<div>


    The goblin itched its butt, waiting. Always waiting. Always for nothing. It was just hanging around a tree along with one of its brethren, and its job was to warn the nest of incoming threats or greet their friendlies.


    They would build their nests hidden deep in the forest, then send hunters who would camp somewhere near the roads, far enough away from the light of civilization so their victims couldn''t find help.


    It was a crude but clever enough plan that it could work—if this were hundreds of years ago. No, mankind had long since grown wise to their methods. Even the most elementary traveler knew at least a thing or two to defend themselves against goblins.


    The evil goblins would lose more than they would gain, killed in droves long before they could touch a grown adult. Children could hold their own long enough to get help, or, blessed by the Divine Glass, win the fight themselves.


    If they just waited, spawned more of their own kind, and hid in their holes until the time was right, they might overwhelm the good people of Rosarium. But there were mainly two reasons this never happened.


    First, goblins did not have the patience for it. For all their ability to organize and concoct schemes, it would all fall apart to their own short-term greed.


    Which was why, even though it was supposed to keep watch, it abandoned its post just to take a leak. Took its sweet time, too, and not a thought was spared for the eeriness of the quiet nor the shadows that moved along the bushes.


    When the goblin returned, it found its brethren slumped against the tree.


    The goblin rolled its eyes, thinking it took a nap. It stepped back into its spot and then—


    "Gaaaaaah!"


    —a rock punctured its shoulder.


    It spun, tripped on its own two feet, and hit the tree, almost landing on the injury. With deep, sniveling gasps, it ran harder than it ever had in its life.


    Through tall grass. Past the marked trees. Into the bushes barricaded with sticks.


    It needed to escape. It needed to rally the others. It needed to—


    It stopped.


    In the solitary camp, surrounding a smothered pit of fire were the stiff bodies of all eight of its brethren. Parts of their heads were missing.


    The second reason: they were routinely exterminated en masse, like weeds in the yard. Search teams would find and mark their nests on a map, then the extermination teams would cull their numbers in one fell swoop. It was quick, efficient, ensured no survivors, and left no time for the goblins to repopulate.


    Normally, a single party wouldn''t be enough to kill all the goblins so quickly, so quietly...


    But a Gold-ranked adventurer?


    The goblin took a step back...


    "Wrong way, pal."


    There was a flash of steel.


    The goblin never had the chance to scream.


    <hr>


    Markus stood over the corpse. He swung his sword arm, and the blood removed itself from the blade, joining the bleeding bodies in the dirt. He clicked his tongue.


    "Gotten rusty... Guess it''s back to the basics for me," he muttered.


    Only three years in retirement, settling down with his wife, and oh, how the mighty had fallen. His old drinking buddies would laugh if they saw him now.


    The rest of the party emerged from the bushes: Willow, then Nikolas, and then Magni—who had to pause just to tug the reins on her Humblewing, Sven. That such a big bird could remain hidden somehow was one of the many mysteries of its kind.


    "Guess all that drinking this morning slowed you down, old man," Magni said. "Are you a lightweight?"


    "Brat, I''ll have you know that my 31 constitution stat can still drink you under the table! Anyway, ya see what I mean, Nikolas? You got the bigger arms, so use ''em. Even a few stones could do the job."


    The girls didn''t seem bothered by the grisly sight. They had probably seen much worse than this, so that''s good.


    Nikolas, though...


    The Shielder covered his nose, struggling to keep his composure. "U-ugh, that smell... Are they always...?"


    "Yeah..." Magni was trying her very best to keep Sven from just wandering off. "I heard goblins use the stench of their dead to track down weakened prey or run away from danger. You''d have to be a huge freak to let yourself get covered in their guts."


    Oh? Did the Nose Fixer just flinch?


    "Believe me, it could get much worse," Markus said, deciding to rag on her later. "We better get ready. By now, the camps nearby should know we''re here. Nose Fixer, how many are there?"


    The White Mage closed her eyes with her brittle staff pressed to the ground. Markus was amazed the dingy thing was even working, what with the dents along the crystal receptacle and the broken bit extended with a metal shard at the end.


    For the entire way, she had been periodically sending pulses of mana through the ground. Said she''s sensing the monsters through the "echoes" that come back. Sounded like something certain beastkin and elves would do. It''s not even a Skill. A form of [Mana Manipulation], then?


    She opened her eyes.


    "Twelve incoming. No unusual signs, just regular goblins."


    Very useful, this one. Maybe a bit of overkill against goblins, but he could respect her for being thorough. Every party with a pair of eyes would beg to have her in their team. With how the Halos Alliance''s ordinance and the conscription to the Support Corps worked, she could join her favorite pick to avoid these unflattering goblin hunting jobs, then hang around until the rules loosened up.


