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The trap that Findlay was dragged into was something like a pitfall but instead of dropping straight down it was more like a chute that would slide its victims to another area of the underground city and with the amount of force the spriggan hit Findlay with the group was travelling at a quite a pace.

“Ahhhhhh!” Findlay roared in pain as he was forced to slide down the chute, the hob goblins still latched onto his limbs, pinning him down. The one on his left arm was especially malicious, twisting and digging its fingers into his open wounds. The pain was preventing him from thinking straight.

Don!

The spriggan on his chest punched his ribs with a malicious grin, wounding Findlay even more while they still had the chance. Once they reached the end of the chute a large open room was waiting for them. Best to deal out as much damage as possible while they still had control. The spriggan was more than happy to beat into a defenceless troll.

Don! Don!

The spriggan continued to batter Findlay’s ribs and chest causing him to repeatedly spit up blood and convulse in pain. His mind so clouded by rage and agony he didn’t even think about his retaliation, choosing to only react physically which proved pointless. He could no longer sense his soldiers that were empowered by his buff, he and his attackers had drifted too far. Thankfully he didn’t have to remain nearby to maintain the buff so regardless of his situation his soldiers would still benefit from the added strength and stamina.

Crack!

Suddenly or rather inevitably one of his ribs cracked from the spriggan’s blows eliciting another roar of pain from him and an even bigger smile from the spriggan.

.....

“Hahahhaha more, more little troll, scream for me some more hahahahah.” The spriggan madly laughed and enjoyed the pained expression of his victim. The spriggan stopped randomly punching and focused now on the broken rib. Placing its small hands on the area it started squeezing.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhh!” Findlay screamed once again, desperately trying to shake off the hob goblins to smash the spriggan sitting on his chest.

“Did that hurt little troll heheheh, then how about this?” The spriggan then pressed hard with his ten fingers near the broken rib, shattering it even further. The spriggan had given into its natural tendencies, picking on trolls. Of course, Findlay wasn’t a regular troll but a high rank ice troll commander, stronger than the spriggan by quite a fair amount. That’s what made this situation so delectable for the spriggan, torturing a troll that it’d normally stand no chance against, it was practically in a euphoric state at the moment.

The four hob goblins however were not enjoying the situation, they were only E-rank. Holding down Findlay even in his wounded state was unbelievably taxing on their bodies and every time the spriggan attacked or spoke to Findlay he would lash out making their job that much harder. Internally they were complaining, begging the spriggan to shut up but of course they wouldn’t say that out loud. The mad look in the spriggan’s eyes sent chills down their spines, they refused to talk out of turn, afraid of the consequences, just hoping that their strength would hold out until the end.

The pain Findlay was feeling right now was incredible, far more than the time he was attacked by Barren and the Sanguine Snakes. At least then he could fight back with his body filling with adrenaline, this however was just torture without an outlet to vent. The hob goblins prevented him from resisting with his powerful physical strength, every time he tried to escape their grasp he’d be met with more pain and the gloating face of the damn spriggan before he’d be hit in the chest once again. His mind was starting to go dark and his body losing feeling, too much pain and blood loss. This chute was incredibly dark but if a light was shining, you’d be able to see a trail of blood that leaked from Findlay, painting it red.

The loss of feeling and the spriggan mocking him more than hitting allowed him to regain a small amount of clarity. He opened his eyes wide and focused upon the spriggan, he was in no state to create magic crests in order to summon ice bolts, but he did have a unique skill that just required mana. Grasping onto the small amount of focus he had, Findlay relaxed his body as best he could, no longer fighting against the hob goblins, he activated the special gland in his lungs and chose his target well.

The sudden shift in temperament didn’t elude the spriggan but it simply believed that Findlay had given up, bringing its ugly green mug closer to his face, it smiled in triumph. Spriggans though mischievous and have the ability to transform, are very weak in terms of magic. Whether that be using it or sensing mana, well regular spriggan such as this one were. It didn’t even sense its impending doom. The hob goblins weren’t much different, these one’s were brawlers, full of physical strength but not much else, simply grateful for the end of Findlay’s attempts to escape, they breathed out in relief.

A moment later however that relief turned to terror. Findlay opened his eyes and the ice breath gland in his lungs started firing on all cylinders. Opening his mouth wide, a frigid cold beam of super chilled gas fired from his mouth, directly onto the spriggan’s face.

“Gyahhhhhhhh!” The spriggan roared in pain as its face and upper body were blasted by the breath, the sudden coldness burned its flesh before sending it flying off Findlay’s chest and into the wall. Findlay didn’t stop there, utilising his body’s natural resistance to ice he turned his face and frost breath towards the hob goblins, starting with the one on his left arm.

The hob goblin didn’t even get time to scream before the breath was upon him and unlike the spriggan he didn’t just get off with freezing burns no his entire body was rapidly frozen turning him into a popsicle. This was due to the vast difference in rank, the hob goblin’s magic resistance was nowhere near enough to avoid this fate. Shame was that Findlay now had a frozen hob goblin bonded to his wounded left arm but that’s a problem for later.

Happy with the result and not wanting to waste the precious few seconds he could maintain his breath attack he switched over to another one of the hob goblin assailants but before he could, he suddenly felt the chute against his back end. He and the hob goblins were now flying in the air while the spriggan was lagging behind, bouncing down the chute as it held its face in pain.

The hob goblins acted quickly, releasing themselves from Findlay the moment they became weightless. They pushed against him, separating themselves in the four...well three directions before.

Boom!

Findlay smashed into a hard wall, his head almost splitting apart from the impact, his vision grew dark, and he blacked out.

Meanwhile back in Frost’s private space, he noticed that his monsters in the offensive team were being cut down fairly quickly and quickly reached out to contact Findlay but got no response. Panic quickly ensued as he tried to contact him several times without any luck. Findlay didn’t show up as dead, but something must have happened. He couldn’t lose Findlay, even if he won the war losing someone like Findlay wouldn’t make it worth it. He was a peak C-rank monster that he couldn’t summon again anytime soon, plus he was his right hand man.

Taking a deep breath to calm down Frost contacted the second highest monster in the offensive team, one of the frost trolls. Two were on defence, one being the commander and the other acting as back up on the second floor. The final one went along with Findlay as part of his offensive team, the only D-rank present. The frost troll didn’t command nearly as much respect as Findlay and was relegated to the same level as the many frost dwarves but without Findlay it was the only one who he could communicate with, albeit with broken common tongue.

Without Findlay there was also no one else capable enough to lead this many monsters and act as a symbol of strength. Compared to the hob goblin commanders, a frost troll was rather lacklustre in attributes and talents but when it came to simply physical exchanges the D-rank hob goblin commanders weren’t a match. Whereas Findlay was at the head of the force, this frost troll brought up the rear and usually worked as leader of the larger scouting forces, thankfully Findlay didn’t split up his men in this room. The Frost troll was currently fighting and trying to bring back order to its wayward comrades, doing its best to push back the hob goblins and goblins attacking them in mass.