Veil lay in the darkness, unseen, unheard, yet bleeding a certain dark red liquid out of his body, not mentioning the goddamn amount of pain he was in and constantly questioning if he was going to die every two seconds.
Veil was more afraid of living than dying; he had nothing to lose. But returning to a hell where he was alone, where he didn't know if he really and truly existed—wasn't that worse than both life and death? He would return to hell at this rate, an outcome he hated and could only bitterly swallow like an aphrodisiac being pushed down his throat.
"Why do I have to fight these green-colored primitive dwarves with everything I have?" Veil thought mentally.
"Why couldn't I live a quiet village life?" Veil refused to believe there wasn't any human civilization out there.
A tired smile drew across Veil's face. Why cry? Why say he is being forced? He always had a choice. Right now he was choosing to stop honoring a bunch of monsters. Right now he would stand out. Right now he chose to fight so he didn't end up in hell.
Veil ran in the darkness while running as fast as he possibly could without alerting the warriors before him.
He held his shield well in his hand and arm, bashing into the closest spear goblin, causing it to hit the ground hard, alerting another nearby spear goblin who thrust his giant-ass spear at Veil's ribcage.
Luckily, Veil barely managed to dodge by rolling around. Veil remembered once reading a martial arts novel his brother recommended, in which the orthodox sects mocked and looked down on the donkey roll for no reason at all. How bad could donkey rolls really be? In a true fight, they could really save your life, and why would anyone care about honor when on death's door? Luckily, he was the sin of sloth; such a thing meant nothing to him. What did matter was that he didn't get damaged seriously.
"Luckily for me, I'm not from an orthodox clan," Veil mentally mocked. He did this to help himself cope with his current situation. Not every day you have a brush with death every 2 minutes.
Veil rolled himself back even deeper into the dark abyss of the cave, but then a thought crossed his mind. "Wait a minute, I have been playing assassin so long. All those clansmen, now in the shadows, feel safe. If I rushed at them, I could take down two or three, maybe even snatch a nice and sharp spear."
Veil rushed into the light, gripping the dagger. He was in the light for the first time in what felt like hours because of his intense battles, but in reality, it was really just a few minutes.
He knew he didn't have much time until the goblins realized what was happening, so he rushed at a small goblin group, just a little left to most of the big groups. This particular goblin group had 3 shield users, 2 spearmen, and 1 archer.
The first thing Veil did was throw the dagger at the archer's head. Of course, he had never done such a thing before; it missed, flew off course a bit, which made Veil feel stupid for throwing his only weapon. Luckily, it landed in the left arm of one of the spear-wielding goblins.
The spearman dropped his spear and ran away, scared for his life because he was injured and without a weapon and wasn't going to die for camaraderie.
A shield user goblin bashed into Veil, sending him backward. Then the same goblin dropped his shield to the left beside Veil and hopped on Veil's chest, which knocked the wind out of him.
Veil grabbed the goblin and held him by his neck, pushing it forward to make the other goblins hesitate before attacking him.
"Man, I look like a goddamn terrorist right now," Veil whispered to himself. Sigh.
Veil snapped the neck of the goblin he was carrying, feeling the bones move and break in his hands.
Suddenly, an arrow lodged into Veil's left shoulder, as something both Veil and a majority of the stupid goblins around him forgot was that they had archers.
Veil was already struck in his abdomen, and a few other wounds in his body were also there. Such a shot to his left shoulder now left him barely able to crawl back into the shadows before the slimy archers could reload.
Mentally, Veil screamed, "Luna, Luna, Luna, Luna, Luna, Luna, help me!"
"Master Sloth, this lowly servant apologizes for being late. How may I assist you?" Luna said in a cheery voice, but even then she seemed disappointed in herself.
"Just tell me how to escape this situation," Veil mentally screamed so hard he got a headache.
"I may not be able to help, but I can teach you a move. Condense your mana into your palm and imagine circular rotation. If you do it right, a circular ball of pure mana shall appear. Grab onto it and then throw it like a ball. Do kids still play with balls?"
"Great plan, perfect and all, but how the hell do I condense mana in the first place? I have never even fucking used it," Veil retorted in his conscious.
"Well, Master sloth, mana is the essence of power, and there are four ways to use it. The only power comparable to it is divinity, of course."
"Oh really? Sounds interesting," Veil said, listening to every word even while in pain. After all, this knowledge might just be his lifeline.
"Yes master sloth, the first way to use mana is to cast spells, a very complicated process that you do not have the time to learn. All you need to know is that it is heavily affinity reliant. The second is martial arts, where you gather mana and condense it in specific parts of your body with life force. You need a mentor or manual for this. The third is runes and glyphs. Runes can be drawn for effects and power, while glyphs are spoken and contain power. This is different from magic entirely. The fourth way is Instinct Weaving. It is the oldest method—older than spells, older than martial arts, older than runes. You do not shape mana with technique. You shape it with will. With instinct. With desire. It is dangerous, unpredictable, and only those with a strong soul can use it. This method now goes by 3 names: unique skills, domains, and authorities."