Sora Kurusu, The First Artificier

"This is not a great start..." As I tumbled onto the ground out of breath, my body almost becoming inanimate. After that fiasco yesterday with me awkwardly holding hands with my slave, we began discussing about our plans on what to do about the town up ahead. Within our viewing distance. While at the same time, we began boar hunting as proposed yesterday.

The current chief of the village was growing restless over some problemsmthat have risen. From what I've heard, there's a goblin settlement that was recently established nearby, a bandit gang was also spotted roving the merchant's road, and lastly, recent rumors have been flying that a dark elf roamed the streets of the village at night. Both the first news I believe, but an elf? and a dark one at that. This world is so strange, even for a fantasy world. It's like the human kingdoms put the demons over a higher priority other than bandits, and elves. Which begs me to think if they really are a big of a threat.

Then I spotted something on the tree, nothing too big. It was just my slave lightly sitting on a tree branch. Scouting the area, how would I know? She is doing the thing that most people would do when they can't see clearly by placing a hand above her eyes, preventing too much sunlight from dilating her view.

Then I looked at our sorry excuse of loot we've received over the entire course of 3 hours.

Three, undamaged boar tusks. It's tough enough to take a hit, but not stong enough to make one. And know I know why the boars swipe upwards before they end their charge briefly, instead of impaling my stomach.

Several rolls of neatly skinned boar leather sitting next to it. They aren't good, but it's better than nothing right? At the very least they'd do well as temporary cloaks.

And then the only good part of this hunt, It's meat. From 3, medium sized boars you'd probably wonder why they would result in almost 5 lbs. of meat after a series of precise butchering, and that's not including it's entrails.

With this kind of meat, if you dont ever got tired of eating the same thing for like the span of 3 months, it would just about last that long! And to a small village, like the one we are holed in, it's good enough to last a week without any over eating. I analyzed again what my slave was doing. And this time she's frantically practicing how to properly "use" a sword.

And not just any sword, but a greatsword almost twice as large as her height. And believe me, whatever she's doing to make herself age rapidly, she's already tall as me. And that's after a few weeks after that weird slave-trader gave her to me. To top it off, she had begun partaking in multiple sparrings with the Fenrir.

And that was last time that I'd watch a giant wolf fighting a little girl with a stick in his mouth, while the girl slashed around a long sword.

Aside from that, I've also discovered something else while looking at my "statistics page", which remain that name until further research. There were a few things that my statistics had that simply left me dumbfounded, even when I already have accepted the fact that I was in a RPG-fantasy world.

...

[Soul Taker]

Skill Grade: D-, Damage type: Necrotic, CD: 5 seconds, Duration: Instantaneous, Range: 30 meters

Verbal, Somatic, and optionally requires Materials.

Passive: Allows the collection of 'Soul Essence', which is released upon the death of any organic creature. If 'Soul Essence' is collected by the owner of this skill, or any of it's familiars, they will gain a small increase to their current stats, as well increase their capacity to gain them upon reaching an essence threshold.

The more this ability is used, and the more souls collected, this ability can level up.

Active: If any organic creature enters a weakened, critical state, or does not have enough hitpoints, they can be executed through soul rupture. Ripping out their "Soul" directly from their bodies. However, if the creature doesn't have enough hitpoints, their bodies will burn from the rupture. Leaving nothing organic behind.

If targetting inorganics, or higher health targets, they will suffer a Necrotic burn that scales with the amount of Mana spent and the collected "Soul essence" of it's caster.

...

'With this type of ability, I would have absolutely no trouble in terms of becoming the stronge-' I then entered a state of deep thought. Placing my index finger and thumb onto my chin. 'With an ability like this, I certainly would become stronger. But there are too many risks and problems to even cover! And not to mention...' I gave one long look at my slave, she stares back me, like she already could figure out what I was thinking.

'...Familiars could cast and benefit from it too, although familiars may not directly mean slaves. I mean, after what just happened with my interface earlier. It could still be the same possibility...' with an ability like this, I might already be considered a necromancer under the working service of demonic forces, attempting to slowly weaken the entire human empire from the inside.

But I'm pretty sure that the situation with them is already this bad because some are already inside. Or not, I don't f.u.c.kin' know. But whatever the case, my current goal on becoming a magical craftsman should now be underway. I've already mastered the basics on metal works, magic is still an all time low. And common knowledge and sense is somehow above that. So yeah, If I'm not mistaken I might be ready to take on-

A rustling from the bushes interrupted my thinking. I immediately undo my dagger from it's sheath, and pointed towards the bush. Was this gonna be another boar? Or was this gonna be another bandit? and believe me I'd love to test out some new skills that I attained from that geezer and his wolf.

