NIGHT ATTACK
Rose walked along the perimeter of the farm, scanning the wooden wall for any unusual signs. At dusk, she assumed the duty of the night watch, along with others on the schedule.
Since leaving her family in the village, her life changed for the better. As a female offspring, she had suffered neglect and abuse under a father who spent the majority of his time in the tavern. From a young age, she learned to sweep the floor, light a fire, and beg for bread and firewood from relatives and neighbors.
As if that wasn't sufficient, the old man decided to cash in early on his investment. Stunned when she accidentally overheard the conversation by her parents, she hardened her heart to run away. Rose soon realized that the wall was not the only thing that separated the slums from the village.
Within a week, she understood that she had jumped from the kettle, into the fire.
Unlike the majority, she turned lucky, saved by her true family. Not only did she gain the luxury of eating three square meals a day, but she also focused on the primary goal to become a true adventurer. In this world, the number of female adventurers could be counted on one hand. As for women soldiers and mercenaries-- they were non-existent.
She sometimes met or bumped into her blood relations when she traveled to the village. On such occasions, she gestured with a nod and simple greeting before moving on. She had neither hate nor pity on her heart, just that she felt the farm had been her home all along.
Maybe if she remained illiterate and ignorant of the world, her family, if they knew of her present circumstances might play the blood relations card to ride on her present luck. Education on the farm did not only teach reading and mathematics. All those stories and experiences related by Mr. Thomas and the other elders had some worth.
Understanding the world, asking questions and finding a common link. Rose like many of the younger children, understood how humans ranged from smiling friendly faces to sneering, ruthless devils. Power to protect one's self came in many forms. Rose choose the path of the sword.
Before the arrival of the people from the Capital, her training had progressed smoothly. She had incorporated the martial skills Chu demonstrated, making her own actions during a fight more fluid and lethal.
Although she felt the same frustration as those who enjoyed training and hunting in the forest, she like the others knew this period of time played an important part in Chu's overall plan.
Rose did not interact much with the planning group, neither did she have much progress during the educational classes. As a thin girl from the village, her muscles and fat filled out perfectly in giving her a tall, graceful figure.
Her shoulder-length hair, tied in a pony-tail, did not impede her sight while fighting. The slender hands and legs bore small blemishes from scrapes and wounds in the forest, and her long white fingers and palms callused from swinging a sword.
A week before the visitors' arrival, Chu forced her along with the other women to begin using a watered down version of the potion Amanda used to disguise herself. Day by day, her cuts and scabs slowly began to disappear, while her hands regained some softness.
After witnessing the effects, no one paid attention to the slight swelling and discoloration when used. In fact, the womenfolk began issuing demands for the new lotion. There were other small 'tools' that aided in softening her looks, making Rose appearance in line with those women living among the higher classes.
Wooden combs to help loosen those knots and straighten one's hair, small sharpened shears, called scissors, made especially to cut and groom a girl's hair and eyebrows, and also small knives to trim the nails on the fingers and toes.
With the introduction of the etiquette classes, made mandatory for everyone, her previous hunched way of walking had been forcefully changed into a natural posture similar to the grace of a runway model. When she crouched into an attacking stance, her eyes did not stare at the ground, but straight ahead due to her straightened spine.
Since then, Rose treated this etiquette training seriously. Anything that could allow her to improve her movement and skill during fighting deserved special attention. She did not bicker like complain like another ungrateful male teen.
Having to spend nearly half a day stepping around with a book on your head could create wonders.
Rose climbed the north watchtower and joined one of the recent members of the family on patrol. In the darkness, the faint moonlight from an ever bright full moon cast a silver onto the grasslands. In the distance, the dark edge of the forest formed a shadowy border.
"Eh? Is something there?"
Rose followed the extended hand, squinting into the darkness. Two small shadows in the far distance to the north, slowly approached, zooming in larger. It did not take her long to recognize her hunting companions.
"Call Dyna, and keep an eye out on the visitor camp for prying eyes."
