Chapter 121: Peril in the Deep Forest (I)

"Simply monitoring Viss and his group is not enough. I must catch up with Viss as soon as possible and eliminate this threat with my own hands!" Kotar’s eyes glinted with malice. "There are still those in the tribe who privately hope Viss will return to overthrow my rule. Only by killing him and displaying his head in public can I completely sever the thoughts of those who are double-minded."

"Hunting down Viss and his party is necessary, but there is no need for you to trouble yourself, Chieftain," Elder Basong said with a solemn expression. "Do not forget that General Letu of the Screaming Tribe is arriving at the swamp soon to sign a covenant and discuss the operational plan for conquering Delin Town. If you are not present at such a critical moment, what would General Letu think? Would he not suspect that our tribe is intentionally slighting him and lacks sincerity in forming an alliance?"

Kotar’s expression shifted slightly as he listened, and he nodded. "The Elder is right. I must personally receive General Letu to show my sincerity! Then, whom should I send to lead the pursuit of Viss?"

"I cannot trust anyone else; there is no guarantee they won't be swayed by Viss's glib tongue."

"Surely you cannot go yourself? If you leave, who will perform the magic to monitor the enemy’s movements?" Kotar spread his hands in a dilemma.

Elder Basong chuckled and stroked his chin. "If I am not mistaken, Viss and his companions are likely heading to the human military camp in the south of the Delin Valley to seek help. The road from Delin Town to the camp passes through the outskirts of the Screaming Forest. The Screaming Forest is the territory of the goblin race. Since General Letu is already our ally, why not ask him to send his men to intercept Viss? That would save us from staining our own hands with the blood of our kin."

"A brilliant idea!" Kotar clapped his hands and laughed. "We shouldn't be the only ones expressing sincerity; it is time for the goblin race to show their sincerity in this alliance as well—I imagine General Letu wouldn't mind helping us resolve this little nuisance of a Viss!"

...

"Ure!"

Joann pressed his thumbs together and splayed his other four fingers outward, forming a gesture resembling the wings of a bird in flight. As he chanted the Quenya incantation for "burning," flames erupted from his fingertips, unfurling into a searing, fan-shaped curtain that extended fifteen feet ahead of him.

Gathered within this fire-scorched zone were no fewer than ten goblins. These ugly little monsters stood only three feet tall, their brownish-yellow skin mottled with patches of green and blue fungal rashes. Dressed in greasy, filthy fur vests, their oversized heads looked disproportionately large compared to their spindly, fragile bodies—their thin necks seemed as if they might snap at any moment, causing those heavy skulls to topple off.

Just seconds earlier, this pack of goblins had been brandishing maces, ferociously charging at the one-eyed mage while shouting threats in broken Common, trying to intimidate Joann into surrendering. But when Joann cast "Burning Hands," setting the goblins at the front ablaze, those trailing behind immediately let out terrified shrieks and turned to flee faster than they had charged, disappearing into the depths of the dense forest in a blur.

Joann watched the goblins retreat, shook his head with contempt, and turned back toward the campsite to help Jamie drive off another group of goblins attempting to steal the horses amidst the chaos.

It had been two days since Joann and his group left Delin Town. The first day's journey had been primarily along the flat, open banks of the Delin River, and they had encountered no accidents. The militia squad, having traveled for a day and a night, camped in the Delin Valley. That night was calm, allowing the two spellcasters in the team—Joann and Viss—to rest fully and replenish their spell slots.

Starting this morning, however, they had been forced to leave the main course of the Delin River and struggle along a tributary flowing toward the Brass Mountain Pass in the south. This tributary wound through the outskirts of the "Screaming Forest," and to reach their destination as quickly as possible—and to avoid getting lost—Joann and his companions were forced to travel through the dense woods along the river.

The journey had been far from peaceful. From dawn until late at night, they had been repeatedly ambushed by goblins. Counting the wave currently attacking the camp, they had already repelled four goblin harassment attempts that day, yet shortly after each, more goblins would emerge from the forest, screaming and pillaging.

Joann raised his hand and fired a "Ray of Frost," striking a goblin that was waving a mace and cursing at the warhorses. The startled horse lashed out with a heavy kick, its iron-shod hoof shattering the little clown's nose instantly and sending him writhing on the ground in agony.

Jamie, the half-blood winter wolf, exhaled a cone of frost that froze another goblin sneaking in from the side, allowing Grey’s heavy club to descend and crush the frozen creature into a pulp.

Joann whistled, signaling Jamie and Grey not to chase the fleeing goblins; their priority was to protect the five warhorses from being snatched away.

After giving the order, Joann bypassed the campfire and ran toward the opposite tent. Viss, Tom, and the Tindall brothers were there, fighting off another group of goblins. The goblins in the jungle were endless; the most troublesome trait of these wretched little villains was their incredible rate of reproduction. Joann couldn't help but feel pessimistic, sensing that this was not the last attack of the day and that he would likely not get a good night's sleep.

It was evident that the Tindall brothers, Tom, and Viss had developed a rhythm throughout the day's fighting. Dick and Tom, the heavy-armored bruisers, stood in front with large shields, while Roger and Viss provided cover from the rear. Roger’s marksmanship remained as precise as ever; whenever a brilliant arc of electricity erupted from his gun barrel, a goblin would take a shot to the head and drop.

Joann also noticed that Viss had only cast "Entangle" at the start of the battle to hinder the goblins; afterward, he refrained from using spells, opting instead to use a large slingshot. The egg-sized stones he fired left goblins dazed and bleeding, and before they could recover, they were finished off by Dick or Tom.

Joann realized that Viss was deliberately conserving his spell slots, likely sensing that tonight would be far from peaceful and that there would be no time for quiet meditation to replenish his magic. Thus, he was consciously preparing for a war of attrition.

Viss’s fighting style inspired Joann, who decided to save his 1st-level spell slots for emergencies until the situation became clearer. As for the goblins, he chose to deal with them using his only offensive 0-level cantrip, "Ray of Frost." Cantrips had no slot limits and could be cast indefinitely. Although the "Ray of Frost" was weak, the pathetic goblins couldn't withstand more than two shots.

Just as he prepared to cast his spell, the aberration eye behind Joann’s neck caught a glimpse of a dark shadow flitting by. In the blink of an eye, it merged with the shadow cast by the tent, making not the slightest sound.