Becoming Both

After washing up, I felt alive again. While the water on my wounds hurt, it also felt invigorating.

I then proceeded to lay down a towel on Hestia's bed so as to not get blood all over it. She then proceeded to perform the ritual

<Stat Growth Calculated>

<Sub-Magic: Goblin Form Evolved into Peak Goblin Form>

"That is either the most handsome goblin I have ever seen or someone painted their body green for some odd reason"

Medium stat increase corresponding to a goblin's stat distribution and an innate understanding of battle (Scale based on LV1)

· Strength: Medium

· Endurance: Low

· Dexterity: Medium

· Agility: High

· Magic: N/A

<Sub-Skill: Primal Understanding of Combat(Goblin) refined into Primal Understanding of Combat( Peak Goblin) >

<Acquired Skill: Berserker>

"Sometimes my blood just boils and all I see is red. When I eventually calm down all I see is still red, except this time it's my enemy's blood."

Provides a boost to all stats at the cost of the user's logic and reason

<Lost Item: Beginner Chest Plate>

<Lost Item: Beginner Knife>

<<Status>>

<Lv.1>

<Stats>

Strength: D 599

Endurance: D 599

Dexterity: D 599

Agility: D 599

Magic: D 599

<Magic>

Take Over(Monster)

· Peak Goblin

<Skills>

Weakest Link

Berserker

Primal Understanding

· Combat: Peak Goblin

<Equipment>

N/A

After that it was sleeping in the bathtub to avoid getting blood on the couch. The next morning, I woke up sore and in pain, but my wounds were a little better. However, I knew that I need bandages and medicine, or I was risking an infection. There was only one problem with that, the Hestia familia did not have bandage and medicine money. I also needed clothes and equipment if I wanted to progress in the dungeon.

So, the next three weeks involved me going into the dungeon and bullying the weak goblins on floor one.

Let me tell you people do look at you funny when you walk down the street wearing nothing but wounds. I paid them no mind because if I let embarrassment consume me, I would die of an infection. While fighting goblins naked got me a few weird looks and felt very strange, it was possible. Though only because of the massive disparity in stats. Otherwise, my wounds would have hindered me too much.

I eventually got enough money for medicine, bandages, clothes, and equipment. There was just one major problem, they were all the cheap kind.

My bandages and clothes were not too bad. They were uncomfortable, but manageable.

However, the medicine was only enough to stave off infection, but did little else. As a result, my wounds healed slow and left nasty scars. I personally think the scars add character, but other would be horrified as I am virtually wearing a shirt of scar tissue. Thank the gods that the beast prioritized his senses and protected my face, thus I only have a few small scars there.

Hestia assures me they will fade more and more as I level up, but I personally hope they don't. my scars are a reminder of what I've been through, what I survived. While They are a reminder everyday of my greatest failure, losing control. They are also a reminder of my greatest victory, surviving in a situation where most would have failed and died.

My equipment was what gave me the most concern. All I could afford was a pig iron sword.

My equipment left me in a bad position as I needed to choose between taking a risk and fight the goblin shaman while hoping my sword does not break or keep farming goblins and saving up money. If I succeeded, I would have the funds to buy a decent sword and I would have the opportunity to farm the kobolds. Which would be extremely beneficial I would make more money than farming goblins. Which would in turn allow me to save up money faster.

I decided to risk it as I was feeling confident. The reason I was feeling confident was because when I was cleaning the upstairs church during my free time while healing up, I encountered a book. The book was some wandering adventurer's diary and as I was bored, I decided to read it.

In the diary it details the man's style, you see he believe that the essence of swordsmanship was to combine sheer power with complete control. It must have been fate as it solved many of my problems. It showed me how to fight like a man instead of a beast, but it also showed me how to combine the beast's power with the man's control. It gave me the foundation on which to build every other aspect of my style.

The most critical thing it taught me was how to channel the beast's ferocity so that it fuels the man's engine of will. Now this does not mean that I will never lose control again, but it does mean that it will be harder to lose control and easier to regain it. It also gave me hope that one day the man and the beast will become one.