Alpha Strike: [An interstellar Weapon Platform’s Guide to being a Dungeon Core] (Book 2 title)

The scream cut through the pleasant fog of Bosco's alcohol-soaked mind like a hot knife.

As it did for everyone at the table.

The more 'proper' Adventurers of Halirosa might have referred to their lot as gutter rats and gangsters, only one step removed from base thieves, but they were all Adventurers too! As such, they had all developed certain instincts and rules that everyone quickly learned to listen to.

Because in the dangerous wilds of the Crimson Mountains, those who didn't listen, often never came home.

One such rule was to never dismiss a strange noise as 'just the wind' or a 'rat scurrying about.'

And, of course, a blood-curdling scream absolutely qualified as a 'strange noise.'

Bosco stood, swaying slightly as he clutched his pounding head. The three remaining team leaders shared a look and stood as well. They each grabbed their nearby weapons and rushed toward the longhouse doors.

Bosco shoved both doors open with a heave and strode out into the village square, his axe at the ready. The sight that greeted him made the large man question if someone, or something, had raided the village while he wasn't paying attention.

Various Adventurers lay strewn about the square, some in piles, others leaning up against buildings. The acidic tang of vomit and less pleasant body fluids on the air, along with the confused look of a few still-conscious Adventurers, told a different story, however.

As Bosco watched, one of the standing Adventurers, tankard in hand, swayed and fell to the ground.

The large man shook his head, stepped away from the longhouse, and narrowed his eyes, attempting to peer deeper into the shadowed square.

{Wait...why is it so dark?} Bosco thought to himself.

There should have been a bonfire burning in the center of the square. And indeed, there was a large pile of burning, smoldering wood, but it had been mostly doused. In fact, he could see several of the servant goblins throwing dirt and water on the few remaining embers.

"You! Goblins! What do you think you're doing?! Who told you to put out the fire?!"

The offending goblins flinched, turned to look at Bosco, then at each other. The next moment, they bolted, running in opposite directions.

Bosco frowned and raised his axe to throw at the nearest fleeing goblin, but flinched as a pounded headache spiked his brain with pain. The large leader of Icefinger's Adventurers stumbled slightly and clutched the side of his head.

Bosco's instincts screamed at him that something was wrong. Everyone shouldn't be this drunk. He shouldn't be this drunk. Everyone here was at least a [Silver Spirit] level cultivator, if not higher. Coupled with a lifetime in the rougher parts of Halirosa, even the weaker-bodied mages in the group could hold their alcohol well enough.

That was to say nothing of Bosco himself. Even disregarding the fact that he was a much higher level cultivator than everyone in the group, barring Seeker, Bosco was a large man with an equally large thirst for booze.

The quantity and quality of alcohol that it would have taken to get him feeling like he did, would have floored anyone else in the group after one mug. Or outright killed a mortal.

No… something was very wrong.

A voice cut through the darkness as if reading Bosco's mind (or maybe it was his expression).

"What's wrong, Bosco? Having trouble holding your drink?"

Bosco's eye snapped to the source of the voice. A dark figure stood atop the village gate, some distance away. The dark 'night' of the cavern hid most of the figure's features, but the shadow of long, pointed ears and Bosco's own spirit sense told him it was a goblin.

"What did you do to my men, you pointy-eared bastard?!" Bosco roared at the goblin on top of the gate.

The figure gave a curt laugh and smugly answered. "You know, funny thing about spiced goblin ale, that. It's really hard to brew anything of good quality down here. But buying anything good from the surface is far more expensive, so we make do. All the added spice isn't because of preference, though. It's there to cover up the taste of the inferior quality ingredient… or anything else we decide to add to the batch."

On cue, one of the team leaders behind him swayed on her feet, then bent over and emptied her stomach of all the high-quality food she'd eaten.

An icy pit formed in Bosco's stomach. "You poisoned us?! You rat-bastard! Who are you? Tell me now, and I'll content myself with just skinning you and your family! The rest of the rats can settle for some broken bones!"

Again, the figure laughed. "What, Bosco, you don't recognize me? I'm offended. After you were so kind as to send that squad of goons after me, I thought we had something special," they said with mock offense.

Bosco ground his teeth and yelled back. "You! You're that little weasel that snuck into my village, aren't you? The one those fools Chunk and Kit let escape! I'm surprised one of the other teams didn't finish you once we started our little hunt. What, were you not content with the second chance the heavens offered you? No problem; I can help you with your obvious death wish! Don't think just because you snuck a little poison in our drink, you'll be able to take me! I am Bosco! Enforcer of Icefinger, and it'll take more than that if some puny goblin wants to put ME down!"

Bosco had been slowly edging closer to the gate the entire time he spoke. He could end this with one good axe throw if he could get close enough. However, given how bad his head was pounding, it was best to be closer than he'd liked. During the previous interrogations of the goblins, it had come up that this particular one had a predilection for traps and sneaky tactics. Something confirmed by the attempted poisoning, it seems.

Not that something like that would keep Bosco down. Yet he knew it was best to be careful around that type. He wasn't just boasting to buy time; Bosco had already identified the poison in his system and started breaking it down with his spirit energy.