Chu swam in a clear pool that had gold coins as pebbles, glittering underwater in the bright sunlight. Under the marble carved cabana, top models and idols from different countries sipped their cold drinks. Clad in sexy bikinis, they cast him sultry gazes, while hoping to attract the attention of the Master of this domain.
A shapely girl in a risqué swimsuit surfaced nearby, beads of glistening droplets caressing down her wet hair and smooth tanned skin. She playfully flicked the water, sending a wave splashing towards him. His eyelids closed involuntarily on reflex, but when they opened and the haze cleared, a stubble filled face leaned over him shaking his resting body with rough hands.
"Eh, damn you Ming..."
Chu wiped the drool lingering from his mouth, desperately trying to recall his dream while sitting beside the long table in the barn. Around him, sitting or standing consisted of the members who performed the usual guard duty. The tense atmosphere and grim faces reflected the type of news just received.
He patted his forehead to shatter the remembrances. Serious matters lay at hand.
"Let me hear this again."
"The two wolves patrolling the forest near our lumber camp have returned. Jim let them in through the east gate since they circled around to hide from the visitors staying near the opposite gate."
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Chu nodded while looking at the little girl.
"What kind?"
"The approaching danger smells like the goblin Lucy caught in the forest."
Dyna reported. Ever since the guest arrived, they always knew the farm had a large wolf. They never suspected that out in the forest, two similar beasts roamed around freely. As for the confident statement on the type of threat, Chu, much less others would not dare to question.
Chu had viewed lots of films and documentaries highlighting the cunning and skills of animals. Some like chimps and killer whales could actually be trained to perform remarkable feats. In this world, Dyna's wolves proved that the phrase 'cunning as a wolf' truly existed.
The little girl's method might seem barbaric to some and ruthless to others. Since they began hunting, she created a simple form of communication. She started off with cured pieces of animals they hunted.
If she lined up those pieces in a line on the ground, the wolf would choose the piece belonging to whatever they saw. Pawing at a cured pheasant's foot while facing east, meant somewhere in that direction had a flock or a single one of those birds. Similar actions occurred with a Jaga claw or wolf teeth.
For over a year, this type of communication existed, up until they faced the bandits in the woods. Following that incident, Dyna took her wolf training to a higher level. Chu always suspected these wolves underwent some sort of change ever since the cubs feasted on the wolf demon's heart.
The forbidden experiment conducted by Dyna using the bandits seemed to have boosted their intellect. He would not be surprised if one day, he would wake up with a wolf speaking while shaking him with a paw. These bastards might do it to him just for fun. Dyna had them on the brink of an astounding breakthrough in communication.
The little pouch, with contents unbecoming of a young lady, now contained wooden tiles the size of mahjong or dominoes. Each tile had small characters carved into them, highlighted by ink stains. Instead of pointing at a dried foot, the wolf now pointed at the corresponding tile.
She had one tile separate from the others, marked with the word 'threat'. The wolf might not know to count, but it could point at the goblin and threat tile, indicating that the goblins possessed enough numbers or ability to threaten its life.
One thing to note is that the wolves always looked at Ming and pointed to the threat tile. The incident when he had shamed them while small always seem to weigh on their minds.
"Take a wolf and scout on the north side. Return as soon as you know where they decide to break from the forest"
Chu drummed his fingers as Dyna left.
"Doug, have two guards man the towers near both gates, send someone with Toll and Rugol to climb the windmill and guard the complex."
He did not want problems to occur, or anyone taking advantage of him during the raid to snoop around.
"Bon, get the multi-shot launcher ready. Good thing we changed the front legs into wheels. Looks like General Kettle won't have to wait until tomorrow for his demonstration."
Chu rubbed his hands. Bon choose a few helpers, and turned to leave, but then paused.
"Boss, we also have two more built but untested. Do you want to use them tonight?"
***
"Yaah!"
Cust smacked a grinning goblin on the head when the unruly maniac sneaked to the front. As a veteran of countless skirmishes within the forest, he also had experience in conducting raids on human farms. Each one of the ten Captains under the Vanguard General had success in previous raids during the forced stay in the south.
