The Goblin King's throne room hummed with an ancient malevolence. Phosphorescent fungi grew in deliberate patterns across the walls—not random growth but precise geometric designs that pulsed in rhythm with the monster's breathing.
"Oh no," Kiriti whispered, his enhanced intelligence already calculating their survival odds. With 23.75 total stats against the Goblin King's 202, they faced a deficit so vast that no conventional combat approach could succeed.
Statistical probability of survival through direct confrontation: effectively zero, he thought clinically. But there are other variables.
His mind accelerated, processing the chamber with cold precision. Not just seeing but analyzing, categorizing, calculating. His newly enhanced Intelligence and Luck granted him perception beyond what the others could comprehend.
The ceiling's support structure: three compromised pillars, most critically the one behind the throne showing stress fractures approximately 2.7 meters from its base. Floor composition: ancient stone with deliberate weight-triggered mechanisms indicated by subtle depressions spaced at regular intervals. Most promising: a network of carved channels filled with a glowing green substance—identical in color and viscosity to the explosive slime fungus from upper tunnels.
Kiriti assembled these observations into a three-dimensional model in his mind, calculating stress points, trigger mechanisms, and blast radiuses. And most importantly, optimal placement of four pieces on this deadly chessboard: himself and his three companions.
"Welcome," the Goblin King rumbled again, massive fingers tightening around his war hammer. "Few morsels deliver themselves so willingly to my table."
"Get back to the stairs," Kiriti whispered to the others, not taking his eyes off the monster. "Slowly."
"It's blocking the only exit," Rovel hissed, his analytical mind processing their geometrical predicament. "We're trapped."
"Not yet," Kiriti replied. "But we will be if we don't create options."
The Goblin King rose from his throne, his full height becoming apparent as he stretched to his full stature. The crown of skulls scraped against the ceiling, dislodging small stones that clattered to the floor. A rumbling laugh echoed through the chamber.
"I so rarely get to speak with my food before eating it," he said, taking a ponderous step forward. "Tell me, little ones—which of you shall I devour first?"
High intelligence, capable of speech, tactical awareness, Kiriti noted. This isn't just a stronger goblin—it's an entirely different class of opponent. Brute force is useless. Need to leverage environmental factors.
His mind rapidly prototyped and discarded seventeen distinct strategies in the span of three seconds. Only one offered a non-zero survival probability, and it required precise positioning of all variables—including his companions.
Elyse's religious fanaticism makes her the ideal trigger for the pillar collapse. Rovel's analytical curiosity will naturally draw him toward the structural anomalies. Mira's combat instinct makes her the optimal candidate to ignite the explosive substance. Each of them has a role to play in this scenario. None of them will survive it.
The cold calculation sent a pleasant tingle through his mind. This was writing at its finest—arranging characters in a pattern that maximized narrative impact. And what greater impact than sacrifice?
"Great King," Kiriti called out, stepping slightly forward. "We didn't come to fight. We came to deliver a message."
The monster paused, yellow eyes narrowing with suspicion. "Message? From whom?"
"From those above," Kiriti improvised, buying seconds to refine his plan. "The dungeon's structure is changing. New chambers are forming. Old passages collapsing."
Behind him, he sensed Mira tensing, readying herself for whatever opportunity his distraction might create. Rovel was edging sideways, seeking a defensive position near one of the pillars. Elyse remained frozen, her pendant clutched in white-knuckled fingers.
"You lie poorly, little morsel," the Goblin King growled, continuing his advance. "I am the master of this domain. Nothing changes without my knowledge."
As the creature moved, Kiriti noted the resonant frequency of its footsteps—each impact causing the hairline cracks in the nearest pillar to widen by approximately 0.3 millimeters. At this rate, structural integrity would fail after 12-15 more steps.
Perfect timing window identified, he calculated. Now to position the pieces.
"Mira," he whispered without turning, "when I give the signal, run to the left side of the chamber, near that green channel in the floor."
"What—" she began.
"Rovel," Kiriti continued, cutting her off, "I need you to examine the base of that cracked pillar. Look for any weakness in its structure."
"You want me to run toward the monster?" Rovel asked incredulously.
"Elyse," Kiriti said, ignoring him, "stand before the largest pillar behind the throne and invoke your goddess. We need divine intervention."
The religious girl's eyes widened, but she nodded, trembling fingers gripping her pendant.
"What are you doing?" Mira demanded under her breath.
"Creating a scenario where we survive," Kiriti replied simply. "Trust me."
