Blood spurted in an arc from the goblin’s neck. It only had time to exhale its last breath in surprise before the force of the blow sent it spinning away, crashing into the underwood.
image [https://i.postimg.cc/NMjMqhqQ/persimmon0-young-redheaded-male-knight-with-a-silver-sword-figh-44849466-b001-43ce-8797-597f607b2710.png]
Oliver kept a wary eye on his surroundings but allowed himself to relax from his stance. The others were just cleaning up the last remains of the tribe that had been foolish enough to assault them, so he had time to walk over the goblin he had just struck down.
It was face up, eyes lost in the abyss as death encroached. Oliver pushed his sword into its skull, ending its life once and for all.
He didn’t particularly enjoy making his kills suffer more than needed. Sir Leonard had told him it was a good thing as long as he could still do what was needed, and he had taken it to heart.
It was a pity that this goblin tribe had been so stupid. He had heard stories that distant nations managed to integrate the buggers somehow, and he had always been curious about what that would look like.
Goblins in Haylich were widely considered pests and, as a rule, slaughtered on the spot. This wasn’t done out of cruelty, as when their tribes became large enough and formed a horde, they could threaten entire duchies, given their prodigious breeding abilities.
The thought of subduing them and integrating them into the army was an intriguing one, and he wondered if he might be able to do something about it. Technically, he had no official role beyond being the Grand Marshal’s squire, but that was enough to offer him political weight.
Light, I’ve changed. If my ma’ heard me right now, she might think a doppelgänger had taken my skin. I used to only talk about swords and fighting, but now I’m considering the political realities of leveraging my position to form a goblin Corp.
How much he had grown under his mentor’s wing in the past months was astonishing.
Oliver had gone from a street rat working as a herb gatherer or gutter cleaner, constantly worrying about bringing enough food home to feed his family after his father died to a voidling, to an honest-to-light squire. He had a sword, armor and mentor!
“Clear!” He yelled after doing a sweep of the area. Luckily, this particular tribe was only made of adults, which marked them as rejects of a larger one.
They’d have to remember the location, as he doubted the humanoids had moved too far from the original group.
If there had been babies, which was always a possibility with goblins, they’d have been forced to end them, and Oliver didn’t think he could have stomached that.
“You did good, kid.” A cheerful voice told him.
Oliver turned around and saw that Jonathan, the sergeant assigned to the squad, was walking toward him, a necklace made of animal teeth and sinew in his hands.
“Catch!”
Oliver was almost forced to let go of his sword, but his training kicked in, and before he even realized it, he grabbed the necklace with his left hand while keeping his sword ready for any attack. His mentor enjoyed distracting him and then punishing that distraction too often for him to react in any other way.
“Hey!” He grumbled, annoyed. Then he brought the necklace closer and peered at it confusedly. “Why did you do that?”
“I thought you might be able to understand what this thing’s for. The leader wore it, but I couldn’t tell what it was doing before I cut it down. As far as I know, you are the only one here with actual magical training.” Jonathan explained.
Sighing, Oliver allowed a spark of mana to flow into his eyes. He couldn’t [Appraise] things, but [Mana Sight], the skill Belinda had spent an entire month teaching him, was enough to get the gist of simple artifacts like the one he was holding.
If it had been any more complex, he would have given up and told the sergeant to wait until they rejoined the main force, but it wasn’t, so he kept his complaints to himself. With his six foot four and cheerful demeanor, Jonathan was one of the few people who treated him normally and not like a prince of some kind.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
The soldiers didn’t bow or scrape thankfully, given the nature of the revolution they were fighting for, but they very much made him feel as if he was somehow better than them.
It was uncomfortable for Oliver, so he kept mostly to himself and his mentor. When the opportunity to take part in a sweep had been offered, he jumped to take it, hoping he would at least get some experience.
Blinking back the mana, Oliver returned the necklace, “It’s a poison detector. It warms up when close to poisonous stuff. I have no idea how these goblins could have made it since they had no druids, so they must have stolen it.”
The sergeant hummed thoughtfully and put the artifact in his pouch, “It might come useful, or I might sell it down the line. People generally don’t like obviously tribal stuff, but some adventurers might not care. Here, take this.”
With that, he proffered a small silver coin. Oliver almost choked on his spit at the sight. It was enough money that he could feed his family for two weeks if he were careful with it.
While he was getting paid four of the coins per month as part of his apprenticeship, it was still a lot of money to wave about carelessly.
Jonathan thrust the hand forward, urging him to take it, “Oh, come on. If I had waited to go back to Alpar and went to one of those stuffy mages, they would have made me pay three times as much. I doubt you want to rip me off, but work should be paid. Sir Gerard always makes sure everyone gets their due, even if I’m pretty sure he had to pay us out of pocket in advance lately. This is yours by right.”