Screaming out of the brush, a small green humanoid creature dashed towards me. It's a goblin, I tried and brace myself for some kind of attack, but it was crying in the most ugliest of fashions and spewing all other types of undesirable liquids in the process. It grabbed onto me and hid behind my back. "Hey! what are you doing?" It whimpered back in response.

Following after, a black-haired girl with a large sword came from the trees, standing right before me. "Master, I believe you have something that I own?" she coldly says. The goblin then toppled backwards. "w-Waits! please don't hurts me!" It responded.

My slave brandished her sword and began taking a thrusting stance, "You were attempting to c.a.r.e.s.s a girl in the middle of the forest, I'm pretty sure you need to get hurt..." her eyes stared at the goblin with killing intent, and right there I knew for sure that something must've happened between My slave and this goblin.

"Hold on just a minute..." I said, I looked behind at the goblin, who was now huddled over at the trunk of a tree. From experience I knew goblins were rarely Female, even in some rules of fantasy themed games, novels and several series, it was debated whether or not goblins are a male-only race, however, since several high-lords of fiction have had found hard-proof evidence. Myself included. We concluded that even their orcish brothers could reproduce with their own female counterparts, so female gobs could exist, although the birth rate of females for this race was debatable.

After all, It would make sense that a goblin would want to reproduce with a female of any other humanoid race for the lack of their own. But it was no guarentee that they would attempt to use violence or any other underhanded means to make sure they reproduce successfully.

"It was traditions of tribe's! We needs to picks pretties so tribe does not die!" It blurted out, it was sweating nervously. However, what interested me more was the fact that this goblin had the ability to speaking below the average human capability. It knew basic speech.

"A tradition eh?" I squat quietly on the ground, I motioned my slave to do the same but then: "B-but Master! Think clearly here! This vile creature attempted to touch me in s.e.n.s.i.t.i.v.e spaces of mine body! And you want to stop and talk like civilized men?" She began telling me off about my decision but then I motioned her to come close for a whisper, which she then reluctantly accepts. "I know that you must feel attacked. And I understand that you wish to express your concern for my safety. Or do you need to be reminded that you're also of the same status as this goblin?" I said cruelly.

As she stared at me silently, she could do nothing but simply sat down on both her knees. Sheathing the large sword back into it's scabbard. But she then sent me a telepathic message: 'I despise you...'

I shrugged it off.

The goblin's name is Nails. A name he obtained from killing a mighty forest deer with a boney knife, which resulted in making him the equivalent of what most kingdoms would refer to as, a crowned royalty. He was to be granted passage unto a.d.u.l.thood a day ago, if not for humans attacking and "freeing" their last woman. So for some goblins of higher standing, they must take on a quest to find another human woman and make her bring forth more children to the tribe. Which contributed much to my slave's anger. However, upon finding my slave, he did not expect her to be armed and most importantly, dangerously skilled. That which I must assess later with my slave. So he ran away from her, knowing well that his death would most likely be caused by her blade. However, he ran into me which lead him to where he is now, sitting with us enjoying some nice boar barbecue.

My slave kept her eyes on the goblin the entire time. She would always stare at him. Whenever he ate, drank, fending off a few killer rodents and even when he once went behind a bush to do a number 2. Much to her disp.l.e.a.s.u.r.e which thankfully ended her staring session. Then I asked about where he learned his human speech.

"I learns it from nice lady, she was my friends in old village. She came along withs me to teach me about humans speaking. We's was happy, tribe was happy..." A wave of sadness then overcame the goblin. And already I could tell what kind of sadness this was, the sadness that came from loss. And by loss, I mean the kind that people had when they watch someone they love, get murdered before them. Yet he showed no emotion, only a long, deafening silence. Right before his nose sniffed.

"Oh..." My slave reacted, she wasn't expecting this to have come from a lowly creature. Especially one that almost c.a.r.e.s.sed her. "Me was not trying to touch your friend, me was trying to talks with her..." And indeed, as he said that, flashes of the goblin's memory came to me. This was new. At first I only thought I could read the thoughts of my slave, but now, I saw the endless opportunities this could lead to. Each memory of his shown him thinking clearly, a little bit of anxiety was mixed in there because he never approached another human with ease before. Then came feelings of fear from him running away from my slave, and then a massive wave of sorrow recently washed over the shores of my mind when we discussed about his friend. Flashes of his past then appeared, disgusting human smiles came over as they indeed "Freed" his friend, with a single stroke of a sword. They wore the symbol of the Holy church of the West, the church that my friends are currently being support by.

'Hmmm, does he have...' and then it appeared like it came upon my command. There showed a memory of him taking up the necklace of the girl. Which I saw earlier on his neck when he came running towards me, there a dark shade of crimson and charcoal black type of emotion came about. A swirl of purplish hate stirred the mixture, and then poured onto his heart like an apple being candied in dark chocolate. Yes, a familiar feeling. And one that I have never felt in such a long time.

'Vengeance...'