The kobold hisses and takes a defensive stance. I decide to engage it first, lunging forward with my spear. Just as I close the distance, the slime on its shoulder launches a small rock at me. I twist my body, dodging the projectile, but it catches me off guard with the rapid speed of the projectile. The kobold uses this momentary distraction to slash at my side.
My armor absorbs most of the impact, but I can feel the force behind the blow.
“Why is a slime so good at spitting rocks, though?!” I mutter, stepping back to reassess the situation and my best course of action.
The firefly buzzes around erratically, its light growing brighter. Suddenly, it releases a blinding flash. I instinctively close my eyes and raise my arm to shield myself, but the brilliance still leaves me momentarily dazzled. I hear the kobold rushing in and manage to parry its attack at the last second, feeling the scrape of its blade against my spear.
Recovering from the flash, I decide to take out the slime next. It might be the weakest link in this trio. I feint towards the kobold, then pivot and thrust my spear towards the slime. The kobold tries to protect its tiny ally, but my superior speed and strength are too much for it to handle. The spear pierces through the slime’s gelatinous body, nailing the core perfectly.
It bursts in a splatter of goo and rocks.
With one enemy down, I turn my attention back to the kobold. It snarls, enraged by the loss of its companion. It attacks more aggressively, but its movements are now predictable. I block its strikes and wait for an opening. When it overextends, I drive my spear straight through its chest, impaling the lizard-like creature on my weapon.
The kobold gasps, its eyes wide with shock, as it desperately attempts to pull my spear out of its gaping chest in an instinctual motion to battle against its already decided fate until its last breath. I oblige and pull my spear out, resulting in a blood fountain.
The kobold clutches at the wound in an attempt to fill up the hole and stop the river of red from leaving its host’s body, until it finally falls face first onto the ground and never moves again.
The firefly, now alone, emits a high-pitched whine and darts around in a panic. I quickly dispatch it with a swift strike, its light flickering out as it falls. This monster seems to be unique in that it can’t really deal damage on its own. This is the first example I see of such an occurrence.
I take a moment to catch my breath and wipe the slime off my spear. The synergy between these three was surprisingly efficient, but not enough to overcome the significant difference in our stats and gear.
We blitz through the third floor in a similarly dominant fashion, especially since after the first initial chamber Ayame joins in on the ongoing massacre. We don’t waste time as we dispatch monster after monster.
By far the most difficult combination of possible encounters is when there’s one of each monster which allows them to work in tandem, creating a synergy which makes me think that they are a single life form with how good they function together.
When there’s three kobolds they are basically slightly buffed goblins, their simple knives and slings proving no difficulty as we easily dispatch them.
Similarly when rock slimes are just as useless without the protection of the other two. I just have to be careful of them spitting projectiles and the rest comes naturally.
The thing I’ve been waiting for finally happens; three of those fireflight type monsters emerge in the next chamber we find ourselves in.
I’ve been wanting to find out whether the labyrinth would be intricate enough to realize that it’s a free chamber and prevent three of them from spawning together, but either the Goddess didn’t put enough effort into the creation of the labyrinths or just didn’t care enough to put in some safety measures against this occurrence.
It’s not like I would say that she had committed a big blunder, after all, no one really cares if one out of the thousands of chambers an explorer visits through their career is free XP and loot. After all, I can’t imagine this being a regularly appearing phenomenon. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom
Soon we find ourselves in the waiting queue for the floor 3 boss fight. This time only one team is ahead of us besides the party that’s already inside, showing just how quickly the number of explorers dissipates as we move to harder and harder floors.
our turn arrives in a swift fashion and a creature almost as tall as me greets us; an evolved version of the kobold monster. What a pity, I was really curious how the fireflight boss type would’ve functioned. My lovely companion informs me that it’s a Kobold Chieftain, yes, that’s an official race name, not just a position meaning tribe leader.
In the wild supposedly a kobold can evolve into a chieftain type after becoming the leader of a tribe with at least a hundred kobolds accepting it as their leader. Naturally, that procedure involves beating all its challengers.
The Kobold Chieftain stands at nearly six feet tall, a massive and imposing figure compared to its smaller counterparts. His scaly red skin has darkened and toughened, giving him a more rugged and armored appearance. Sharp, curved horns protrude from his head, and his yellow eyes glow with a malevolent intelligence.
He wields a large, jagged sword in one hand and a spiked shield in the other, both crafted from some dark, enchanted metal. A tattered cloak drapes over its broad shoulders, and various crude jewelry and trinkets adorn its body.
Honestly the King Crane looked a lot more imposing but with the Kobold Chieftain’s equipment I can easily see him demolishing the crane in a duel even if they had the same levels.
Ayame and I step into the boss chamber, and the air grows heavy with a palpable sense of danger. In the end a boss monster is a boss monster, after all. They are on a completely different plane of existence from their common counterparts.