"Huh?"
Sprite Thistle scratched her head, a puzzled look on her face.
"That's strange. I'm sure it was right here."
As if afraid Gauss would think she'd lied, she led her kin around most of the camp's perimeter, hunting for any trace of goblins.
But no matter how wide the sprites' eyes went, they couldn't spot a single goblin.
Gauss flared his nostrils.
The goblin stench in the air was already faint.
It looked like a group had lived here—but they'd been gone for a while now.
"Were they wiped out by someone else—or killed by another monster?" Alia came up beside Gauss and stood on tiptoe to peer across the brush into the clearing.
"Unlikely," Gauss said, shaking his head. "No blood traces anywhere."
His bright green eyes swept the area.
Within his field of view the soil looked normal—no battle craters, no dark, packed patches where blood had soaked in.
"Feels like they moved—or were mustered."
Studying the surroundings, Gauss grew more certain they were closing in on the commission target.
Normally, swallowing a goblin band of equal or greater size without bloodshed is hard. If there's no sign of a fight, it only means one side's power utterly dwarfed the other's.
"Sorry…" The sprites drooped back to them, heads down. "We made you come here for nothing."
"It's fine," Gauss said with an easy wave and a smile. "That's useful intel in itself."
Killing another dozen goblins would be nice—but learning from their withdrawal might be worth more.
"Let's head to the next spot."
No one on the team showed the slightest fatigue with the plan.
…
Late that night.
Firelight pushed back the dark between the trees.
The flames threw warm, wavering light across their faces. Dry sticks in the pit glowed red and popped crisply; sparks flurried up and vanished in the cool night air.
After a day of marching and fighting, the quiet felt especially precious.
Gauss decided to unwind for once and cooked a steaming hotpot-style stew for the team.
It was simple—like any traveler's trail cooking: a small iron pot over the fire; a little fat to sweat chopped onion, dried meat, and spices; then creek water, chunks of potato, and edible roots. Broth done.
After that, whenever they wanted to eat, they just dropped prepped ingredients from a basket into the pot to flash-cook.
The idea came from the hotpots of Gauss's previous life.
Alia, Serandur, and Shadow were wide-eyed at the novelty. In this world you mostly roast, pan-sear, or stew—and even stews are "everything in at once," not tableside swishing.
"Take this slotted spoon, drop the sliced meat in, swish a few times, and it's ready."
"I'll try."
Alia took the custom slotted spoon, slid in thin-sliced meat, swished a few times as Gauss said, watched the color deepen, then portioned it out.
"Sauces."
Gauss had tried to recreate what he knew, but perfection was impossible. Soy sauce became a salty fish-ferment brine; sesame paste became nut butter; plus salt, black pepper, garlic, onion, vinegar, lemon juice, and a wasabi-like heat. His favorite satay had no proper stand-in yet. It would do.
The others mixed their own bowls, then ate with the meat.
"Mmm, this is great." Alia was surprised—and delighted. "Why haven't you done this before?"
"Had to source all the condiments," Gauss said with a rueful smile.
Even finding this much had taken work. Only now that he wasn't scraping by could he track them down; to common folk, many of these are pricey luxuries. Without coins, even a flash of genius won't invent a dish like this.
Serandur and Shadow said little, but were clearly satisfied.
Gauss hadn't forgotten the rest of the "team," either. He'd brought plenty, and they'd hunted plenty—more than enough for a feast. Ulfen and Echo got good portions of meat. The sprites took vegetables and happily dug in.
Watching them, Gauss thought that maybe, when he retired, he could open a restaurant.
After the meal, they cleaned the cookware together and lay down to rest.
Gauss sat by the fire, eyes on the dancing light while his mind sank inward.
Total Monsters Kill: 3,940.
Even though a few goblin camps had turned up empty during the day, the pace was still good. The 4,000 milestone—and the next reward—was within reach. Tomorrow should do it.
He stared into the flames a moment longer. Hit the mark, take the reward, digest it, then head for the mining goblins the sprites had mentioned. By their intel, it wasn't close—nearly into the mountains.
Suddenly, an alarm rang in his ear.
He snatched up his wand and called out to the team.
"Heads up—something's coming! My Alarm triggered!"
Truth be told, Shadow was already on her feet before he spoke; her senses had caught it even earlier.
Thwip!
Her arrow hissed away. Blood sprayed from a distant bush, followed by a heavy thud.
Only then did Gauss catch a thread of goblin stink.
