Sigurd sat on a stone in silence, waiting for Eva. His sonar could detect people and enemies, but they wouldn't cause pain like enemies.
"Eva? You're late."
"How am I late!? You rushed off and left me alone!"
He turned towards Eva, enjoying how lovely she looked in the blue robes while holding her spear. Since spending a week together, he felt spending time with women wasn't so bad.
'Though I should prepare better next time.'
Eva still couldn't beat him, but her melee attacks were stronger, and he noticed that her control over her water element was improving. He wouldn't be in trouble with her protecting his back and sides.
"The Hall of the Spires."
Sigurd stood up, taking the lead once more. This seemed to be the old name for this area. Just above the cave, a huge mountaintop with spiral-shaped peaks continued for miles.
"Are you not going to apologise?"
Eva followed behind him, puffing out her cheeks as she tapped the stone spear on the ground. Sigurd looked back at her with a wicked smile. He knew she meant this morning, but he could feel her breathing change when he woke up.
"Hmmm, you should have just taken what you wanted. Erotic elf."
"Y-you!!!"
Her pale cheeks went crimson red, and her fist tightened on the spear shaft.
Sigurd's smile grew larger before his instincts warned him of danger. With the flick of his left hand, he created a very weak bolt of Noctra that shot towards the cave, stopping the arrow aimed at Eva's chest.
'Tsk, goblins have no sense of timing! What are they doing in that cave?'
Eva's body jolted when the arrow appeared from nowhere. He didn't explain but positioned himself ahead, blocking the dark green arrowhead.
'Hmmm, poison-tipped.'
"Sigurd! How many?"
"At least twenty, more in the depths—they are strong but weaker than the orcs, six archers with poison arrows. Take care, Eva."
"Understood!"
He walked up to the cave entrance, all the magic inside his body constantly dancing to his tune.
The anger at the sudden attack, his libido, and the feeling of avarice to make Eva his, allowing him to knead, thread, and transform the magic into several shapes as if forming the spells inside his body: several small spikes, bolts, and a couple of balls, likely the Noctra blast reagents.
'It's strange... like my body knows how to do this, like second nature, even more than when learning the sword. It feels so natural.'
The goblins had already prepared more arrows and released them.
A slew of whistling arrows curved through the air at high speed as Sigurd turned his hand, forming seven sharp spikes above him, with his arm across his chest, grasping tight, before throwing it towards them and sending the emerald shards of fire and black ice slicing through the air.
'So powerful...'
The small shards quickly broke through the arrowheads, bursting into the cave entrance and ripping the goblins into shreds, the same as when fighting the orcs. It seemed Sigurd's magic surpassed normal witches even when on the same level. He desired knowledge of the devils and their abilities.
'A half devil... Will Lilith speak to me again? I doubt Medea will tell me.'
Eva didn't wait for his orders as she darted forward like a fairy, her nymph-like steps on the ground tapping with each stride before her long spear met the goblin warriors holding clubs and mangy leather armour.
They had pale green skin, big ears and small faces, much like the orcs but not as refined. However, even a goblin could easily pass as a human child. Eva spun around, her spear a blur as she parried, stabbed, and swept through their arms, legs and faces.
Sigurd noticed that a small icy layer protected her along her blade and hands while making her blade even deadlier.
'Is this the way a half-elf fights against Agmar? Or can she be reckless, thanks to our oath and my help to remove the poison from the meat?'
Sigurd stepped up, his large six ring broadsword domain lashing out from side to side, dividing one goblin after the other, draining them of blood and mana. Which filled Sigurd's emptying magic rapidly—even though his body felt stabbing pains, he realised the pain faded after enduring it nearly thirty times. 'Is it my devil's blood adjusting my body to accept it without pain? Or does Eva feel the same?'
However, looking at her face, her eyebrows furrowed, and she bit her lips each time she killed more than one goblin. The pain still existed, allowing her to use magic without worry.
"Hmmm!?"
Sigurd felt a burning sensation in his chest from the sonar system and realised that a goblin shaman had targeted them with a fire spell!
His eyes became serious; rather than shouting out to disturb Eva, who fought against the goblins in combat, her disturbed focus could lead to death; he dashed forward—the flames growing rapidly as a small ball of fire formed at the tip of a hidden goblins staff.
Sigurd fused all the magic shapes inside his body, and the small shards transformed into pure black spears. It seemed strange that he could form such things inside him, but the magic didn't appear in his physical body but in his spiritual one.
In a rush, he pushed his left hand forward, a feeling of weight and pressure assaulting his arm, pins and needles, followed by a tingling sensation as he released four sharp black ice lances. The black colour of his magic wasn't a solid, but an extreme ice!
—Lanza Del Pernio! (Lance of Chilblains)
Unlike the shards of ice, these spears howled through the air with a booming noise. The flames attempted to melt them, a burst of sound as they collided.
But in an instant, the flames vanished in a burst of steam, and the shaman's body, impaled twice, went flying into the wall, blood flooding from its wounds and lips.
"GRAAGGG!"
"Huuu..."
Sigurd let out a breath, feeling weak at the knees as his vision grew blurry, falling to one knee as he watched Eva. Her spear flashed through the last goblin warrior, ending the fight, while their bodies dissolved into bloody mist.
"Sigurd!!"
The feeling of being pressed down left Sigurd's body. His breathing became easier, and his body relaxed as pure magic enveloped the pair. Once again, he felt this battle was too easy and that, eventually, they would struggle.
So, not for a second did he drop his focus. In the depths of this cave, many enemies still awaited their descent.
"Eva, we don't have time to dwell. Our attack has disturbed the nest, and many goblins are preparing to attack us. We should quickly recover. Take two of their bows and whatever arrows you can."
"Un? Why would we need them?"
"We have no weapons to hide and assassinate. Arrows and a bow should allow us to pick off anyone in a wide area. Not to mention you're an elf... though sorry you have to use such a crude goblin bow."
"I understand."
Eva shook her head, heading off scavenging around for arrows while she picked to best two bows.
Sigurd stayed on his knee, allowing the magic to enter his body to recover; though it might take a little longer to become his power, he lacked that luxury and tried to rush it despite the pain it caused.
Like having hundreds of daggers poking and piercing his veins and organs.