'This could be troublesome,' he thought, narrowing his eyes at the oncoming goblins.
While these goblins didn't appear to have that Spell-cancelling effect he had heard of, they apparently still had access to telekinesis.
It couldn't freeze him in place, or even his weapon for that matter, but it could slow his attacks down just enough to render them harmless.
The only upside was that it seemed the goblins couldn't slow his attacks when they didn't see them coming, but he was over twice their height. How could he hide his attacks like this?
The answer was simple. He couldn't.
So he'd just have to opt for something similar.
As the first of the four goblins swung its cudgel, Morne brought his mace down on it.
As expected, it slowed to a snail's pace once it got too close to the goblin, but just as it did, Morne released his mace.
While the mace continued its sluggish descent, his hand swiped down unimpeded.
His hand clamped down on the goblin's head, and his bracer caught the cudgel and shoved it hard enough to send it flying from the goblin's grip.
These goblins didn't just have the stature of children, they also had the strength of one. But a child with a weapon was still dangerous, so Morne had sought to disarm the goblin as fast as he could.
It wasn't just these similarities that goblins shared with children. They also had the same low, if wily, level of intellect. They could've never thought that Morne would let go of his weapon.
The goblins knew well how vital weapons were to fighting. After all, they were as weak as children and needed to bridge the gap somehow. How could they think anyone would willingly ditch an advantage when lives were on the line?
Now, as the goblin's eyes bulged out of its sockets and Morne squeezed down, it still couldn't comprehend what had happened.
This human's weapon was still in the air, held up by its telekinesis. How had an attack gone through?!
Morne wasted no time, having to fend off the other three goblins with his free hand as they circled around him, trying now and then to lunge in for an attack.
They wouldn't sit still for long, and the one he had kicked was starting to regain its bearings.
"Wither away."
His Chimh surged into his arm at his proclamation, flooding into the goblin.
But in his ignorance, Morne didn't know just how cruel his actions were.
The mushroom atop a goblin's head wasn't a fashion choice. If anything, it was like a sibling or child to the goblin.
It was called Devil Drain Fungus, and it was something a goblin valued as much as its own life. The Devil Drain Fungus was a goblin's lifelong companion and its closest friend.
This type of mushroom had a very small level of intelligence, smaller than a rat's.
It could only feel fear, apathy, contentment, and pain at this current stage of maturity, which already elevated it above ordinary mushrooms, and was also the source of a goblin's magical powers.
Moreover, the mushroom and goblin shared their thoughts. Whatever one thought, the other would instantly know. Whatever one felt, the other would be alerted.
So what would happen when the goblin felt its life partner shriveling up as its vitality was siphoned off?
The goblin's screech was ear-piercing. Its fellow goblins groaned, dropping their weapons and covering their ears with their hands. Morne grimaced as he felt his ears drip with blood, and even the audience protected by glass scowled in distaste.
The goblin clawed at Morne's wrist with its untrimmed nails, leaving long, thin furrows that welled with blood and even reopening some of Morne's scabs from his capture.
Its thoughts were consumed with horror and the screeches of its Devil Drain Fungus as its companion that had been with it since shortly after birth had its life ripped away from it with excruciating slowness.
Normally, Withering Touch wouldn't be painful, but the Devil Drain Fungus was just too unfortunate.
As Morne's Spell tore away its life piece by piece, the Devil Drain Fungus' ability, which so happened to be the one Morne had been worried about, was trying to take Morne's Chimh away to protect itself.
This ability took Chimh from within itself or from its surroundings and sent it to the hyphae.
The problem was that at the Devil Drain Fungus' current stage of maturity, this ability, called a Blood Trait, was so laughably weak that it couldn't take even a fraction of a fraction of Morne's Chimh before the next wave came along.
But in its desperate struggle to save itself, it took what Chimh it could anyway, shuttling it to its hyphae to be absorbed. A Devil Drain Fungus's hyphae system was unique in that it was more like a goblin's nervous system, allowing for the sensations of touch… and pain.
Withering Touch would normally take from all parts of the body equally, which was largely why it was such a slow method of killing humans. At the Eme stage, it also caused mild discomfort, akin to losing blood.
But the Devil Drain Fungus didn't have a true nervous system. It was attuned to Chimh, and as a result, could feel pain or pleasure from harmful or beneficial effects, respectively.
And now the Devil Drain Fungus, doing whatever it can to save itself, had just directed every ounce of Morne's Chimh to its hyphae. Morne's Chimh was eating the mushroom from the inside out, and it felt every moment of it.
Once that ghastly screech left the goblin's lips, Morne gained a vague idea of what he was doing, but he only redoubled his efforts, tightening his hold as his victim scratched and clawed at his arms in a hopeless escape attempt.
Due to the minute size of the mushroom, it took only a few seconds to end its suffering, and when it finally gave out, it sent its host into a shock.
The goblin went limp, and Morne dropped the creature with an indifferent expression.
He caught his falling mace out of the air, the object having been freed from the mushroom's telekinetic grip, and sent it straight into the goblin's head.
He rose from his kill with blood now covering part of his face and clothes and tilted his head to glare at the four survivors.
The goblins shivered.
Monster. This human was a monster.