Now that the news from the north spoke of the departure of the dreadful demon, the goblin clans thirsted for the thrill of raids. The vanguard consisted of the most successful applicants among the raiders. To any survivors and human victims, they had the reputation of the most vicious, bloodthirsty, and the like.
The strike force consisted of his very own goblins, with an additional twenty from the vanguard army itself. He led this mammoth force of forty goblins, against the suspected small farm. This farm to the far south of the village incurred the wrath of his General, and so needed to pay the ultimate price.
The extra support from Lord Pocong, ensured the farm would have no surviving message-bearers. This raid would entail a full, silent wipeout.
Under this little battalion, erasing some farmer, while abducting the women, was like sending him to butcher a hare. He only hoped they could find some good playthings while pillaging for food. The General had beaten into him to erase all traces of the raid because they still needed to hide until the farms harvested the grains.
The large contingent gathered behind tree trunks, large roots and shrubs, hungrily eyeing their target in the distance. In the moonlight, and under goblin vision, the shadow of the lodges came into view. Cust strained his eyes, looking at the buildings in the distance.
"Smokehouses?"
He had once raided a farm near the forest that had a small building filled with cured meats. Seeing these, whetted his appetite. He sniffed the air, goblins had a reasonable sense of smell, but being downwind negated that advantage. He voiced some grunts, causing two ugly-looking raiders, even by goblin standards to run to his side.
"Magg, when crawling up for attack, take five, head left. Bugg, you take five, head right. Like river crab, no escape."
He extended his thin hands outward in a circular fashion to visually demonstrate to his subordinates. Not happy with the drooling heads that gazed towards the suspected meat houses, he administered a scolding.
Slap, slap!
"You left, you right. Useless trash."
He uttered in the rude goblin language.
Cust had earned his stripes during a subjugation of a goblin village. No stranger to night raids, he chattered again to lead the group in crawling out from the forest. Under the faint light from the moon, their little green bodies blended into the grassland, patiently crawling towards their prey. Cust knew they had all the time in the world.
This slaughter would occur as planned. Right after the holy witching hour of the forest witches.
The moon and the stars aligned.
It was time!
Halfway between the bottom of the slope and the forest, he signaled to stop, scanning the target. The lodges lined the slope, behind which he made out the shape of a wooden wall. At the side, to the south, a small corral contained some resting horses.
His Goblin gut screamed that he struck gold, these building had to contain smoked meats. And looking at the number of horses in the corral, it had to be tasty horse meat.
'We struck gold!'
Even in the throes of excitement, Cust never lost his cool. As a veteran, he had to show quality leadership skills to these riff-raff. He shook the goblin sprawled beside him.
"Horse meat, horse meat..."
He grinned while bobbing his head to the goblin near him, who returned a whistling laugh from between some missing teeth. The message soon spread around; they would feast well tonight.
The stiff meats of those old, hard-ass farmers passed their prime and any remainders would be saved for the vanguard army. He really preferred the meats of wild animals, rather than this tough flesh.
These humans really had some sort of resilience, forcing the goblins into learning slow-cooking and simmering. His mouth watered, thinking back to his first subjugation of a human female. A fine specimen of the race, plump and round like an apple. Too bad she tried to escape, he nearly cried on losing her from the funhouse.
The baked pie afterward, did taste good; scrumptious. Needed more salt though.
Snapping out of his lustful thoughts, Cust then slapped the closest drooling goblin for displaying such lack of self-control.
Chastising his battalion for making a small ruckus, he grunted the signal to snail forward. On reaching the bottom of the slope, they had now covered over half the distance from the forest to the farm. He looked up while the others continued progress.
His uneven thick eyebrows scrunched together and his beady eyes narrowed as his mouth then twisted.
Cust frowned, staring towards the intended target.
Two humans stood on a platform behind the wooden wall, their faces and eyes seemingly locked on him in the darkness. The old man looked like a tough piece of meat in need of some serious boiling, while the younger kid reminded him of the succulent flavor he once tasted before.
In the distance and darkness, he did not make out the smirk on the face of the prime meat. He did hear a sound that did not bode well.
"Attack."