    So why hadn''t she?


    Well, it''s none of his business.


    Markus patted Nikolas on the back. "Ya heard the Nose Fixer. This will be simple and easy. Lure them into this camp, then just do what I''ve shown ya. You''ll be fine."


    Nikolas tore his eyes away from the dead goblins and nodded. "I understand."


    "Heh. Then get goin'', we don''t have all day."


    "Right!"


    And so, with his shield in hand, the boy who had never harmed a warm-blooded thing in his life began marching off to become a bona fide Goblin Slayer. He looked strangely mature, more sure of himself, with his determined eyes and straightened back.


    Markus smirked to himself, a certain conversation back in the wagon coming to mind.


    "Don''t think I forgot about you, Merchant. You and the bird are welcome to join him," he said.


    Magni beamed, her tail wagging.


    He knew a lot of boys with that same look: excited as a puppy, eager to prove herself.


    "Well, don''t mind if we do!" Then the blue-haired wolf girl just did the darnedest thing. She skipped to the Humblewing''s side and hopped right on its back like a common burden beast, as if the murderous bird wouldn''t tear her to shreds until next week for the transgression. She pointed, like a Hero on her noble steed, and shouted, "Let''s go, Sven! Onward!"


    And Sven...


    ...just sat down.


    "Sveeeen!"


    He didn''t bother holding it back; he guffawed like a wheezing chicken.


    Nose Fixer, though, looked less than impressed. Watching Magni struggle and seeing Nikolas go into the forest alone, she scoffed.


    "I may as well make sure he doesn''t lose an eye or something."


    Markus still had a hand on his knees, wiping the tears out of his eyes. "A-Awfully morbid, aren''t ya? The boy had crushed a slime before, so this should be nothin''."


    "...Just doing my job. Consider it a part of Risadel''s hospitality."


    Girl''s got a good head on her shoulders. Now if only she got rid of that stick up her ass...


    The following fight couldn''t even be called that. The goblins just charged in with their sticks and stones and threw themselves at the Shielder. His form was sloppy, too much wasted movement, but he did exactly as he was taught, using his larger stature to bash their heads against his shield before they could lay a finger on him. Nikolas won the battle without the White Mage ever needing to do a thing.


    "I... did it!" Nikolas was cheering. "I actually did it—urp!"


    Then the stench hit. Poor kid was on his knees, retching out his breakfast.


    Willow sighed. Even Markus started to understand.


    This was going to be a looong day...


    <hr>


    The sun had since gone past its zenith.


    They settled into a kind of rhythm after a while. Markus would find their tracks, Willow would count their numbers and gauge the danger, while Magni would always try, but fail, to get her Humblewing to join in the fight. What few injuries the Shielder sustained, the White Mage would heal.


    Markus would coach Nikolas, letting him fight on his own, and only intervene if he went too deep and got swarmed. And as for Magni?


    "Ugh. This sucks. The absolute worst..." Magni was whining as they finished the stragglers, crouching down with a knife in her hand to cut off the goblin ears, before shoving them into a sack. "I''m going to feel the stink for days..."


    "Hah!" he barked. "Welcome to the real world, Merchant!"


    He regulated her into looting and porter duty. The murder bird refused to listen to her, and a potential liability like that was left to guard the wagon instead, much to the Merchant''s dismay.


    When they''re done with eliminating all the nearby nests, they would come back to the wagon to ride down the road to find the next ones.


    In the meantime, Markus learned some important things about his party members. Besides all the jokes and byplay, it''s only proper to get a read on those he''s working with.


    Nikolas was Nikolas. Too green, too timid, too driven. Needed to slow down and take the proper steps. He thinks the world of his family. This quest just might be the push he needed to do great things with that ridiculous luck stat of his. Still working on him.


    Magni was a weakling and a screw-up; he already lost count of the number of stray goblins that escaped his senses and almost got the drop on her. Was her luck in the negatives, or something? Thankfully, the White Mage was around to watch her back. The wolf girl, at least, wasn''t afraid to get involved in the messy stuff.


    Though the less said about that murderous bird of hers, the better.


    Willow, the White Mage... It''s hard to pin her personality down. She keeps sending mixed signals, distant one minute and then a motherhen in the next. Breaks formation too often. Maybe a bad habit? Hard to tell.


    One thing was certain: she''s wary. Too wary. Like she''s always expecting something to go wrong. There were times she seemed tempted to leap into the fray whenever Nikolas got even a little overwhelmed. Hell, even when they confirmed the kills, she''s still pulsing mana into the ground, always on the lookout.


