A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor

Oliver didn't know what kind of loot he could take from the Boulder Crab, or even whether it would be profitable, but a warning from Nebular hung in his mind. That the higher-level types of material – material borne of things greater than Hobgoblins – weren't the sort of things that could be easily prepared.

They needed some of the best alchemists to work them, and not only that, they required equally rare ingredients to bond with in order to make them somewhat usable.

In short, he was told not to expect their gold to do much for him. That reduced his Boulder Crab quest into something baser. Some that hung more closely to what Oliver was usually about. It was not coin that he sought, but strength, and with the Boulder Crab, that was what he aimed to get.

He walked at the front of their party, as had become his custom. With the deepening snow this deep in, it felt right to be the one to break the trail, and make it easier on the rest. Verdant had mentioned that in the future – whilst it was snowing – they might do better to buy several sets of sledges, and fill them up with their goods. Jorah had agreed, thinking it to be a good idea.

"Two of those a week as well, I would think," Gavlin told him, as he joined Oliver at the front of the group.

"Hm? The Hobgoblins?" Oliver asked.

Gavlin nodded. "Unlike lesser creatures, such as goblins, the Hobgoblins take longer to breed or have spawned. No doubt the Gamemasters wouldn't have thought they'd ever have to worry about their Hobgoblin population being decimated, but with you having two members of your party that can take them, I imagine you could wipe them out in a weekend, if you put your minds to it."

Despite his rules, Oliver didn't get the sense that Gavlin was setting them to be irritating. Once more he saw the wisdom in what the Minister of Blades imposed on him, even though it threw a wrench in his own plans. He'd wanted to hunt the Hobgoblins with as much aggression as he could, so that he could get his coin up.

Six of those a week, or even ten, and Oliver was sure that he'd be making wealth that even Greeves' eyes would bulge at.

Still, it wasn't the end of the world. There were far more species out there than the Hobgoblin. There might even be some that were more profitable.

"I think you're probably right about that," Oliver replied. "I'll do as you say with them."

Gavlin glanced at him, searching for something. Whatever he was looking for, he didn't seem to find it. He looked away again. "Not as nervous as I would expect. Are you foolish, or ignorant?"

"Likely both," Oliver said. "I've read up on the beast, but I've never encountered one myself, so I don't know quite what I should be fearing."

"A monster," Galvin told him. "That is what you should be fearing. The sort of creature that changes landscapes, should you anger it well enough. If you don't keep your eyes open, you will die – and you wouldn't be the first either. More than a few in the Academy's history have wandered into Boulder Crab territory unbeknownst to them, and paid the price for it."

"What of you, Minister of Blades?" Oliver asked. "How would you fair against it?"

The man paused a moment, then smiled. "I would break it within the minute, I would hope. It has been many years since I've tried."

"Well, I suppose it's a relief to have you there," Oliver decided. "Thank you for coming."

"I am not here to save you from injury," Galvin told him. "Only death."

It was a harsh pronouncement, but it wasn't any different from what Oliver had expected from his master in the past. He wouldn't have it any other way. He wanted to fight to the very edges of his limits. He needed to. It had been nearly a month since his battle against Francis, and his body ached in an odd way, as though it was rippling with energy, and needed a release.

The Hobgoblins simply didn't cut it.

They drifted into silence again, and continued their march. The sun's position in the sky foretold only two and a bit more hours of daylight. He would need to act fast. According to the map, they were almost there, as evidenced by the continual uphill slope to the ground, as they passed into an area that was more mountainous, and also the proliferation of Black Wolf tracks.

The Black Wolves had attacked their party more than once. Stronger than goblins by a good amount, they were troublesome opponents, especially with the size of the packs that they hunted in – often over ten of them would come at once.

Black Wolves were much like the normal wolves that Oliver had seen on occasion, only, they were clearly infected by something more monstrous. Like giant spiders, some dark power had made its way into their makeup, and changed them in rather significant ways. Find more to read at empire

Their canines, for one, were too big for their mouths. They couldn't keep them hidden within the sheath of their mouths, but had to let them extend downwards, past their chin. They were long and sharp, with enough jaw strength to snap a man's arm clean off.

At twice the size of a normal wolf – more the size of a Gorebeast – and three eyes instead of two, they were undoubtedly the monsters that they were named.

Another three appeared in front of them, and Gavlin fell back. He made a point not to interfere whenever there was combat. He would hang within reach of the weaker members, but he'd made it clear that the moment he had to help would be the moment that he called their expedition off, and sent them back to the Academy, preventing them from undertaking any expedition of this sort in future.

Harsh as usual, but his rationale was still solid. If they needed someone as highly ranked as the Minister of Blades to save them, then they would not fare well without his presence.

The group proved their worth, again and again. Oliver comfortably dispatched the two of the enemies in front of him, baiting one into a pounce by exposing his shoulder. He killed the last one as it turned its back to run through the trees.