There didn’t seem to be a good way to reject him after that, so Oliver accepted the money. He put it in his enchanted pouch, which Belinda had gifted to him two months ago for his birthday, and put the matter out of his thoughts.
Despite the Darkwood not being exactly teeming with dangerous creatures on the outskirts, and even in the deeper parts after the destruction wrought by the Void, it wasn’t a place where one could carelessly wander without paying attention.
Sir Leonard is gonna pull my ears if I get hurt because I got distracted thinking about money. We’ll arrive at Thelma in less than a day, so I need to start mentally preparing for the coming battle.
Oliver prowled forward, the soldiers around him spreading out to prevent anything from attacking all of them at once.
His sensory skills were still far from being deemed good enough by his mentor. Still, the general enhancement he could cast upon himself allowed him to navigate the forest with a grace that usually belonged to rangers.
No further excitement disturbed their patrol save for a grove of treants they avoided and marked on the map, and so they rejoined the main force in short order. There were no grandiose pavilions like one might expect from listening to the stories of the wars past. However, the air around the three commanders of the Revolutionary Force was still heavy with gravitas.
“I’m back!” Oliver announced, earning a brief smile from his mentor.
Lady Amelia joined them then and gave a look at the three men, “Alright, what has got you three so annoyed?”
Oliver somehow managed not to blush, though that might be because he was staring straight ahead. The spirit channeler was jaw-dropping, and he was a growing boy. Though she was intimidating enough that he never saw anyone approach her, everyone considered her the most beautiful woman in Haylich. Since she was Sir Leonard’s close friend, he had the chance to develop a bit of a resistance to her presence, but not enough that he could ignore her entirely.
“Matheus, come over here!” Sir Leonard’s voice rose over the marching of the army, and a man Oliver recognized as the first to surrender from the 104th arrived.
“Grand Marshal! My Lords!” The soldier snapped to attention.
“At ease, Matheus. We were just going over what you told us about Thelma’s remaining forces' composition and comparing it with what we extracted from Captain Vettel.” Sir Leonard replied with a smile that, if anything, seemed to make the man stand even more straight. “Give us another summary.”
“Of course! As far as individual combatants, there are only three left that could pose a significant challenge. I expect one of them, the adventurer Grimbeard, to not participate in the fighting. He’s very independent and doesn’t like the mayor. As long as no significant damage is done to the Guild building, he’s probably gonna stay there. The other two are Bertrand, the Captain of the town guard, a Third Blessing Knight with significant experience in fighting, and Neer, the Mayor’s slave guard. She’s a half-orc and is known to be brutally efficient when she fights. I don’t know her specific blessing, but I believe she is at least an Expert or even a Master.” Matheus relayed stiffly. “As for the others, the mages are the ones to watch out for. I don’t think they have any powerhouses, but I remember hearing rumors that they could cast powerful wards through rituals so that they might do that.”
“Thank you, Matheus. That was all.” Sir Leonard dismissed the man, who snapped another salute and rejoined the army.
Lady Amelia hummed, evidently having understood something that Oliver hadn’t grasped yet. Participating in these meetings always made his head feel like it was overstuffed, but he wouldn’t give it up for the world. They made him feel like he was contributing, and once in a while, Leonard would even ask for his opinion.
When Oliver privately said he felt embarrassed to share his thoughts with so many important people, his mentor calmly explained that he was there precisely because he wasn’t one of them. Having a completely different point of view allowed them all to consider things they would have usually missed.
Most of the time, though, it made Oliver feel quite dumb.
“You are wondering how much they’ll leverage the slave population since they don’t have a chance in hell to face us on the battlefield.” The Lady finally said, revealing what the problem was.
Oliver’s mind briefly struggled before he made the connection. Paradoxically, their crushing victory against the 104th was doing them a disfavor now. If the Lord Mayor of Thelma had believed he could reasonably win the coming battle, he would have likely ordered his forces out of the town, where they could have dismantled them in short order.
However, since they lost so crushingly, they were unlikely to give them a shot at an easy win. Much more likely, they would turtle up behind the walls and force them to besiege Thelma, wasting a lot of time.
A slow smile spread over Lady Amelia’s features, and Oliver was forced to redirect his attention elsewhere lest his blush become incandescent.
“You are lucky I’ve already prepared a solution for this problem.” She said, earning some incredulous looks. Sir Leonard, however, only nodded. Oliver knew that he had unwavering trust in her.
“I imagine you’ll be taking advantage of Lia’s contacts?” The Hero asked, earning a nod.
“Yes, I have arranged for one of her old apprentices to meet me soon. I’ll have to leave briefly if I want to get there without being noticed, but I should be able to complete the work for when you arrive with the army. I’ll send word once I’m done.”
Sir Gerard and Sir Gareth shared an incredulous look, apparently not used to the ridiculous expectations the two members of the Heroic Party had for each other.
Oliver gave the two men a smile of commiseration. They’d get used to it soon enough.