Chapter 128: Vs Varkas

Kellan and Varkas collided almost instantly!

The young Fighter took the initiative, Garrick’s spear whipping outward with a sharp hiss as he activated <Sweeping Flurry> before Varkas could properly establish his preferred distance.

The opening strike came low toward the Chieftain’s knee before reversing toward his ribs, followed by another sweeping blow aimed high enough to force Varkas into choosing which section of his body he wanted to protect.

CLANG!

Varkas chose none of them.

The massive poleaxe shifted across his body like a wall, its reinforced shaft intercepting the spear with enough force to violently jar Kellan’s hands.

The second sweep met the broad axe head itself and stopped almost dead, Varkas barely shifting beneath the impact before twisting his wrists and shoving forward.

Kellan’s spear was knocked completely off line as Varkas stepped in.

WHOOOOOSH!

The great poleaxe swung horizontally through the air.

It wasn’t even a Skill, just raw strength, yet the weapon displaced enough air to flatten the nearby grass before the blade reached Kellan.

The teenager’s eyes widened as every instinct inside him warned that attempting to block would be an extremely educational way to discover what his own torso looked like in two pieces!

Kellan dropped immediately, the axe passing overhead with a deep roar as he rolled across the grass, using <Mobile> and his superior Agility to keep the movement tight rather than allowing momentum to carry him too far.

The instant his feet found the ground again, Kellan sprang upward and drove his spear forward in a jumping thrust aimed directly toward Varkas’s throat.

It was fast, clean, and much more decisive than anything he had attempted two hours earlier.

Varkas’s eyes sharpened.

Instead of retreating, he rotated his poleaxe and slapped the incoming spear aside using the flat of the enormous blade.

CLANG!

The sheer difference in strength sent Kellan’s weapon flying outward, yet Varkas never stopped moving.

His horizontal parry continued smoothly through the rotation, the poleaxe turning around his body before coming back toward Kellan in a vicious bisecting slash.

Damian’s eyes narrowed.

Oh boy, things had become very dangerous!

Kellan was still airborne and his spear had been knocked away from his centerline, meaning there was no leverage to block, no ground beneath his feet to dodge and barely enough time remaining to understand that the axe was coming.

For a normal Level 8 Fighter, that should have been the end.

Kellan, though, twisted his body, so instead of fighting the force that had knocked his spear aside, he surrendered to it completely.

His entire body spun through the air once, twice, then three times!

The poleaxe tore beneath him while Kellan transformed the failed attack into a bizarre aerial rotation, sailing directly over Varkas’s head before extending Garrick’s spear downward.

Varkas felt the shadow cross above him.

Kellan landed behind the Goblin Chieftain and immediately poured every bit of momentum from that triple rotation into one vicious thrust.

THRUST!

The spearhead shot toward Varkas’s spine!

Without even turning his head, Varkas moved the poleaxe behind himself.

CLANG!

The reinforced shaft caught the spear tip perfectly.

Kellan’s eyes widened as Varkas pushed backward, but the young man wisely did not challenge the strength behind it.

He immediately withdrew, taking several controlled steps until enough distance existed between them, then settled into stance with Garrick’s spear held before him.

His face became extremely serious when Varkas finally turned.

The Goblin Chieftain casually rolled one shoulder before hefting the great poleaxe back into position as though the opening exchange had barely qualified as exercise.

Kellan stared at him and finally understood.

Garrick had been stronger than Kellan was now, and not merely in Levels, but in terms of experience, technique, and battle sense.

The old man had spent decades using a spear and survived service in Rastia Kingdom’s frontier army before retiring to Otter Village.

Yet, Garrick had still lost.

Kellan had spent nights remembering that defeat as proof that Varkas was simply too powerful.

Now, after experiencing the Goblin Chieftain personally, he finally understood the more complicated truth.

Garrick had built himself as a strength-oriented spear Fighter.

His <Charger> Feat, his fighting style, the way he committed into <Pierce> and even his physical development had all emphasized decisive power behind technically excellent spear attacks.

Normally, that made perfect sense.

A long weapon backed by high Strength became horrifying.

Unfortunately, Varkas was an even more extreme Strength-type combatant.

The Goblin Chieftain’s entire fighting style revolved around overwhelming force, huge commitments and a weapon heavy enough to convert every successful clash into damage even when the blade itself failed to connect.

Garrick had fought Varkas on the exact battlefield where Varkas was strongest, and his old age had made that matchup even worse.

Kellan was different.

He had chosen <Mobile>, his Dexterity and Agility remained close behind his Strength rather than being sacrificed for raw power.