He and Serandur exchanged a glance, both noticing the problem. Serandur's nose was usually razor-sharp—yet he hadn't sensed them at all. Only the Alarm had.
No time to think about it now.
Shadow's shot had pulled the curtain.
Almost the instant the arrow left the string, a dozen small, swift figures in red hoods burst from the darkness around the camp!
The night raiders had smeared their skin with dark plant juice in odd patterns that all but erased their scent.
Redcap Goblins?
Gauss arched a brow. He'd cleared a Redcap tribe when he first hit Level 1—but then, only the leader wore the red cap. Now the vanguard alone had a dozen.
They'd come hard. Not quite Level 1 in threat individually, but close—top of the bottom rung. A typical party of four Level-1s would be mauled—or wiped—by a midnight rush like this.
Gauss didn't panic.
The white wand in his hand glowed.
A clay goblin hauled itself up nearby, then a clay gnoll, then four clay spiders.
Summons done, the wand's tip lit blue. In a blink, Magic Missiles formed and lanced out, comet-bright in the dark, into the charging Redcaps.
He didn't upcast them—he down-tiered them to minimum cost.
No need to use a sword to cut a chicken.
Right now, common goblins that aren't elites are ants to him; with his stack of buffs, even Level 1–2 elites drop in a snap. Around Level 3+ he starts paying closer attention.
The others moved just as fast. Shadow's arrows poured out like a string of pearls, her hand rock steady—each shaft punched the throat of a goblin sprinting full-tilt.
Fire light was poor; Gauss cast Light to kindle nearby stones, then had the clay goblin fling them like meteors to scatter light across the trees.
Only then did the sheer number closing in become clear. The red-hooded dozen were just the scouts. The ring tightening around them was thick with goblins—too many to count at a glance.
"Good grief. Did the goblins go mad?" Gauss thought. The black mass didn't press him in the least. If anything, it made him want to laugh. Long practice breeds confidence; for Gauss, killing goblins is muscle memory.
He'd thought he'd have to wait till morning; at this rate, he'd hit the milestone tonight.
The white wand shone again. Six Magic Missiles set in a hex.
Whoosh!
Another volley—+6 to the running total.
The rest couldn't close quickly. Everyone on the team was strong. Even the tiny sprites proved far more dangerous than they looked, wings a blur as their needle-length weapons flashed white and sliced goblin flesh like mud.
With a glance, Gauss gauged each sprite at above an ordinary Level-1 in combat power. Add Ulfen, Echo, the powderwing butterfly; his clay goblin, clay gnoll, four clay spiders…
A "four-person" team fielded seventeen fighters—maybe eighteen. Frightening numbers.
Total Monsters Kill: 3,952.
Total Monsters Kill: 3,960.
…3,965
The counter raced. As Gauss cut goblins down, the constructs added to the tally.
"Something's off."
Magic Missiles formed at his wand while the thought crystallized. The goblins were shaking with fear—yet they charged anyway, throwing themselves at the camp. That violated basic survival instinct.
So—where were the elites?
A sharp, air-ripping crack tore through the night.
"Look out!"
The shadows at his feet came alive and surged up his body. Feeling a familiar power, Gauss didn't resist. Darkness swallowed his sight—and a heartbeat later he stood ten meters away beside Shadow.
BOOM!
Where he'd stood, a deafening blast carved a crater. Dirt, grass, and fire-ash geysered up; the shockwave caught a nearby clay goblin and shattered it.
At the crater's heart, a rough, enormous bone javelin, still red-hot, stuck upright. Grass at the bottom smoldered.
"Thanks—that was big," Gauss said, meaning it.
"No need," Shadow replied, eyes sliding away. She'd been watching him; the instant things felt wrong, she'd reached through his shadow. If the target didn't resist, she could pull them to her—a first-time use, and it worked.
She looked up; the strike had come from above.
Gauss followed her gaze. In the hazy moonlight, a rider on some giant bat skimmed the sky.
Goblin Bat Rider.
His brow twitched.
With the bat rider's reveal, more elites surfaced from the trees: Hobgoblins, Goblin Shamans, Two-Headed Goblins, Goblin Wolf Riders…
A dozen clearly elite signatures flared around them.
"This time," he said, "we're truly surrounded."
A hand like this only came from Blackfang.
He hadn't expected to be marked first—before he'd even gone hunting for them. They were still far from the tribe's mountain stronghold.
So… how?
He was here because of a guild commission. How did they know?
Was there already a bounty on him in goblin circles?
~~~
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