of Niflheim

184 Chapter 184: Dungeon war (23)

The seconds stretched out for minutes and the minutes felt as though hours passed as the battle continued on both sides, with neither refusing to budge. The wounds and casualties slowly built up but still no one buckled under the pressure even though they should have long ago. In fact, it appeared as though Frost was losing far more monsters than Gobuske despite being in a superior position. His monsters started to suffer from psychological attacks, their opponents aggressive nature was unrelenting, and they struggled to keep up with their tenacity, leading to a great many mistakes in their movements which the goblins and hob goblins eagerly took advantage of. But of course, Gobuske’s loss was inevitable, his offensive force dwindled down smaller and smaller until just the hob goblin commanders were left. Their bodies were completely covered in blood and gaping wounds, yet still they stood in opposition to their opponents, refusing to back down. The bodies of their soldiers littered around them, all dying with the same mad looks on their faces.

The Frost troll and Lagombi were fairly injured as well, but instead of taking advantage of their superior numbers at this point, they enacted duelling, to show their respect for their opponents. It was not the wisest move, but Frost allowed it as he too felt that these hob goblin commanders deserved some respect.

Meanwhile in Gobuske’s dungeon the frost troll and leader like frost dwarves commanded their forces with steady precision, closing the gap between them every minute. Steadily cutting down Gobuske’s forces. Everyone knew deep in their hearts that this was truly the endgame, not even a miracle could save Gobuske from losing but even so, it was a valiant defeat with nothing to be ashamed of.

With everyone on edge a change suddenly occurred in Gobuske’s dungeon. From within the large stone wall a huge shaking appeared, alerting all the forces present.

Don! Don! Don!

The commanders turned around towards the sound that was akin to someone punching their way out of the wall. The Hob goblins and goblins frowned as they felt their last shred of strength dissipate, whereas the frost troll and frost dwarves smiled. They knew what this meant.... their commander was back.

Doooooonnnnnn!

With a final large punch Findlay made his way through the wall that sealed him in. His fist punctured through the stone and dirt, collapsing the trap door, and revealing his dishevelled body and extensive injuries as well as his seriously pissed off face. He had to slowly drag his body up a damn chute in pitch darkness with only one good arm, he was practically livid.

Boom! With force he kicked the remaining wall and stepped out into the hallway, glaring at the now quivering hob goblins and goblins. The hob goblin commander appeared especially irksome to Findlay and received the majority of his bloodlust, instinctively causing its body to quiver in fear. With Findlay now here they had no chance of surviving this, even with his injured state nothing here was a match for him. Just the sight of this large monster upset the balance, quickly resulting in many deaths on Gobuske’s side but Findlay wanted to carve out a piece of flesh himself. He glared at the hob goblin commander and chose it as his target.

.....

Findlay quickly scanned the floor as his soldiers roared with joy at his return and proceeded to decimate their spirit broken opponents, he was looking for his prized axe that he dropped earlier. “There you are,” he quickly found it, still in place next to the shattered boulder. His soldiers didn’t allow the goblins to get their grubby little hands on his weapon, they did well.

With fire in his eyes Findlay picked up his massive great axe with his right hand and rested its weight upon his shoulders, enjoying its weight as though it was a part of him. He then turned to face his enemy. He spoke just a single word to his soldiers as he briskly moved in their direction. “Move!”

His soldiers smiled evilly, understanding that their commander wished to join the frontline and make these goblins pay for messing with them. They all obediently shifted to the side, allowing Findlay free passage toward the goblins as well as granting him a runway to pick up speed.

The hob goblin commander felt the stench of death pervade his entire body as though he’d been locked onto by an unstoppable predator, but he didn’t let that break him. Knowing that he was the target and that sending goblins at Findlay would be meaningless he valiantly moved ahead, separating himself from his men. He would face Findlay alone, avoiding meaningless deaths, at least for the short term. His men while he was being massacred could hopefully kill a few more of Frost’s monsters, that would be a victory in his eyes.

Though to say he wasn’t afraid would be a lie, the hob goblin commander’s every muscle was shaking, and his instincts were yelling at him to run. But he ignored them and walked forward, gradually picking up the pace until he was running.

One ice troll easily 4 metres tall charging at you was a frightening prospect even without the massive axe that he held above his head. Findlay noticed the hob goblin commander’s actions and couldn’t help but smile. ‘These hob goblins commanders are all really selfless and honourable, a worthy foe.’ His anger filled state was somewhat dissipated due to this, but his speed didn’t falter, in fact he picked up speed. The two of them would clash any second now.

“Rahhhhhhhhhhh!” With a mad roar full of martyrdom, the Hob goblin commander let loose his feelings and broke into a full on charge. His machete raised and poised to slash across Findlay’s chest, he wasn’t going down without a fight. He saw Findlay’s wounds and moved strategically, aiming to attack from his left side where his arm was broken and ribs severally damaged. He may just gain enough time to get in one good slice with his machete. If he could wound a high ranking C-rank monster, he could die happy.

Full of determination the hob goblin commander activated his buff skill on himself and utilised all of his potential to move with incredible speed. So much so that even the frost troll felt nervous seeing it. If it was on the end of that attack, would it be able to survive? Unlikely.

Findlay appreciated this hob goblin commander more and more, but he still needed to die. Not one to take it easy on opponents he respected, Findlay activated his enrage skill pumping his body with strength and expanding his frame before suddenly stomping down hard upon the stone floor, generating spider web like cracks. With the stomp he leaped upwards reaching several metres, his great axe was raised above his head, and he planned to smash it down, cleaving the hob goblin commander in twain with a single strike. All while imprinting the horror of his mighty strength in the minds of the remaining goblins as well as any dungeon cores that may be watching. He hadn’t a chance to really show off his true strength as of yet and now was a perfect opportunity.

Not expecting such a move, the hob goblin commander frowned before quickly stopping his charging momentum, bracing for the oncoming strike. Findlay was moving to quickly for him to dodge, plus the width of the room made evading really difficult so he had to take this blow and hope he didn’t die straight away. With dexterous skill the hob goblin tilted his machete in preparation for an upward slash.

“Die!” The hob goblin commander roared as he swung his machete at the oncoming Findlay, still aiming toward the left side where his wounds were the most grievous, but Findlay was prepared.

“[Axe slash]!” He filled his axe with energy causing it to release a blue shining beam as it came crashing down with Findlay’s entire body weight. The impact force would be even greater than the boulder trap. The hob goblin commander’s machete met with this blue beam and in the milliseconds of contact his weapon was snapped in half with the tip end being sent flying through the air and into the nearby wall.

The hob goblin commander’s only hope was now broken, and he knew it. The fractions of a second felt like an eternity as the hob goblin commander watched with bated breath and tense body as Findlay’s axe ushered ever closer, soon to reach the top of his head and cleave him in twain. His death was soon upon him. His loyal soldiers and even his king, Gobuske watched with tear filled eyes. Boundless respect for this hob goblin could be felt in each in everyone of them. Shame that his opponent was so much stronger, he never stood a chance. As the axe moved closer inch by inch, the hob goblin commander closed his eyes and chose to embrace his death....but that never came to pass

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