I'm creating a scenario where I survive, he corrected internally. Their utility is in their positioning. Elyse beneath the weakest pillar: probability of survival 0.2%. Rovel near the pressure plate: probability of survival 0.5%. Mira by the explosive channel: probability of survival 8-12% depending on reaction time.
These weren't companions to him—they were tactical resources to be deployed at maximum efficiency. Their deaths would be narratively satisfying, emotionally impactful, and statistically necessary for his continued survival.
"Now!" he commanded, his voice carrying an authority that surprised even him.
They moved simultaneously—Mira darting left, Rovel reluctantly approaching the pillar, Elyse stepping forward with her pendant raised. The Goblin King paused, momentarily confused by their scattered formation.
"Goddess of Light!" Elyse called out, her voice high and tremulous. "Protect your faithful servant!"
Perfect, Kiriti thought dispassionately. The Goblin King will target her first. Religious invocation is established as provocative to dungeon entities.
"You invoke deities in MY domain?" the monster roared, pivoting toward Elyse with terrifying speed. It raised its massive war hammer, the weapon whistling through the air as it descended toward the girl.
Elyse froze, eyes wide with terror, pendant held before her like a shield.
"Elyse, dodge left!" Kiriti called, timing his warning precisely—a fraction too late to be useful. He could have called earlier. He deliberately didn't.
The hammer missed her directly but struck the floor beside her with such force that the entire chamber shook. Cracks spiderwebbed across the stone floor. The weakened pillar behind her groaned ominously.
Elyse staggered but remained standing, her face pale with terror but still alive. Not according to plan.
"Rovel! The pillar base—is it structurally compromised?" Kiriti called out, redirecting the Goblin King's attention to his next pawn.
The hollow-cheeked boy had reached the pillar and was examining its foundation. "There's a crack running through the—" he began, before the Goblin King's attention snapped to him.
"More morsels to crush," the monster growled, changing targets with unexpected agility.
Another variable aligns, Kiriti noted coldly. Rovel's position is perfect. His analytical nature leading to his demise creates thematic resonance.
"Rovel, roll toward the pressure plate!" Kiriti shouted, knowing full well the boy wouldn't recognize what it was in time.
Rovel looked around frantically, confusion evident on his gaunt face. "What pressure—"
The Goblin King's hammer swung horizontally, catching Rovel in the side. The boy's slight frame was hurled across the chamber, crashing against the wall with a sickening crunch. But his trajectory carried him directly over the circular depression Kiriti had identified earlier.
The stone plate sank with an audible click.
A deep rumbling began beneath the floor. The green substance in the channels began to bubble and glow more intensely.
Kiriti allowed himself a moment of professional satisfaction. Rovel's death had been perfectly executed—both narratively satisfying and mechanically necessary. The boy's lifeless eyes stared from his broken body, his analytical mind forever stilled.
One down, two to go, Kiriti thought with the cold detachment of an author culling extraneous characters.
"What have you done?" the Goblin King roared, suddenly alert to the changing environment.
Kiriti didn't answer, instead turning to Mira. "Strike the channel with your club! The green substance is explosive!"
Her eyes widened with understanding—and suspicion. "Why aren't you doing it?"
"Someone needs to keep his attention," Kiriti replied, drawing his dagger and stepping into the monster's field of vision. "Hey, Your Majesty! Over here!"
Predictable, he thought as the Goblin King turned toward him with a snarl. High Intelligence doesn't equal wisdom. Basic aggression patterns remain intact despite increased cognitive capacity.
"You dare challenge me?" the monster bellowed, raising its hammer again.
"No," Kiriti replied calmly. "I dare to outsmart you."
He backed up steadily, leading the Goblin King toward the center of the chamber, directly beneath the most compromised section of ceiling. Behind the throne, Elyse was still frantically praying, tears streaming down her face.
Her devotion makes her death almost poetic, Kiriti thought. A perfect character arc—faith leading to self-sacrifice.
Mira had reached the nearest channel, her club poised above the bubbling green substance. She met Kiriti's eyes across the chamber, her expression complex—determination mingled with suspicion.
"Now, Mira!" Kiriti called.
She brought her club down hard, rupturing the channel. The green substance ignited instantly, a line of flame racing along the carved pathway. Similar flames erupted in channels throughout the chamber, forming a complex geometric pattern that converged beneath the Goblin King.
The monster roared in confusion, turning to follow the spreading fire. "What magic is this?"
Not magic, Kiriti thought. Chemistry. And physics. And probability. And narrative necessity.
