Chapter 563 - 502: Blood Crystal, Uninvited Guests

Chapter 563: Chapter 502: Blood Crystal, Uninvited Guests

Roland expressionlessly withdrew his blood-soaked arm from the goblin’s corpse, the slick, wet sound enough to make one’s skin crawl.

He didn’t spare the fallen enemy a single glance, his sharp eyes sweeping across the battlefield.

"Holland, focus!"

His deep voice cut through the blood-filled air, clear and calm.

The warning snapped Holland out of his shock. An instant later, he saw another goblin take advantage of the opening, swinging its Hand Axe at Roland’s unguarded back.

"Look out!"

The Priest’s warning had barely left his lips when Roland was already in motion.

He didn’t even fully turn. He simply whipped his left arm back like a lash, his elbow striking the wrist of the goblin’s axe-wielding hand with pinpoint precision.

With a sharp CRACK, the wrist bone shattered, and the Hand Axe went flying from its grasp.

Roland twisted with the motion, his right hand forming a claw. His fingers, like steel pincers, clamped onto the goblin’s muscular neck and viciously slammed it downward.

THUD!

The back of the goblin’s head smashed hard against a jutting rock. The muffled crunch of its skull fracturing came at the same time as the stone’s vibration.

Its limbs convulsed violently for a moment before it fell still.

Seeing this, a flicker of Fear finally appeared in the third goblin’s eyes. It abandoned its attack on Holland, shrieked, and turned to flee.

Roland kicked off the ground, raising a small cloud of dust as his figure shot forward like an arrow loosed from a bow.

Before it could take three steps, he was already on its heels. He swung his right leg like a War Axe, landing a heavy low kick squarely on the back of the goblin’s knee.

CRUNCH!

The sound of the leg bone snapping was clearly audible.

The goblin shrieked in pain and pitched forward. Roland was on it like a shadow, driving a knee into its spine.

His left hand pinned its head down as he raised his right fist. The blow descended in a blurry Residual Shadow, smashing down on the point where the spine met the skull.

THWACK!

A single strike, as dull as a mallet striking leather.

The goblin’s shriek cut off abruptly. Its head twisted at an unnatural angle, driven deep into the damp earth.

From the moment he warned Holland to the point he had killed three goblins bare-handed, the entire process had taken no more than five or six breaths.

His movements were fluid, ruthless, and decisive.

Not a single wasted motion—only the purest efficiency of the kill.

Now, only one goblin remained on the battlefield: the one Holland had severely wounded in the shoulder and neck at the start, which had since been harassing them by throwing Short Spears.

It had watched its companions get slaughtered like cattle in mere moments by the bare-handed human. Its yellow pupils were now consumed by pure panic, and it turned to scramble deep into the thicket.

"Trying to run?"

Only now did Holland truly find his will to fight again after the series of shocking sights.

A surge of ignited fury and a strange, indescribable exhilaration rushed to his head.

With a furious roar, he threw the Nail Head Hammer in his hand with all his Power, as if it were a javelin.

The Nail Head Hammer spun through the air, precisely striking the goblin in the center of its back.

The heavy impact sent it sprawling forward.

Holland strode up to it, wrenched his Nail Head Hammer free, and looked down at the struggling enemy. A cold glint flashed in his eyes as he hefted the Warhammer high.

"Pay the price for your greed!"

With a cathartic roar, the Nail Head Hammer fell, carrying all of Holland’s Power and his pent-up frustration.

SQUELCH!

Blood sprayed into the air.

At the edge of the desolate plains, the morning suddenly fell silent again, leaving only the thick, cloying stench of blood and five goblin corpses that were slowly growing cold.

The dead silence lasted for a moment before it was shattered by harsh, ragged gasps.

Holland staggered, and the Nail Head Hammer slipped from his grasp, falling at his feet with a CLANG.

As if he could no longer support himself, he fell back and collapsed onto the cold, damp ground.

He leaned back against a rock, his chest heaving violently like a broken-down bellows as he gulped down mouthfuls of the cold, blood-scented air.

A cold sweat, a delayed reaction, now soaked his hair and back. The Fear and dread he had forcibly suppressed during the battle now rushed back in like a tide, making his fingers, still gripping the edge of his Shield, tremble slightly.

His eyes glazed over as he scanned the twisted goblin corpses around him. His gaze fell upon the one with a horrifying hole in its chest, and his stomach couldn’t help but lurch.

"Gods above..."

he muttered, his voice hoarse.

"I... I really thought I was a goner today..."

The exhaustion from having survived the ordeal left him without the strength to even raise a hand and wipe the splattered blood from his face.

After a long moment, he finally turned his terrified gaze toward the young man standing quietly nearby.

Roland was looking down at his own hands and arms, caked in dark red filth. His expression was so placid, it was as if that brutal, bare-handed slaughter had been nothing more than dusting off his clothes.

The Dawn Light fell on his bloodstained back, which remained ramrod straight, outlining a formidable and unsettlingly inhuman silhouette.

Holland swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. The shock in his eyes gradually gave way to a disbelieving, almost reverent awe.

"Ru... Rudolph?"

he ventured, his voice still unsteady.

"You... what you just did..."

He struggled to find the words, unable to properly describe what he’d seen.

"...Who in the world are you? No, I mean... your fists... That Green Skin muscle, even short swords can’t pierce it, and you just... with your bare hands..."

He paused, trying to steady his breathing, his eyes filled with a mixture of inquiry and astonishment.

"By the Holy Light, I’ve never seen... No, I mean, I’ve heard that certain Ascetics who specialize in hardening their bodies or some Beastman Warriors can do things like that, but you... you don’t look like one..."