Sparring and Experimenting

In contrast to their free-roaming brethren above ground, the Goblins birthed by the dungeon had a rather uncomplicated life cycle.

Instead of pillaging random villages, they spawned from the walls of the dungeon, took a moment to stretch their scrawny limbs, and then promptly got wrecked by even the most amateur Level 1 adventurers.

With brains wired for nothing but mindless aggression and a complete lack of self-preservation, they were the dungeon's best equivalent to houseflies.

As such, using the little green guy in front of me as a sparring partner could be considered an improvement in his overall condition.

Goblin No.3 as I had begun calling him in my mind, showed no gratitude as he continued to try to tear off chunks of my flesh.

Whereas yesterday I might have struggled to fend off its attacks, getting wounded in the process, now I could almost dance around the tiny monster, dodging its poorly aimed attacks.

I sidestepped its lunges, its claws grazing empty air. I anticipated its next moves, pivoting as I narrowly avoided its follow-up strikes.

From time to time, when its movements became too quick to evade entirely, I pushed it away with a casual flick of my forearm, creating the space I needed to breathe. After all my actual speed wasn't all that impressive yet.

Agility: 13 - 25 (I) 

Even after my struggle against the Kobold, while I felt swifter than before, I still had some way to go to become superhuman. Instead, the improvement I could feel most clearly was in my ability to control my body.

Playing sports was one of my hobbies back on earth, and since I was always a bit of a tryhard, learning to control my movements was the bare minimum to not injure myself.

After years of trial and error, it wasn't unexpected that my dexterity improved. This, coupled with the fact that gaining attribute points in one's basic abilities seemed to improve upon what was originally present...

Dexterity: 12 - 34 (I)

...poor Goblin No.3 didn't stand a chance.

With each strike I deflected, each blow I evaded, the goblin's frustration visibly grew. It growled as it lunged and swiped, desperate to land a hit, but I remained unscratched, my movements relaxed and fluid.

I didn't quite believe it the first time I fought one, but the title of "The weakest monster in the Dungeon" was practically handcrafted for them.

It was like playing with a kitten. A kitten made of teeth and claws, trying to kill me...like a normal stray one to be honest.

After a few more minutes of trying and failing to rip me to shreds, the Goblin finally began to tire.

"I guess that's enough, don't you think?", I asked the green critter as its attacks became progressively more sluggish and telegraphed. Even its snarls had stopped as it huffed and puffed like a steam engine running out of coal.

Even so, the manic rage behind its eyes didn't wane one bit. If anything, it grew stronger as it comprehended that death wasn't far away. Despite its ragged breaths and drooping posture, there was still a stubborn determination in the way it stood.

I wondered if all monsters were as Gung Ho as this lil guy, but I would probably find out as I ventured deeper.

With a sigh and one final sweep of my leg, the Goblin was on the floor. In contrast with the first time I kicked one of his kin, the goblin didn't get up this time.

Power: 22 - 31 (I)

Endurance: 15 - 27 (I) 

It wasn't an exciting fight, nor did I learn too much from it, but now I had a better understanding of how much my barely increased attributes strengthened me. Know thyself and thy enemy and you will maybe not die, or so a wise man once said.

It was a sobering thought I had during my training with the gob, realizing that my physicality would most likely surpass Olympic athletes back on earth after a few days at the rate I was going.

"The benefits of getting yeeted across dimensions, am I right?"

The tired goblin growled something which to me sounded like a clear approval.

"You, my friend, are a wise goblin" I praised as I kicked its head once more. There were no more growls after that.

I walked towards where its comatose body had rag-dolled, thinking about my next experiment. If it worked, and I hoped it would, I wouldn't have to waste time after every single fight, finding a hiding place and gorging myself on monster parts. It didn't, well, it wasn't like I would lose much.

As I reached the goblin, my human nails elongated and sharpened, transforming into the black claws that were now a part of me. I looked down at the creature lying in front of me.

I bent down toward it, remembering the last goblin I butchered, and decided on the optimal place to strike.

Then, with as much speed as I could physically muster, I embedded my clawed hand deep into the monster's back.

My claws tore through its skin and flesh like it was paper, and I felt the wet squelch as my fingers pierced through its chest and into its thorax, splintering some ribs in the process.

The goblin screamed in pain as blood gushed through its mouth like a river. Clearly, the anesthesia I provided earlier wore off as inhuman pain wrecked whatever semblance of a nervous system it had.

I didn't pay him any mind though, since my fingers had already grasped what I was searching for.

With a grunt, I pulled my hand out of the goblin's chest cavity. It came out with a sickening crunch, grasping within it a small, glowing pebble.

The goblin's magic stone, its literal life battery.

It didn't scream anymore, maybe realizing that it was already dead. Goblin No.3 simply lay sprawled on the floor, in a growing pool of its own blood.

A monster losing their magic stone wasn't an uncommon thing. In fact, the easiest and most clearcut way to kill any dungeon-spawned monster was to destroy the magic stone which almost always could be found within their chests. Following that, the unfortunate monster would turn to dust in the next few seconds, and their energy (and maybe some of their memories) would be recycled by the Dungeon, and used once more to give birth to new monsters. It was an almost perfect cycle.

Why "almost"?

Well, as Goblin No.3 could attest to, the death following the removal or destruction of a monster's magic stone wasn't instantaneous. There was a gap of a scant few seconds seconds in-between.

And...

*Gulp*

Eating a small, pebble-sized magic stone took me barely a second.