"Elyse!" he called out. "The pillar behind you! Push it!"
The girl stared at him uncomprehendingly for a moment, then looked up at the massive stone column beside her. Understanding dawned on her face. She placed her hands against the cracked stone and pushed with all her meager strength.
Nothing happened.
"It's too heavy!" she called back, panic rising in her voice.
"The Goddess will grant you strength!" Kiriti responded, knowing she needed the religious framework. "Believe!"
The Goblin King was now fully aware of the danger. It began to retreat from the center of the chamber, moving with surprising speed for its bulk.
Too soon, Kiriti calculated. Need to delay it three more seconds for optimal pillar impact. Tactical adjustment required.
"You cannot escape me!" he shouted, rushing forward and slashing at the monster's leg with his dagger.
The blade barely penetrated the thick hide, but the action achieved its purpose. The Goblin King stopped and turned, face contorted with rage.
"Insect!" it bellowed, swinging its hammer down.
Kiriti dodged, rolling sideways as the weapon smashed into the floor. More cracks spread through the stone. The entire chamber shuddered.
At the far side, Elyse had closed her eyes, pendant pressed to her forehead as she continued pushing against the pillar. To Kiriti's analytical eyes, her posture seemed oddly peaceful—as if she'd accepted whatever outcome awaited her.
The pillar shifted. Just slightly at first, then more rapidly as the damaged base gave way.
"Elyse!" Mira screamed from across the chamber. "Run!"
But it was too late. The massive stone column toppled with awful inevitability, crashing toward the center of the chamber. Elyse disappeared beneath it, her final expression one of serene acceptance. The column crushed her utterly, leaving only a single hand visible, fingers still clutching the pendant.
Second character eliminated, Kiriti noted with professional satisfaction. Religious symbolism intact to the end. Narratively symmetrical.
The impact sent shockwaves through the already compromised floor. The green substance in the channels detonated simultaneously, the explosion ripping through the chamber with concussive force. The Goblin King staggered, caught between the falling pillar and the erupting floor.
Kiriti had positioned himself near the chamber's edge, using one of the intact columns as partial shelter from the blast. Even so, the force of the explosion threw him against the wall, pain lancing through his body.
Through dust and debris, he saw the Goblin King howling in rage and pain, its armor shattered, green blood streaming from multiple wounds. The monster was still standing, but severely injured—the calculated structural collapse had done what no direct attack could have achieved.
"Mira!" Kiriti called out, unable to see her through the chaos. "Status?"
No response came. For a moment, he considered the possibility that all three companions had perished exactly as planned. A clean slate. But then he heard coughing from the far side of the chamber.
As the dust began to settle, Kiriti took stock of the situation. Elyse was gone, crushed beneath the fallen pillar. Rovel lay crumpled against the wall where the Goblin King had thrown him, his neck bent at an impossible angle. The chamber itself was partially collapsed, the ceiling now hanging precariously low in places.
The Goblin King stood amidst the rubble, wounded but alive, its yellow eyes burning with murderous rage.
"You," it snarled, fixing its gaze on Kiriti. "You did this. You sacrificed your own kind."
Interesting that it perceives that, Kiriti noted clinically. Higher intelligence than I estimated. Perhaps even moral capacity.
A blue rectangle appeared before his eyes:
MC Moment Triggered: Tactical Genius Against Overwhelming Odds Triggered Action: [Environmental Trap Execution] + [Calculated Sacrifice of Allies] + [Self-Risk for Optimal Outcome] +9 Stat Points Awarded (Combat Focus) STR +1 | AGI +2 | VIT +1 | INT +3 | LCK +2 Updated Statistics: STR: 3.25 AGI: 6 VIT: 5 INT: 11.25 LCK: 7.25 TOTAL: 32.75
Nine points. The system had rewarded him handsomely for orchestrating the deaths of his companions. And it had labeled the action in clinical terms—"Calculated Sacrifice of Allies"—without moral judgment. The system understood and approved of his ruthless efficiency.
A movement from the side caught his attention. Mira was alive, pulling herself from beneath a pile of smaller debris. Blood streaked her face, and she clutched her left arm at an awkward angle. Her eyes met his across the ruined chamber, and in that moment, Kiriti knew she understood exactly what had happened.
Unfortunate, he thought dispassionately. Her survival probability was higher than the others, but still suboptimal. Now she's a loose end—a witness to my methods.
"You knew," she whispered, the words barely audible above the settling debris. "You positioned us deliberately."
"I created the scenario most likely to result in our survival," Kiriti replied calmly.
