The Slayer was moving towards Jake.
"Don't come close, don't come close! Unless you want to get smitten by the greatest summoner in the world."
Jake didn't know lightning spells; in fact, he lacked the affinity or mana talent for magic. It was a bluff so obvious that even a child wouldn't believe it. But maybe...
The Slayer stopped dozens of meters away and kneeled.
Seeing that, Jake jerked a little, trying his best to maintain a poker face. But he'd never played poker.
Jake's face shifted from fear to confusion. He kept staring at the Slayer, watching his every move.
Then, with a raspy and hoarse voice, it rang out, "Master Corvus, I am the mercenary hired by your family to escort you back."
Fear didn't leave Jake alone; his thoughts spontaneously burst forth, one by one.
'A mercenary kneeling? A knight, that much even I know. Who is he? Why the pretense?'
Before he could finish his thought, the voice addressed him again, "Young Master, let's go home."
With that, the Slayer rose to his feet again, marching towards his objective.
"Wait, wait... First, unhand my goblins; they are summons. And I have a few questions to ask."
The Slayer halted in his tracks, looked back at his prisoners shackled with rope around them, and then turned his head back towards Jake. Unnerving and nonchalant, he spoke.
"You can dis-summon them..."
The two goblins, still conscious, looked towards their master. Their eyes conveyed their grief and suffering. Both of them cursed for life, and the curse was awkwardly smiling. Both shook their heads in dejection.
"That I can do, but it will be weak. My summons are not weak." Saying that, Jake made a fist and brought it near his chest.
Dummy's eyes glittered; he had found hope. His master might not be an untalented hobo.
But the truth was grim, as we know. Nerdy, too.
With that, Jake hurried to try and de-summon his goblins before they made him feel more guilty.
'I will build a goblin harem for both of you, just wait. You've got a benevolent master.'
But that was far from the truth; the goblins were going to suffer the worst the world could inflict on anyone. But that is for the future...
Jake finally found the description of his goblins' summoning skill. It stated that to de-summon his goblins, he just had to retract his lent mana from them, and their corporeal form would then disintegrate.
'Quite convenient, they can be a good source of bait.'
Jake finally de-summoned two miserable wretches. Retracting mana felt like un-puking vomit. It was disgusting.
'Ugh... that's disgusting... it was like inhaling vomit... and I had to do it twice for the two... didn't...'
Jake shouted, "Where is Gloo—"
A shadow of a tiny man lunged at the Slayer. Before he could even react, a sharp end of a stick was thrust into a gap in his armor. Immediately, a downpour of blood rained on the canvas of the forest.
[You have killed a Mercenary, Leon Lionheart]
"NANNNNNNIIIIIIIIIIII!"
The voice of the system cut him off.
[Your Goblin, Gloomy, has received a title: A Shadow of Vengeance.]
[Your Goblin has received a class.]
[Do you want to change your summons' class?]
Jake gawked, mouth gaping. He was bombarded, shocked, even bamboozled.
Such a turn of events would drive anybody insane, but that was just the start of Jake Miller's adventures in Ignaria. And believe me, I would... unless...
*A glasses-wearing fat man prompts*
Here is your story of a Goblin Summoner and his three goblins...