Chapter 18 - The Champion I
The Collector galloped its way further into the encampment, a speeding, half-ton mass of bristles and carapace and claws and bloodlust. Yet, despite its dizzyingly fast pace, throughout each of its many steps, it kept its senses open, analyzing the battlefield and its enemies.
The camp was large, far larger than the dens the black hobgoblins could manage.
The level of technology present in the camps far exceeded that present in the dens as well. There were several tents created from the dried skins of hunted prey and propped up with wood frames. Skin-wrapped barrels of roughly carved wood containing mostly liquids and meat stood by each camp.
The presence of fire, a common evolutionary development among budding tinkerer species, was also evident in rings of black, smudged ash and wood nearby the tents.
From these camps, there emerged hobgoblins and normal, smaller goblins poking their heads out of the tents at first in curiosity, then in terror.
The Collector slaughtered them all, using its tusks to gore them, its armor-plated weight to bludgeon them, its tail to bash them, its hooves to stomp underfoot the little goblins, and its many arachnid claws to sweep around like a reaper's scythe, lopping off heads and limbs left and right.
Where the Collector went, it left a trail of limbless, battered, and decapitated bodies littering torn apart and smashed tents. As it razed them, it felt its biomass levels accumulating in the moments it stopped to consume hobgoblin corpses, not even bothering with the smaller ones.
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*Biomass gained (+3)*
*Biomass gained (+3)*
*Biomass gained (+3)*
….
Biomass Level: 64/100
*New genetic material gained*
Stored Genetic Material:
-Black Ant
-Black Hobgoblin
-Human
-Giant Scorpion
-Stonecrusher Beetle
-Jumping Arakka
-Lesser Oni
-*NEW* Frostborn Hobgoblin
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The Collector noted that none of the goblins here were of the black-skinned variant.
Neither of these variants seemed native to this environment, either.
The white-skinned variants were adapted to harsh colds.
The red-skinned variants did possess a waxy layer to their skin along with innately lower body temperatures to prevent water loss – yet none of these explained a resistance to flames the stronger red variant guarding the gate had spoken of.
There were patterns to the distribution of the goblins as well.
In larger tents marked by skins with shaggier fur, white-skinned variants dwelled. In tents marked by sleeker skins, the red-skinned variants dwelled.
None of them were anywhere close to the strength of the red and white-skinned variants guarding the camp.
The Collector had even adjusted its strength, accounting for the possibility that these specimen could move two to three times faster than what their biological capabilities could suggest, but it found it had grossly overestimated their abilities.
Strange, thought the Collector as it now rapidly reached the center of the encampment, the scent of the escaped, white-skinned hobgoblin drawing near.
Then what was it that allowed those two specific individuals to possess such unnatural physical capabilities? The red variant, too, possessed five times the amount of biomass compared to its peers despite no apparent physical differences.
The Collector thought of the new words it had heard.
The red hobgoblin had spoken of mana and volcanite and adamantite, all words the Collector was unfamiliar with.
Volcanite and adamantite, the Collector could easily reason were types of ores based on its etymology in the goblin tongue and the context in which the words were utilized.
But mana? The red variant had noted the Collector possessed an absence of it which allowed the specimen to predict the Collector's movements.
The Collector's stored memories could only approximate 'mana' in this context to a psionic charge, and yet, all other contextual clues indicated that the red variant was not speaking of psionics.
There was the possibility that this 'mana' was connected to 'magic', the other unknown phenomena that the Collector had encountered in this world, and yet, it still did not have more information to sufficiently establish strong links between them.
The Collector knew 'magic' could create flames. 'Mana' involved some relation with the Collector's mental processing. Both these words were tied to organisms that seemed unnaturally charged with biomass when consumed.
In addition, 'mana' had some additional relation to the humans for the red hobgoblin had surmised that the Collector was, insultingly so, a creation of a human sorcerer, the same class of human as the female specimen the Collector consumed beforehand.
The strongest thread of connection between the two words therefore were human sorcerers. What this 'sorcerer' class did and was, the Collector did not know, but soon, it would find out.
Further investigation needed. But the Collector could instinctively tell that it was close to connecting these seemingly isolated threads together.
Just one or two more leads.
For now, though, there was the battle, the slaughter.
The Collector reached the escaping Frostborn Hobgoblin at the center of the encampment.
The white-skinned hobgoblin breathed heavy, wheezing breaths, his hand clutched to his bruised and bloody side. His steps dragged together, coordination deteriorating from blood loss.
By now, the Collector had slaughtered ten hobgoblin and destroyed four tents. It estimated that if the goblin populace was spread in even density throughout the circular area, then there could be anywhere from thirty to fifty hobgoblins, but if the vast majority of them were ordinary, then they posed no threat.
"Your attempts to delay your inevitable demise end now, feeble little creature," said the Collector as it approached the hobgoblin.
The white-skinned variant stopped, his blue eyes locking onto a particularly large tent a dozen meters in front of it. It took in a breath before facing the Collector with a tusked smile and roar. "You think I weak!? I show you!"
The white variant hefted its club, almost as large as it was, in one hand and swung it sideways to the Collector's head.
The Collector was still accounting for the variant being two to three times stronger and faster, and this time, its caution paid off.
The Collector countered the enhanced swing and slammed against the swing with most of its weight and might, might that it usually held back for efficiency's sake.
Hyperalloy carapace and Everfrost clashed together in a loud, clanging impact. The club of ice sailed backwards, landing behind the white skinned variant before breaking apart into chunks that rapidly began melting.
A few thin cracks lined a series of bony white carapace plates at the Collector's side – the results of the impact. It could have dodged the attack, but it decided to grant this specimen a final clash of strength for its willingness to face its own death through unhesitant combat.
The white skinned hobgoblin stared at its empty hands, then at the Collector.
"Heh. You strong." The hobgoblin nodded in recognition to the Collector. He held his arms out to the sides, laying bare his body for death. "I die to strong. Good."
The Collector obliged the hobgoblin's desire, running forwards and goring through the creature's heart with its tusks. The hobgoblin seized up, coughing up a spurt of blood before it grew limp, its head hanging backwards.
The Collector jerked its head up, bisecting the hobgoblin from the chest up, and then consumed the creature.
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*Biomass consumed (+10)*
Biomass Level: 74/100
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The Collector clicked its mandibles.
It had expected this particular specimen, much like the other one guarding the encampment's entrance, to have dense biomass. It possessed five points less than the red variant despite having even more physical mass, indicating that the property supercharging the biomass of certain creatures on this world was not directly tied to physical properties.
"I thought I told none to disturb my meditation."
The Collector looked to the larger tent that the white skinned variant had stared at before death. From its entrance flaps there emerged a red skinned variant significantly larger than all his peers. Even larger than the white-skinned ones that possessed denser, more developed musculatures and thicker skins against the cold.
Thick black, glossy armor padded the larger red variant's body in plates of rocky looking material, the very same material that the red variant guarding the gate used in its sword. Volcanite, as it was called.
In the larger red variant's hand, it dragged a one-sided axe with a dull, metallic handle and a head fashioned from volcanite, the roughly carved edges almost looking like the ends of serrated teeth.
"Ah, you must be the so called 'champion'," said the Collector, its tone lingering on the title in a savoring, eager manner. "Good. Your brethren die and ascend to the Collective through my jaws. As their representative, it is only fitting that you join them."
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