"Our survival?" Her laugh was bitter, tinged with pain. "Look around. Elyse is dead. Rovel is dead."
"But we're alive," Kiriti countered. "And the Goblin King is wounded."
The monster in question was staggering toward them, using its war hammer as a makeshift crutch. Its movements were labored, but the burning hatred in its eyes hadn't dimmed.
"I will feast on your entrails," it growled. "Slowly. While you watch."
Kiriti's enhanced Intelligence rapidly assessed the situation. The Goblin King was severely injured, its stats likely reduced by at least half. With his own newly improved stats, the fight was now potentially winnable—still dangerous, but within the realm of possibility.
Mira remains useful for one final function, he calculated. Her combat capability, even wounded, provides tactical advantage against the Goblin King. After that, her utility expires.
"Mira," he said, not taking his eyes off the approaching monster. "Can you still fight?"
She struggled to her feet, wincing as she tested her injured arm. "Does it matter? You've already decided my role in your story, haven't you?"
"This isn't a story," Kiriti lied smoothly. "This is survival."
"Is it?" She picked up her fallen club with her good arm. "Because I'm beginning to think there's something very wrong with you, Kiriti. Something the system is rewarding that the rest of us would find... monstrous."
The accusation hung between them, but there was no time to address it. The Goblin King had reached the fallen pillar and was clambering over it, closing the distance.
"We finish this together," Kiriti said, readying his dagger. "Then we can discuss theories."
Mira's expression hardened. "Fine. One last time."
They moved in unison, approaching the wounded monster from opposite sides. The Goblin King swung its hammer in a wide arc, but its movements were slower now, more predictable. Kiriti ducked beneath the swing while Mira circled behind.
"Strike the wound on its back!" Kiriti called out, noting a particularly deep gash where shrapnel from the explosion had penetrated the creature's armor.
Mira didn't hesitate, bringing her club down hard on the exposed flesh. The Goblin King roared in pain, twisting to face her—exactly as Kiriti had anticipated. The movement exposed its neck, where the skull crown had partially shattered, leaving vulnerable green flesh visible.
Kiriti struck with precision, his dagger finding the gap and plunging deep into the monster's throat. Green blood spurted in a pressurized jet as he yanked the blade sideways, opening the wound further. The Goblin King gurgled, dropping its hammer as both massive hands clutched at its neck.
For a moment, the creature remained upright, swaying slightly. Then its legs buckled, and it crashed to the floor with a impact that shook the entire chamber. Its eyes remained open, the yellow glow slowly fading as life ebbed away.
A blue rectangle appeared before Kiriti:
Monster Kill Reward: +1.00 to Random Attribute STR +1.00 (Boss Bonus x4) MC Moment Triggered: Tactical Victory Against Superior Opponent Triggered Action: [Execution of Multi-Phase Strategy] + [Adaptation to Changing Battlefield Conditions] +5 Stat Points Awarded (Strategic Focus) STR +1 | AGI +1 | INT +2 | LCK +1 Updated Statistics: STR: 5.25 AGI: 7 VIT: 5 INT: 13.25 LCK: 8.25 TOTAL: 38.75
Five more points. And a full point of Strength just for the kill itself. The rewards were accelerating.
Fourteen stat points from one encounter, Kiriti calculated. At this rate of progression, I'll reach D-Rank before exiting the dungeon.
Mira stood on the other side of the fallen monster, breathing heavily, her club still raised. Blood dripped from a gash on her forehead, running into her eyes. She wiped it away with the back of her hand.
"It's done," she said flatly. "We killed it."
"We did," Kiriti agreed, studying her with newfound wariness. She'd survived both the trap and the final confrontation. That wasn't part of his calculation. And the suspicion in her eyes had crystallized into something harder, more certain.
"Was there any other way?" she asked quietly, echoing across the ruined chamber. "Any strategy that didn't involve Elyse and Rovel dying?"
Kiriti considered his answer carefully. "The statistical disparity was too great for conventional tactics. This was the only approach with non-zero survival probability."
"For who?" Mira pressed, limping around the Goblin King's corpse toward him. "For all of us? Or just for you?"
"For anyone," Kiriti replied. "You survived too, didn't you?"
"By luck," she said. "Not by design."
"Results matter more than intentions in survival situations," Kiriti countered, watching her approach with calculated caution. "We defeated an E-Rank monster as F and G-Ranks. That's unprecedented."