He was younger, lighter and considerably better balanced.

That was the only reason the first exchange had not already killed him.

Trying to overpower Varkas would be suicide!

But outrunning and outmaneuvering him?

That was possible!

Across the battlefield, Varkas was reaching a similar conclusion.

His eyes narrowed as he studied the young Human carefully.

The old spear wielder from Otter Village remained one of the most difficult opponents Varkas had faced in recent memory.

Garrick had been experienced enough to punish almost every mistake and skilled enough to leave a severe wound even while clearly past his physical prime.

But the old Human had possessed a terrible compatibility against him.

He had been too slow, too willing to contest direct force and too old to repeatedly recover from the impacts Varkas’s poleaxe created.

This boy, though, was troublesome!

Very troublesome!

He was smaller than Garrick, faster, more mobile, and despite his youth...

Varkas reluctantly judged him more naturally skilled.

Perhaps not more experienced and certainly not more polished, but his body seemed to understand the spear in a way that made adaptation disturbingly quick.

Two hours ago, the boy had barely survived his first elite warrior.

Now he was flipping over Varkas’s head after converting a failed aerial thrust into an escape!

Varkas tightened his grip.

If allowed to mature...

This Human boy would become terrifying!

Kellan began circling his foe with quick steps.

Varkas remained near the center, great poleaxe held diagonally before his body while his eyes followed the teenager with hawkish concentration.

Neither rushed to attack.

Kellan moved left and Varkas adjusted his lead foot.

Kellan stepped right, but then the poleaxe shifted several centimeters.

Then Kellan suddenly feinted forward and Varkas reacted exactly as the young man wanted.

The teenager exploded into motion and swept Garrick’s spear toward the Goblin’s left side.

Varkas parried easily.

CLANG!

Kellan’s weapon bounced away.

The Chieftain immediately raised his poleaxe to punish the opening, already beginning the counterattack that had ended similar exchanges against countless opponents.

Then something strange happened!

A translucent spear shadow appeared directly beside Kellan’s real weapon.

Varkas’s eyes widened.

<Double Strike>!

The Class Feat activated.

Kellan’s first sweep had already been parried, but the system-generated second strike had not.

SHUNK!

The spear shadow punched through Varkas’s hide armor and buried itself into his lower-right abdomen.

Purple-colored Dark Goblin blood immediately spread across the leather.

Varkas grunted as pain interrupted his counterattack.

Kellan’s eyes lit up.

An opening!

He stepped forward and drove one boot directly into Varkas’s face.

BAM!

The Goblin Chieftain skidded backward across the grass as Kellan simultaneously wrenched his spear free from the wound, tearing it wider and causing another stream of purple blood to spill down Varkas’s side.

Vesha screamed from behind them.

"FATHER!"

Paulina’s reaction was considerably more enthusiastic.

"YES! That’s it, Kellan! Kick his ass!"

Kellan heard her.

More importantly, he felt the result of his own attack.

He had wounded Varkas, and properly too!

His spear had entered the bastard’s body and his boot had sent him backward!

Confidence surged through the young man, who charged before Varkas could completely recover.

His spear thrust toward the Goblin’s shoulder, withdrew and immediately attacked the thigh.

Varkas barely managed to knock one aside with his poleaxe before shifting the heavy weapon to intercept another, all while keeping one hand pressed against the bleeding wound beneath his armor.

Kellan accelerated, striking at the throat, chest, knee, and face.

Every attack flowed into the next as he exploited the reach advantage of the spear, forcing Varkas backward while the Chieftain appeared increasingly unable to establish the leverage necessary for one of his devastating counterattacks.

Paulina shouted encouragement again, and Kellan almost smiled.

Then, his newly improved judgment from increased WIS blared the alarm.

Something was wrong!

Varkas was struggling a little too much.

Kellan had seen this creature block his full <Sweeping Flurry> without moving.

He had watched the Goblin casually knock his spear aside while airborne.

One abdominal wound did not explain why Varkas suddenly seemed barely capable of handling ordinary thrusts.

’Trap!’

Kellan immediately disengaged, kicking backward from the ground, spear retracting close to his body as he attempted to create distance.

Varkas smiled, the hand covering his wound dropped.

<Leaping Slash>!

BOOM!

The earth exploded beneath the Goblin Chieftain’s feet!

Kellan’s pupils contracted as Varkas crossed the retreating distance almost instantly, appearing above him with the great poleaxe raised in both hands.

The deception became obvious.

Varkas had deliberately allowed Kellan to believe the wound weakened him.