    Girl should learn to relax.


    Then again, Markus thought, it could be the boy''s luck at work.


    Don''t think he didn''t notice the intense looks toward Nikolas. The adults back at the village always joked about how all the ladies used to fawn over him. Kid had the sort of vibe that made women feel protective of him.


    Oh, they''ll be fun to tease. Maybe after a few more adventures, they''d bond over how they used to kill goblins together, and it would bloom into something more. Wouldn''t that be a riot? It sounded crazy, but he had seen adventurers hook up over less.


    The entire party made for a decent extermination team, annihilating every goblin nest that was marked on their map and then some.


    But that there''s the problem...


    "That makes twelve... thirteen nests?" Markus wiped the sweat from his brow, looking at the dead bodies scattered all over. This one had eighteen goblins, then the ones nearby came along and made it thirty-two. "We''re not even halfway done with the ones marked on the map, and we''re still findin'' unmarked goblin nests. What''s goin'' on?"


    There shouldn''t be this many if the guild was doing its job keeping the roads clean. These were goblins, not lake monsters. Unless...


    The White Mage noticed his expression. "Demontide?"


    Markus nodded grimly. "Demontide. We might have ourselves a monster spawner out here."


    The enemies of mankind come not only from the Evil Lake. Every so often, escaping the eyes of the Dragon Tale guild, patches of Demontide would emerge throughout the continent. It would corrupt everything it touched, turning its surroundings into malignant dens of ichor. And from the corruption, monsters would spawn.


    He held up his old sword, which was slick with blood, and scowled. Admittedly, he never properly cared for it after he retired, and so the edges had gotten rusty and brittle. Looked more like a serrated edge with so many bits missing. The enchantment that usually kept it whole and healthy had long since faded.


    "Ah, shit... Had I been scammed?" he muttered. "Guy said it would last at least another few decades."


    Could''ve been the family heirloom; maybe serve as a decoration on the wall, a story to tell, but it won''t live past this adventure, huh?


    Willow eyed the sword. "Need a [Reinforcement]?"


    "...Nah. Save it. Bet ya wasted enough mana bein'' our lookout. I can just throw rocks and use my bare hands if I have to."


    "That''s..."


    "Rule number one: worry about yourself first." Markus put a bit more force into his words. He had seen too many healers just like her get themselves killed trying too much. The Support Corps may be a recent thing, but with the way it was set up, he knew enough to know that it''s a meat grinder. This was something she needed to take to heart if she wanted to survive. "I may have been retired, but don''t look down on a Gold rank. Just help me watch over Nikolas and Magni like always, yeah?"


    Willow''s eyes sharpened.


    Did he hurt her pride somewhere? Well, tough.


    Markus held the gaze for a little while. Frowning, she looked away. He took her silence as tacit agreement to let the issue go.


    "But what do we do now?" Magni asked. "This isn''t just another elimination quest anymore."


    Nikolas, who was wiping the blood off his shield with the tall grass, tensed. "But we...can''t just leave this alone, right?"


    Markus hummed. "That''s a good question. Pull out the map for a minute."


    The Merchant, being the porter, obliged. From one of her pockets, she pulled out the map that came with the quest notice. She laid it flat on the ground, and everyone crowded around.


    "Where are we?" Markus asked.


    "Uuum..." Magni pointed at a spot along the road. "About here. An hour before the half-way point toward Nulwiz."


    "Anywhere past the half-way point is Nulwiz''s jurisdiction. There are no settlements anywhere near here, and certainly none near Risadel." He paused, thinking. "We''ve gathered more than enough goblin ears to get the full reward and prove there''s a monster spawner nearby. But it would be a shame to leave so soon. You two need the experience."


    Nikolas nodded in acceptance, relaxed now that he knew people wouldn''t be endangered, while Magni chuckled mirthlessly. She hadn''t been much help.


    "So how about this?" Markus smirked. "Three more nests. We''ll get as much as we can get done, then we return in time for supper. You guys with—?"


    "I''m afraid not."


    The White Mage had stood up. Her gaze was cold and hard, facing the deeper parts of the forest.


    "Sheesh, a mutiny already? I expected better from you, Nose Fixer—"


    "Shush!" she hissed. "Don''t you feel it?"


    Then he listened.


    Were he any lesser adventurer, he would''ve missed the slight trembling of the ground, the strange silence of the trees. Immediately, he was back on his feet with a firm grip on his sword. Nikolas and Magni, sensing the sudden mood, followed suit.


    "How many?" he asked.


    "Too many. Three big signatures... No, four? We need to go," she said. "Now."


    Markus knew right then and there that this girl might''ve just saved their lives.