Mira stopped a few paces away, her gaze traveling from Kiriti to the bodies of their companions. Elyse's hand protruded from beneath the fallen pillar, still clutching her pendant. Rovel lay crumpled against the wall where the Goblin King had thrown him, his analytical eyes forever vacant.
"You got another reward, didn't you?" she asked suddenly.
Kiriti didn't deny it. "Yes."
"For what, exactly?"
"For defeating a superior opponent through strategic means," he answered, the partial truth coming easily.
"No," Mira shook her head slowly. "That's not all. I saw your face when it happened. What did the system call it? The exact words."
Kiriti hesitated. The exact phrasing—"Calculated Sacrifice of Allies"—would confirm her suspicions entirely.
"Tactical Victory Against Superior Opponent," he said instead, offering the second notification's title. "Five additional points."
"And before that? When the trap triggered?"
His silence was answer enough.
"I thought so," she whispered. "The system rewarded you for getting them killed."
"The system rewarded effective strategy," Kiriti corrected. "Survival had a price."
"A price they paid," Mira said, her voice hardening. "Not you."
She stepped over a chunk of fallen ceiling, closing the distance between them. Her club hung loosely at her side, but Kiriti remained alert. Her injured state made her no less dangerous—perhaps more so, with nothing left to lose.
"I need to rest," she said finally, sinking down against a relatively intact portion of wall. "My arm's broken, I'm bleeding from at least three places, and I just watched two people die."
Kiriti nodded, maintaining his position. "I'll check if there's another exit. The stairs we came down are blocked by debris."
"Of course they are," Mira muttered, closing her eyes briefly. "Go ahead. I'll wait here."
As she leaned her head back, Kiriti calculated. Her survival was statistically improbable beyond this point. Her wounds would become infected. Her stamina would fail. Most importantly, her knowledge of his methods created unacceptable narrative tension. She had become a liability.
There's elegance in completing the pattern, he thought. Three companions entered. None should leave.
He moved silently around the chamber's perimeter, noting the structural damage from the earlier collapse. Directly above Mira's resting form, a section of ceiling hung precariously, held in place by a single compromised support beam. One precise strike would bring it down.
Kiriti approached from her blind side, dagger held low against his leg. She didn't open her eyes, her breathing labored from pain and exhaustion.
"You know," she said suddenly, though her eyes remained closed, "I wanted to believe you were the hero of this story."
Kiriti paused, momentarily curious. "And now?"
"Now I know better." Her voice was soft, resigned. "I know what you are."
In one fluid motion, Kiriti lunged forward. His dagger flashed once, opening her throat with surgical precision. Her eyes flew open in shock, hands instinctively rising to the wound, but it was already too late. Blood poured between her fingers, bright arterial red.
She didn't speak again. Couldn't. Her eyes locked onto his, filled not with fear or anger but with a terrible confirmation. As if his action had proven something she had already known.
Kiriti watched dispassionately as the light faded from her eyes. The wound had been perfectly executed—severing the carotid artery and jugular vein simultaneously. Death came within seconds.
He waited, curious if the system would reward this final elimination. No blue notification appeared.
Interesting, he thought. The system recognizes "Calculated Sacrifice" during combat scenarios, but not execution of wounded allies afterward. Another design oversight.
He wiped his dagger clean on Mira's clothing, then stood and surveyed the chamber. Four bodies now—the Goblin King, Elyse, Rovel, and Mira. Four deaths that had collectively contributed to his survival and advancement.
Kiriti felt no remorse, no guilt. Only the professional satisfaction of a narrative properly resolved. Loose ends eliminated. Plot threads neatly tied off.
He began gathering useful items from the chamber—the Goblin King's smallest finger bone would make an excellent dagger hilt, far superior to his current weapon. A section of the monster's armor could be fashioned into crude protection for his vital areas. Even the glowing fungus might prove useful if he could safely harvest it.
As he worked, he considered his next steps. With nearly 39 total stat points, he was approaching E-Rank territory. The system clearly rewarded calculated risk, strategic planning, and ruthless efficiency. There was no penalty for sacrificing others, only rewards for doing so in a narratively satisfying way.
After collecting everything of value, Kiriti identified a natural tunnel leading upward on the far side of the chamber. It appeared structurally sound and likely connected to the upper levels.
As he climbed, he felt the familiar satisfaction of having overcome impossible odds through superior intelligence and careful planning. The system might not care who lived or died. But it clearly cared who was clever enough, ruthless enough, and meta-aware enough to keep the story moving forward. It rewarded the player, not the hero.
And Kiriti intended to play this game perfectly.