He had blocked just enough, retreated just enough, and shown enough difficulty to draw the young Fighter farther and farther into his effective range.

Then waited for him to realize the trap.

Because by that point...

It was already too late!

The enormous axe descended, and Kellan knew immediately that blocking was impossible.

The weight of the weapon itself, Varkas’s crazy Strength, and the force added by <Leaping Slash>.

If Garrick’s spear met that attack directly, either the shaft would be severed in half or the impact would continue through the weapon and break both of Kellan’s arms before burying the axe into his body anyway.

Dodging was also impossible as Kellan had already committed to the backward leap.

There was no ground beneath his feet from which to change direction.

The axe filled his vision, and death approached from above.

Yet strangely...

Kellan’s mind became calm.

Grandpap had taught him this too.

There were moments in battle where retreat disappeared, when defense failed, and when every safe path closed at once.

At such times, a Fighter did not waste his final heartbeat wishing the situation were different.

Rather, one must find the smallest opening inside death itself!!

Kellan changed his grip, his spear tilting upward.

Rather than defend against Varkas’s axe...

He aimed directly at the Goblin’s throat!

Damian’s eyes flashed.

Good!

Varkas saw the spear tip and his expression changed instantly.

If he continued the original <Leaping Slash>, Kellan would almost certainly die.

But... so would he.

The spear’s angle was perfect.

Kellan might lose his upper body, but Varkas would land with a steel spear driven straight through his throat and probably out the back of his neck.

An equal exchange, a life for life.

Varkas had no intention of accepting it, though, and not because he feared death.

His own survival had stopped mattering the moment Damian offered the second condition.

But Kellan’s death?

That would destroy everything!

The Human had sworn no real oath, no divine contract nor any system-bound agreement.

Nothing prevented Damian from simply deciding afterward that Varkas had angered him and killing Vesha anyway.

The first win condition was bait.

Perhaps genuine bait, and perhaps not.

Varkas did not care.

The second path was the only one he trusted.

Push the boy to the brink and earn his daughter’s survival!

His eyes hardened as the descending poleaxe changed trajectory.

Instead of continuing directly downward toward Kellan’s skull and chest, Varkas twisted his entire body in midair and converted the finishing blow into a diagonal cut.

The choice saved his throat, barely.

Kellan’s spear missed the original target as Varkas shifted, but momentum still carried the weapon forward.

SHUNK!

The spearhead punched into Varkas’s upper chest, going in deep, far too deep!

It tore through hide armor, flesh and rib before piercing one lung!

Varkas coughed painfully, purple blood erupting from his mouth.

At the same moment...

SLASH!

The poleaxe tore across Kellan’s body from left shoulder to right hip.

"AAAAAAARGH!"

Kellan screamed.

The blow failed to bisect him only because Varkas had deliberately redirected and weakened the attack at the final moment, but that did not make it gentle.

The massive blade ripped open armor, flesh and muscle in one hideous diagonal wound while the remaining force smashed through Kellan’s body and displaced organs beneath the impact.

Blood sprayed across the grass as Kellan was thrown sideways like a ragdoll.

His spear tore free from Varkas’s chest as both fighters separated violently.

He landed badly, somehow managed to keep one knee beneath himself and immediately regretted remaining conscious.

Pain swallowed everything.

His left shoulder felt as though someone had driven a heated saw through it.

The gash crossing his chest and abdomen poured blood faster than Kellan could comprehend, while something deep inside his torso felt terribly wrong, as if the organs beneath the wound had been shoved from where they belonged.

His vision flickered, and breathing became difficult.

Kellan tried gripping Garrick’s spear properly and discovered that one hand barely responded.

Still...

He did not fall completely.

Across from him, Varkas landed on both feet.

For half a second, the Goblin Chieftain seemed considerably better, then his body folded.

"KHACK!"

Purple blood splattered onto the grass.

Varkas pressed one hand against his upper chest where Kellan’s spear had entered, but the wound was too deep for pressure to accomplish much.

Each breath produced a faint wet sound from inside his chest, while more dark-purple blood escaped between his fingers and stained the front of his armor.

One lung had been punctured, and that was a fatal wound.

It wouldn’t kill him instantly.

But without healing, Varkas’s life was essentially on a short countdown till he suffocated on his own blood.

Kellan was not much better.

He remained kneeling several meters away, blood pouring down his ruined armor while his face became progressively paler.

Every heartbeat seemed to force more warmth from his body, and the sheer trauma of the poleaxe strike had left him struggling to even focus his eyes.

Neither had won, not yet.

But both fighters were now on the inevitable road to death!