Chapter 62

Dafur left the tent completely baffled. He could not believe his luck. Of all the goblin's camp, of all the tents, he had found Lucifer's one.

Was it luck? Was it something different? Who cared anyway?

He absentmindedly knocked down two goblins who walked by him.

They snarled and attacked him, but Dafur hastily pulled out a token, a small smoothened elliptical bone engraved with a big eye, very much like the one belonging to Shul-Gahat, the lake octopus-like Monster.

"Bring mea to shaman! Now!" He barked at them. He had a certain standing now... at least with the goblins.

They abruptly stopped and started to profusely perspire as they stared at the token. They growled an apology and one of them grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the big tent.

A fire of passion returned to Dafur's eyes. For the first in many days, he had hope! He had to get rid of the Tropa Snake's poison, but there should be some antidote.

Somewhere. Maybe. Hopefully.

Dafur realized he should not have the hope written all over his face. He had to pretend for now. And when the time came, he would rip the shaman apart, limb by limb.

The fiendish emotions written on his face were quickly hidden behind a facade of servitude.

The central tent was being slowly reconstructed by the many goblin slaves. They had stripped the first floor to its frame, removing most of the leather walls. The staircase in the middle was enlarged and straightened.

The tables overflowing with meats of 'unknown origin', mushrooms, moss, and kegs of grog. Dafur refused to even think of the meats' source.

Several 1st-tier slaves served their 2nd-tier masters who sat on leathery blankets, fitted to comfort them. Some of them smoked moss while laughing, stuffing their mouths with the meat between puffs

The second floor gained another layer added to the wall, this time from much more sturdier black leather. Dafur estimated it was from a swarm of 3rd-tier Monsters.

The goblins swarmed like ants onto the top floor, building up the third floor.

Dafur and the two goblins trudged through the 'bar' without anybody even raising their eyes.

The two goblins halted before a 3rd-tier elite goblin, guarding the staircase. He was around 1.8 metres tall, had massive muscles, tattooed arms and a mean expression. The guard scrutinized them, snorted, and did not move an inch.

Only after Dafur showed him the token, did he let him go up, disgruntled.

The two goblins wanted to follow him, but a heavy kick from the guard sent them flying towards the table with several broken bones.

The second floor was very clean... At least by goblin standards. Anyone else would contract a few diseases from a mere glance.

The floor was compartmentalized into three similar-sized rooms plus a small landing around the staircase.

The first room was tightly guarded by two 3rd-tier elites, almost identical to the one Dafur had met downstairs, with the same tattoos on their arms.

One of them grabbed Dafur by his shoulder and pinned him to the ground, while the second one went to inform their leader.

"Rel… release mea! I'm her for Shaman-Ganra!" He struggled to free himself, but the large goblin ignored him. "Dornus ass! Release mea!" Dafur yelled and squirmed until the second guard returned. He simply nodded at the first one, and they let him go inside.

"Bastards…" Dafur could only hatefully look at them.

They laughed him off and one of them harshly pushed him towards the second room. Dafur stumbled and face-planted himself before the door.

"Slave! Right on time! Bring us some meat and water! Then we'll proceed with yar 'lessons'," the shaman ridiculed Dafur.

The dwarf secretly grimaced, but as he slowly stood up, he put up an expression filled with despair. It visibly pleased the shaman.

"This is the one you were talking about?" Dafur heard a coarse, impassive voice.

A goblin sat near the shaman at a wooden table. He was thin, appearing almost malnourished, but had a powerful aura around him.

Dafur gasped. That was clearly a 4th-rank! A Monster that abandoned evolution! What was happening here?

"Yea, little friend! This is mae new experiment! He's able to connect to mana crystals. Imagine that!" The druegar shaman excitedly boasted.

Dafur eyes twitched with the words 'slave' and 'experiment'. A wave of humiliation washed over him, but he suppressed it, keeping an expressionless face.

"I cannot afford to lose my temper again! Calm yarself!" He inwardly repeated to himself like a mantra. The last time he lost it, he was forced to drink something disgusting. He didn't know what it was, but he had felt incredible pain for hours.

"Yea, master. I'll be right back," Dafur obediently replied and jogged for the meat and water.