The goblin's voice took on a bitter tone when next he spoke. "This isn't your village, Adventurer. Though, if you really are one of Icefinger's men, I'm not surprised you think you can just waltz in and claim it. Even we have heard about that man's… methods."

Bosco sneered up at the goblin, "Oh? So you've heard of us, have you? Then you should understand why it's best if you just surrender now and hope your death buys your people some leniency."

The figure folded their and shook their head. "No. I don't think I will. Here's a counteroffer for you. You surrender, and we'll turn you over to the Halirosa authorities with most of your skin!"

The figure paused and raised a hand to their head. Despite their hushed whispering, Bosco's enhanced hearing could still make out the words in the eerily quiet cavern night.

"What? Yes sir, I remember the deal, we won't ac—… No, I wasn't going to—…Yes sir, I understand."

Bosco smirked, then laughed with his full belly. "I see. Will you, now? You and what army, little goblin? Did you run off and cry to Halirosa? Is that where you've been? No, you couldn't have made it that far, informed someone, and made it back so quickly. So what then? Who's on the other side of that communication jade? Is it Robert? Tell that fool if he wants to finish our little feud, he can face me like a real man, instead of hiding behind a goblin!"

The goblin lowered their hand and paused for a silent moment. When they spoke, Bosco could hear the smirk in their voice. "Don't worry, Bosco. I don't need an army to fight someone like you. Or the other Adventurers."

"You don't, do you? And why's that, you little bastard?!" Bosco growled through clenched teeth. He was almost close enough to make the throw. He just needed to keep the goblin talking and in line of sight a little longer. If he rushed it, the little rat might try to escape again.

The goblin actually laughed and continued. "You see, for someone who claims to own this village, you made one fatal mistake when it comes to life here."

The Adventurer laughed and raised a brow.

"Oh? And what's that?" Bosco asked.

This should be good. Not that he cared anything about goblin customs or laws, but it was always fun to see someone make a fool of themselves.

Thunk!

Something heavy struck the thick wooden gates that separated the village from the forest beyond. The wooden gates strained against the blow, splintering slightly.

Bosco paused, his eyes widening.

Thunk!

Again, something struck the gates, causing the crude metal latches to groan in protest.

Bosco was close enough to the goblin now to make out facial features in the dim, natural light of the cavern.

Or enough at least to see the man grin from pointed ear to pointed ear as he spoke. "You see, you did the one thing everyone in the village has known not to do for the past 25 years."

BOOOOOM!

The village gates were blasted off their hinges, their shattered remains peppering a surprised Bosco with large chunks of splintered wood. The largest of such gate fragments sailed over his head and slammed into the smoldering bonfire. It caught fire and soon illuminated the village in a dim light.

Bosco could see something moving from the gaping shadow maw that was the former village gate.

"ROOOOAAARRRR!" An enormous figure, slightly taller than Bosco himself, erupted from the shadows, roaring as they charged him. The Adventurer's eyes bulged, and they raised their arm. Spirit energy flashed, and a large metal shield appeared in his hands, pulled from the storage ring on his finger.

The next moment, Bosco was driven to his knees, as the most massive warhammer he'd ever seen slammed into his shield.

The head of the hammer alone was half the size of his torso and looked more like it should belong to a giant than anyone of common blood.

The figure holding the giant's hammer was no less strange.

At 8'01", Bosco was a giant of a man himself, but if he had to guess, the enemy in front of him had an easy nine inches on him, maybe more. Moreover, they wore thick, metal armor of a make and style Bosco had never seen before. In stark contrast to what one would often see in Halirosa, it wasn't a flashy thing.

From the curves of the plate to how they interlocked and moved with each other, Bosco could tell that whoever had made this had done so with pure functionality in mind. There were no flares or embellishments to be had on the jet-black armor. Every line and curve served its purpose perfectly. And yet… it was far from a crude thing. The opposite, in fact. It was sleek and stylish in an oddly enchanting way. It was the beauty of simplicity, yet so much more.

The thing that drew his eyes the most, however, was the helmet. Like the rest of the armor, it was simple in design but cut into hemispheres by a glossy black strip. And on that strip, burning into his soul, was a single, glowing red 'eye.'

As they stared into that 'eye,' Bosco could almost feel the person behind the helmet smirking.

The armored figure's hammer suddenly hissed, and the back portion rose into the air.

THUNK!

Bosco's shield shattered instantly, as a massive force once more slammed into him, throwing him back several dozen meters. Bosco tumbled end-over-end before finally catching himself and standing. He stared down at the shattered remains of his shield. The arm that held it shook, and he could see a large bruise forming on his thick forearm. That shield was almost a month of saving! He didn't care who these goblins thought they were; he was going to hang them with their own intestines!

The bone wasn't damaged, but nine hells had that hurt! He tossed the ruined shield aside, summoning another. His eyes blazing with spirit energy, Bosco raised his axe and marched to meet his armored foe.

Antchaser, still standing atop the remains of the gate frame, laughed and finished his explanation.

"You asked what you did? I'll tell you."

Antchaser reached up and pressed a button at the base of his neck. Metal plate slide up from his back and formed into a solid helmet with a singular, glowing red eye.

"You made Boarslayer mad."

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