"Why am I even going back to that stupid town?"

A goblin kicked a rock by the roadside before squinting his eyes towards the horizon--nothing but the long road he's standing upon, wide plains of grass on both sides, and in the distance were some pockets of trees and sparse hills.

He was equipped with a dark halberd that was only slightly taller than him. His body was covered by leather armor, shirt, and trousers, while his head, a linen hat, all of which brownish in color.

It was a scorching hot day, clouds were either too far away or too small to protect his green skin from the sun's penetrating heat. Far from reducing it, his clothing only added to the overall discomfort.

It certainly didn't help that his old cart broke down when he was already out of stocks of water.

He had no specialized tools whatsoever that could be used to repair his wooden transport. The wheel seemed to be working just fine until yesterday and when he thought that he would reach Arkbay before nightfall, he suddenly got thrown sideways as the left wheel spat out in an attempt to escape away from the wretched port town.

Of course, a wheel could think of no such thing but if the goblin had a choice, he'd be glad to stay away from that place as well.

Just thinking of what happened six months ago made him rub the imaginary scar on his stomach. The wound might have been healed, but his mind was still undeniably scarred.

Grimacing at the memory, he took another quick peek under the formerly two-wheeled cart.

He grumbled at his misfortune. If he was going to be sent there anyway, a delay was by no means a convenience. Rather, a delay would mean he'd be out of civilization far longer, surrounded by monsters and wilderness.

He spared a glance at his trusty boar taking a nap under a large tree. At this rate, he would have to leave the cart behind and ride on Smoke.

Smoke, being the name of his black steed that was easily eight times heavier than he was.

The goblin smiled wearily when Smoke snored loudly, indicating that the pig had now completely fallen asleep.

It was going to be hard to wake him up now.

Even so, he had to apologize to the tired fellow.

No matter what it took, he definitely had to arrive before nightfall.

--------

During this time back at Arkbay, Kristoffer, together with his three companions--Penelope, Pula, and Carl--finally arrived at the town's gate.

Even if it was called a 'gate', that single word didn't do it justice.

Standing before them was a 7-meter tall, 7-meter wide, 7-inch thick, alloy gate. Not only was its size impressive, but it was also enchanted to resist elemental spells.

The gate was so heavy that the townsfolk decided to leave half of it open, the last time it was completely closed being 10 years ago.

On the other half that's kept closed, was a thinner, less secure wicket which somehow no longer had a purpose.

Overall, it was an impressive piece of a barrier.

If one found the gate imposing, then the wall that stretched on both sides would stir doubt on most opposing armies.

Such a wall was thick enough to have a road on top, and it stood mightily at 30 meters.

Unless the enemy had air units, they would have to bring a titan if they dreamt of even peeking over it.

It wouldn't be easy though. Numerous ballista were installed uniformly at the top, always ready to fire at a simple tug.

The wall surrounded the entire town in a semi-circle, with the sea on the other side acting as a wall of its own.

And thanks to being beside the sea, they were able to create a moat filled with various traps and horrifying surprises.

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A port that's also a fort.

Even if the residents were no longer awed by defenses' domineering presence, the pioneers who oversaw its completion still found pride in seeing the scanty visitors either gape their mouths or be unable to take their eyes away for a good minute at minimum.

Needless to say, Kristoffer, already 28, first came to this town when he was 8 years old. At the time, Arkbay was still considered a village and only had a wall of lumber, marked at 10 meters high.

No noble or royalty had the right to take pride in what this (formerly) tiny village had accomplished to do, but the people who had shed their sweat and torn their purses, most importantly, the dark elf who pioneered the baby steps up until it expanded into a bona fide town.

As for the men-at-arms who operated the defenses, while there was a militia corps formed, the Silver Mavericks became a more prominent force as they were directly trained by the Hero, Lime, since a young age.

Yet, almost at the same time as Lime disappeared, Quill appeared as if replacing her. Essentially, the organization Quill and her late husband led, simply called the Syndicate, had soon established the town as their headquarters.

Thus, for the last 9 years or so, the gate and walls were heavily guarded by these 3 groups.

The old Flame Tamer,

Kristoffer,

and Quill

led the said groups, respectively.

It was a mystery to outsiders, perhaps even to their own followers, how these differently minded people were rarely at each other's throats and instead kept a standard of mutual cooperation.

Nobody but God and these 3 individuals themselves entirely knew of the reasons.

And being ignorant of those reasons, unwanted rumors started to spread.

The militia and Mavericks were supposed to be allies since their founding, but after the Syndicate managed to deeply root themselves into this town, both sides suspected each other of being in cahoots with Quill's gang. Aside from their respective leaders, of course, who would deny such allegations.

Even so, the leaders strictly directed their subordinates to not cause any trouble.

The Silver Mavericks and the Syndicate were 'disciplined' quite thoroughly, much to the fortune of Kristoffer.

The militia meanwhile had been experiencing difficulties with the lack of discipline with the younger recruits.

All sides generally avoided antagonizing each other, and even if anyone did so from time to time since it's not completely unstoppable, none were dumb enough to strike first, lest that individual became a laughing stock of a reason for an all-out war.

Or so people thought. Naturally, the 3 leaders would use all of their power not to let it reach that point.

On that note, there were now 3 guard outposts present by the gate.

