After killing the last two goblins needed to hit his milestone, Gauss made a few quick leaps and swiftly put distance between himself and the rest of the goblin horde.
He drew his staff, hopped cleanly over the crude stone wall, and disappeared from sight behind the village's low defenses.
Back in the square, the goblins—who had just been rallying their courage and shouting battle cries—now stared blankly at the vanishing enemy, confused.
All eyes turned to their leader, the Redcap Goblin.
Even the Redcap was stunned.
As one of the rare high-intelligence individuals among non-elite goblins, it could sense how dangerous this human was.
In a matter of minutes, he had wiped out their best fighters—including their precious archers, painstakingly trained over time. All gone.
Though hatred burned in its heart, fear and uncertainty loomed larger. It didn’t order a pursuit—the tribe was already on its last legs.
In truth, the Redcap would rather see this powerful human leave than risk further carnage.
Meanwhile, a safe distance away, Gauss checked his Adventurer's Handbook.
[Total Monsters Kills: 200.]
[Reward: Strength +1]
[Reward: Sub-core Skill Slot +1]
[Next milestone: 500 total monster kills.]
Text flashed briefly before fading.
A familiar wave of warmth flowed through Gauss’s body—his stat increase.
He’d experienced this before, but it felt different this time.
Last time, his Strength had increased from 5 to 6. Now it was going from 6 to 7—beyond what even most trained humans could reach.
The warm energy spread into his muscles, making them tighten with power—no pain, just dense, flexible tension like a bowstring drawn taut.
His bones popped softly. The energy had seeped into his very skeleton, reinforcing it.
After a few breaths, Gauss exhaled and stood tall.
“Crack! Crack! Crack!”
His whole body released a satisfying series of snaps.
He tightened his grip on his sword—it felt light as a feather now.
Strength 7 was on another level. He could now feel the divide between 6 and 7 in real-time.
A normal person might, through extreme training, reach 6.
But 7? That was beyond human—superhuman.
A person with 7 Strength could easily overpower over a dozen adult men in unarmed combat. With weapons and technique? Even more.
He hadn’t gained Strength during his class advancement to Arcane Adept, but now the Handbook had filled that gap.
Aside from Intelligence at 8, he now had 7s across the board.
It became clear—this system wasn’t assigning stat points at random. It was trying to balance his weakest stats first.
And Gauss had no complaints.
Compared to others, he had a massive head start. Normal professionals gained stats by leveling—but his Handbook also filled in any gaps.
That meant his total attributes would eventually outpace his peers.
A “hexagonal warrior,” strong in all six core attributes, could fight confidently even when outnumbered. That was why he had charged into a goblin horde without hesitation—he had the base stats to back it up.
The second reward, however, was something new: a Sub-core Skill Slot.
Gauss focused and quickly understood its use.
Much like his main Core Skill Slot (used for Mage Armor), the Sub-core Slot let him designate any skill as semi-core—giving it enhanced effects, though not as strong as a full core.
It also had one advantage: it could be swapped freely, with a cooldown.
Without hesitation, Gauss selected Magic Missile as his Sub-core.
The moment it was assigned, he felt the spell shift subtly.
Its structure changed, becoming more refined—optimized under the sub-core effect.
“I can fire triple missiles now… and the mana cost’s gone down too.”
The insight came instinctively, as if whispered by the system itself.
Previously, he could launch maybe 20 downgraded missiles before running dry. Now? He could fire at least 30.
It might not seem like much, but in a real fight, mana efficiency was everything. Saving mana on Magic Missile meant he could invest it elsewhere.
Satisfied with his upgrades, Gauss turned back to the goblin village.
As he re-entered through the main gate, the foul stench of the place hit him again.
The goblins had just started gathering to clean up the dead—when they spotted him.
The goblins shrieked in panic, visibly startled. Even the Redcap Goblin, who had started hopping back into formation, looked both angry and confused.
It had just started celebrating what it thought was a miraculous “victory.” The human had left, right?
The Redcap screamed again, rallying its frightened kin and forcing them to form up.
They obeyed out of habit, not conviction.
Gauss raised the Unbreaking Staff.
Three glowing blue orbs shimmered before him, then surged forward like shooting stars.
“Whizz! Whizz! Whizz!”
With the spell set as a sub-core, it cast with even greater ease—like breathing.
It wasn’t instant like Mage Armor, but the slight charge time made it feel deliberate and satisfying.
The three goblins hit directly exploded into chunks—shattered midair.
[Total Monster Kills: 203]
Magic wasn’t just about power—it was about terror.
And for goblins, who lacked intelligence, terror spread fast.
He could feel the panic ripple through the ranks.
He looked toward the flash of red—the Redcap, still holding the line.
Let’s see if your authority is stronger than my magic.
As if sensing his challenge, the Redcap howled and forced its four large lieutenants forward, pushing the troops into another charge.
Gauss, unfazed, raised his staff again.
Three blue flares formed into a triangle in front of him.
The goblins charged—but slowed as they saw the deadly glow.
The ones in front literally wet themselves in terror.
But magic doesn’t hesitate.
[Total Monster Kills: 206]
The blast was even bigger than before.
Chunks of goblin flesh splattered everywhere. Blood and viscera soaked the others.
Seven or eight goblins collapsed in fright—not from wounds, but from sheer emotional collapse.
For many, the will to fight was already gone.
Why… Why are we even trying to fight something we can’t beat?