"Ha! Obedient! I like that! Want to sell?" He hears the goblin's muffled. He did not hear the answer but hoped that the shaman disagreed. He doubted he would survive for long under the goblin's care.

For the first time, he realized that the situation could be even worse. This single thought scared him to hell, making him shiver. He'd rather ponder on more hopeful things… like Stone and his Partner.

"Lucifer, right?" When he thought about it, it was quite strange for a Partner to control the body. At least he never heard something like this happen. Even though there was not that much Unclassified information about Partners, it seemed odd.

The 3rd-tier goblins stared at him with derision and disgust, reserved only for slaves and inferior trash.

Dafur ignored them, but he reddened from another wave of shame. "This can't go on! I need to run or die tryin! Soon! Gah! But first the ash from mana-ashwood… But how?"

He served them and silently listened to their quite interesting conversation.

"We still do not have enough. A few bands refused to bend, so we had to eliminate them. Further areas are guarded by the Army of the Abyss. What about your village?" The goblin swiftly changed the topic.

"Hmm!" The shaman gulped, then continued, "I am trying to pull the villagers to mae side. More and more come to mea or show some kind of support. The chief's fightin core already betrayed him for mea."

"Jarka?" The goblin pointed in the way of the Jarka's tent.

"Yea. I sent her and two of her team members on a hunt with one of yar elite warpack to the below-floor."

"Good. How long until you will be able to subdue the whole village? Why don't you kill the chief directly anyway?" The goblin inquired.

The shaman's face contorted, "because he's strong! He's a fuckin 5th-tier warrior! And he still has wide support! And for the control of the village... Don't ya worry, just increase yar own strength and numbers. I will try to silently send some architects to help ya make a fort out of this place!" His aura swelled up, "but don't forget! Ya owe me yar life and everything ya have! I can take it back whenever I wanna!" The shaman's aura exploded with mana, rattling with vials and apparatuses, while he calmly chewed another bite.

"Yes, yes… Of course, boss!" The goblin hastily replied as he perspired.

Meanwhile, Dafur's head spun from the amount of information. Especially the last word. "Boss! Did he just say boss?! But that means… Dornus ass! Fuckery! There is much more at play!" He inwardly swore.

As they conversed, Dafur carefully scanned the room. Flasks, vials, tubes, and other tools from glass and porcelain that an alchemist would require were neatly positioned on a large table on the other side of the room.

The table itself was engraved with a simple celestian alphabet, arranged into a circle, on top.

The left wall was lined with crates, refitted as crude cabinets. They were packed with herbs, distilled waters and a few vials with differently-coloured liquids. This… This was exactly what he wanted.

On the farthest cabinet, he saw labeled small pouches. It was too far for him to read it.

So he quietly shifted step by step towards it. He eyed the shaman and goblin, praying to Paragons for his actions to be unnoticed.

His prayers were listened to. They did not even register him moving and he successfully read the description written with blood.

"Mana-Oakwood ash, naet! Mana-Irondust, naet! 2nd-tier heart, 2nd-tier bone dust, the skin of Tropa Snake, dried Glowing Mushroom, unknown moss…" he slowly went over each of the pouches. The last was the right one, "Mana-Ashwood ash! Yes!"

"Oh, you have a curious one!" The goblin exclaimed right behind him.

Dafur's heart skipped a beat.

"I… I'm sorry!" Dafur shrieked in fright. He had to play it right. Otherwise, they would catch that something was wrong.

"Ah, sorry about that. He's a new one. I still didn't learn him proper manners."

"Should I take care of it?" The goblin sadistically grinned. Dafur knew that the crooked smile did not spell anything good for him.

"Naet. Do ya have a sturdy table here?"

" Yes, boss. Guards!" The goblin yelled and the guards immediately entered the room. "Take him to the laboratory!"

The laboratory was nothing more than a room with a massive, steel table in the middle and a small table near it with crude iron tools smeared with dried blood.

The guards strapped Dafur and the shaman leisurely walked next to him. The dwarf shivered. He hated these… lessons.

"Where do we start?" The goblin impatiently questioned as he grabbed a rusty knife.

The shaman infused his dagger and poked around the embedded crystals, drawing blood.

Dafur sharply inhaled as the pain shot from the wounds to his whole body.

The shaman commenced his lecture. They had to put a gag on Dafur's mouth after he bit off the guard's finger.