The outposts of the Mavericks and Syndicate faced each other on opposite sides of the road while the militia had already occupied a small two-story office built inside the wall beforehand.

As Kristoffer's group approached, the guards nodded to acknowledge their presence.

Kristoffer could only sigh every time he saw the weird collection of guards glaring at each other as if accusing the other of murder.

He even caught a glimpse of two militiamen bringing in a crying boy, about nine years old, then running back again in haste to the direction they came from.

Deliberately ignoring the crying child covered in slime and liquids, Kristoffer greeted the Mavericks on duty a good morning before asking whether they've seen the taxman.

The three men on duty were in their early 20's and they were already part of the oldest group. In fact, Kristoffer was the oldest among the Mavericks still residing in Arkbay. Those older than him had already settled in different cities and countries.

It was quite lonely whenever Kristoffer remembered his time with his seniors. He missed them. However, it couldn't be helped.

They did not leave purely out of selfishness or self-interest, them being in other places had purposes for the benefit of the group. Not only did they send money every once in a while, but they were also crucial in gathering intel. As far as they were concerned, intelligence was paramount during peacetime.  

Almost instantly, the three Mavericks guards got over the fact that Kristoffer paid no attention whatsoever to the child that was most convincingly a victim of a certain person they all knew.

Receiving their answer, Kristoffer thanked them and reminded them to report anything strange. The three glanced at the weeping boy being comforted by the militia, but even if they wanted to say anything, Kristoffer had already returned to his companions.

"What did you mean by 'the taxman's already in town'? There was not even a shadow of the guy!"

"Calm down, Kristoffer," Carl said. "I never told you to go straight for the gate right away. You haven't even washed your face yet."

Pula put a hand on Kristoffer's shoulder. "I think you should get rid of this weird notion that it's never obvious whether a person just woke up or not as long as they fix their hair."

"Your girlfriend's right, Kristoffer." 

Penelope shot Carl a brief glare, which Kristoffer noticed.

"Even so," Kristoffer said. "It's already noon in a couple of hours. I know dusk is still far but it would be dangerous if he does not arrive soon."

"Why? Are the monsters on the way here too strong for his guards to handle?" Penelope asked.

"The problem, dear, is that the poor guy doesn't have guards at all!" Pula laughed at the silly thought.

The succubus until the end, was someone that found pleasure when seeing people suffer. And the braineater adapted such personality to an extent.

However, imagining the tiny green fellow getting ripped to shreds while screaming, without any hope of help arriving... Pula turned silent on the spot.

"Is there something wrong?" Penelope asked.

If it was the succubus of the past, she would have most likely even ROFLed. However, schadenfreude was forcefully taken away from her mind. Any and all pleasure derived from the misfortune of others was replaced with trauma, evident when she reached for Kristoffer's arm as if it would calm down her nerves.

Kristoffer realized the reason for her behavior and he felt like he should apologize.

"I'm sorry for what happened."

"Don't be... It wasn't me you hung on the wall after all."

After experiencing a great torment, one would then fear and should learn to feel empathy towards others of the same fate.

Quill was always good at changing people's views.

Be that as it may, letting the 'original' succubus live was too risky because the woman fought back after declaring her supposed surrender. Frankly, sparing Pula was the least he could do. It was just unfortunate that she had the same memories.

Wiping a tear from her eye, Kristoffer proposed to the group, "Shall we meet him halfway?"

Pula and Penelope nodded at his words, albeit the former's was rather meek.

"Who, the taxman?" asked Carl. 

Of course, he meant the taxman. Kristoffer held back his annoyance from showing and nodded himself.

"How many people do we need?"

Now that's a real question. And a real problem too.

Despite being a fairly short journey at less than half a day on a fast horse, in between Arkbay and the nearest town was a land full of danger. The safe number for travelers would be at least a dozen.

Howbeit, the goblin surprised everyone by arriving almost unscathed the first time so he must be very capable. 

Assuming that he left the nearest town by dawn, he should arrive shortly. But it would be too optimistic to think he would not encounter any sort of problem on the way.

Now that they were aware of his arrival, they already made plans to meet him at an abandoned checkpoint.

It was just that Kristoffer forgot amidst everything that had happened so suddenly.

"Yo, Kristoff!"

Kristoffer turned to see Dina at the front of a wagon, with Fina peeking from the inside. He thought he also saw Victor perched inside.

Behind them was another wagon occupied by the militia.

They all appeared ready to go.

"Sheet," Kristoffer ran and it took him less than 15 minutes to return with the wagon he prepared.

Carl, Penelope, and Pula hopped on Kristoffer's wagon as if it was the normal thing to do. Not that he planned to protest, he was glad to bring them along.

With all three wagons together, aside from the 6 horses, they totaled 10 people. Just a couple less than the recommended quantity. 

"I have a feeling this will be an adventure," Carl said, smiling confidently.

"Don't jinx it. Doesn't that just mean there will be trouble?" Kristoffer said.

When he only got a shrug in reply, everyone sighed.

Pula shuffled closer to Kristoffer and whispered, "When it's Carl's turn to coach the horses, we could certainly have our own little adventure inside."

Pula left him beet red to his imagination and returned inside, finding a soft sack to sit upon.

When Kristoffer took a quick look behind, he saw Pula giving him a wink and a seductive smile.

This might be a fun journey after all!

~~~