He swiftly cut the leg off, before driving his sword through the soft underside of its iron-like jaw.
"Now you see," he said. It wasn't a question, it was a pronouncement. He could feel the fear emanating from them as thickly as he needed to be. He reached forward with a divine hand, and twirled the fog until it was bound in his hand like a slaver's rope. "Flee this place," he told them. "And ensure that none of your kind set foot here for the rest of the day."
He didn't know if they would carry out the second part of that order, but they certainly carried out the first part with a shocking willingness. They darted back into the trees like bullets, leaving messy marks through the snow behind them.
Sure that they were gone, Oliver began to make his own way away. He chose the cleaner of the two kills and began to drag it away, back to the trail that led him there.
Even after a good five minutes of dragging, that normally active part of the forest remained suspiciously quiet, making Oliver wonder just how effective his order had been. If there had been more time, he might have been curious enough to check on the creatures.
He briefly stored that idea away for future use, deciding that it would be useful to have an understanding of just how far that power might be able to reach, should he need it in future.
He reached the appointed position on the trail once again, and once more he saw no sign of his companions. This time, however, he didn't force himself to wait. He'd completed this task just as quickly as the last, but he was confident enough that the trail would remain safe for them.
And even if it didn't, the threats would be nothing that they could not deal with, unlike with the Gocks, where it was far more likely to catch them off guard and leave them in a serious situation.
Using that extra time, he sprinted in the direction of the next target: the Wood Sprites.
These were too far off. In fact, he didn't even need to return to the main thoroughfare in order to reach these. He was able to make use of the branching path that the trail towards the Gorebeasts provided, before leaving it, in favour of another connecting trail of a similar size.
This closeness was another reason that he felt it fine to rush ahead of his retainers – he had in mind that he could bring back the Wood Sprite corpse onto the Gorebeast trail, thus cutting their own journeys down, and allowing them the time they needed to catch up, so that he could rush ahead once more.
That too would put his mind at ease, for as well as the Wood Sprites itself, it was host to another species of lesser monster that he was unfamiliar with. And, as with anything, it was the unfamiliar that proved to be the most challenging to overcome. This enemy, particularly, was as troublesome as the Gocks, if not more so.
Whilst not particularly strong – they lacked the capacity to fell an opponent instantly – they were near impossible to track, and practically inevitable, whenever there were enough monstrosities in an area to allow for their existence.
A particularly pure spring on-route to the Wood Sprite area made these two monsters almost symbiotic in their relationship. The Water Sprites – the lesser creatures that Oliver was wary of confronting – helped to keep the area lush and vibrant, even in winter.
The change was immediately obvious, now that it was winter. The lack of snow foretold of their presence, as did the thick green undergrowth that arose so suddenly out of the ground, as though it were the heart of summer. Where they dwell, prosperity ensued, but only for the shortest periods of time.
As a monster, they seemed rather innocent upon first reading, but the effect on their respective environments was plague-like. They could destroy an entire ecosystem within the span of one or two seasons if they were left unchecked.
After all, there were other factors in play that stopped a tree from bearing fruit all year round. It wasn't merely a fact of weather. There were limited amounts of nutrition in a soil, and even the tree or plant itself was genetically predisposed towards bearing such a strain so frequently.
One way or another, something would run out and give way, creating death wherever the water sprites dwelled too long.
These were some of the gamekeeper's more troublesome monsters to keep. They had to cycle their location every year, so as not to put too much strain on the land that they were in.
Just as they were troublesome for gamekeepers they were troublesome too for warriors. Their forms were even smaller than that of a Gock, and there was a translucency to them that made them especially difficult to spot in the dull light. Not only that, their excessive numbers – at times – made them rather overwhelming.
As Oliver ran through the long grass, his sword out, looking for their presence, he felt a sudden twinge of aggression from off to his right. It wasn't much – he would have missed it had he not been looking for it – but it was enough to get him to stop dead in his tracks.
There, where he'd just been about to step, a blubbery star-shaped ball of blue went sailing out in front of him, its arms swinging, and its tiny piranha-like teeth showing. For the size of its body, it managed to attain a magnificent height with its leap, but the fall still got to it. It landed with a splatter, reduced to a flat and ineffectual puddle. It took it a second before it reformed itself.
That was their troublesome quality – their ability to reform like that. Should a swordsman strike them and remove an arm or a leg or even a head, the creature would quickly be able to reform itself, as though nothing had happened at all.