    As party leader, he gave the order. "No time to waste! Let''s go!"


    Magni didn''t need to be told twice. She scooped up the map and kicked off while shoving it into her pockets. Nikolas almost stumbled on his own feet before Markus grabbed him by the collar and pushed him ahead.


    Markus and Willow were running side by side. It took a moment for the party leader to realize that she''s doing the same thing as he was: making sure the newbies were right in front of them, never to be left behind.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.


    "Mind telling us why we''re running?!" Magni gasped. "What''s even happening?!"


    "The stench attracted an entire horde! We''ll be surrounded if we stick around! When we get back to the wagon, tell your bird to just move it—!"


    From the sky above, he heard a sound he never thought he would ever hear again.


    Eyes wide, he shouted, "Hide behind something and get down!"


    The destruction came like thunder.


    An explosion rocked the earth, the shock passing through the party as if a giant had swung a club at their backs. A plume of leaves, rock, and dirt shot up into the air. They were almost tossed out of cover; Magni had been too late out before Willow pulled her face into the bark of a tree.


    When the ringing in his ears stopped and he was confident the coast was clear, Markus raised his head, ignoring how a branch and some leaves stuck to him like a wig. He looked back and saw a crater where they once stood, the epicenter still burning red, like it had come from hell itself.


    "Head count! Everyone alive?"


    "Present."


    "Just a little shaken up, Uncle."


    "I-I think I got dirt up my nose... What even was that?"


    "Good, good..." Markus pushed the fallen branch off his head. "Don''t stop moving. There''s more where that—"


    The distant snapping of trees. The humming of the wind. This time, it wasn''t coming from the sky.


    The Swordsman''s body moved on its own. His instincts, honed by the wilds of Rosarium, summoned the mana that had remained dormant for years, flowing into his blade to intercept what was coming.


    It met the flat of his blade, but in that split second, he realized the sword would break first before it could deflect the object away from his party. So he adjusted his grip, pushed his legs and...


    "Aaarggh!"


    ...caught the boulder with his shoulder.


    The world blurred.


    His back exploded with pain once, twice, thrice—losing count as he struck through at least a dozen trees like a bullet before burrowing into the last one.


    Markus coughed, literally stuck between a rock and a hard place. Rather than a boulder, it seemed more like a collection of rocks melted together. It was huge, about as big as he was tall, and he could feel the heat that seared it together. If it weren''t for his constitution, he would''ve been squished into a red paste.


    He tried to push it off, but it won''t budge. Not enough leverage. Damage was worse than he thought. Entire arm might be crushed underneath. It would explain why he''s all numb down there.


    "Uncle Markus!" Nikolas was the first to find him. His eyes were frantic. "Everyone! He''s over here! A-And he''s hurt!"


    "Kid...?"


    "Hang on, I''ll get this off of you!" Nikolas threw his entire weight against the boulder. "Come on! Come on...!"


    Magni was next. "Old man!"


    Had they fanned out just to find where he had landed? Precious minutes were being wasted, and the trembles were growing stronger.


    Markus coughed, thick saliva clogging up his throat. "I would''ve been fine. Y''all should''ve just gone!"


    "Yeah, sorry!" Magni said. "Not my policy to neglect the elderly!"


    "Oh, for—! I''m only in my mid-thirties!"


    "Can''t hear you! Too busy trying to save your life!" Magni ran around trying to find a spot in the tree where the boulder could be nudged loose. She braced her back against the bark and pushed with her legs, but the damn thing was perfectly lodged in there, along with half of Markus''s body. "Urk! Is it even moving?!"


    Damn it. To think he would be done in like this. Things would''ve been different had he gotten better equipment, a better sword.


    Or...had he been complacent? Got too satisfied with himself and stopped too soon?


    Maybe with what little time they had left, they could...


    But that hope was dashed by the sound of whistling from above. Many, many sounds. Like a symphony of mockery.


    He tried to shout, to tell them to get away. But the more he tried to speak, something was climbing up his esophagus to silence him. Why, dammit?! Why, why, why—!?


    "[Barrier]!"


    The White Mage arrived in the nick of time as a translucent wall encircled the party.


    The tree nearby: obliterated. Nothing but saw dust. Then hell rained down on them.


    Stones mowed through the trees and ripped the stumps out of the earth. Dust and dirt and decay splattered against the White Mage''s spell, digging into the barrier from the sheer force of the ruptures like shrapnel. But those were just the lucky few that missed.


    One struck the barrier, and the White Mage winced. There was another hit, but this time she dug her heels and pushed more mana through the staff, manifesting another layer. It was thick yet viscous, like a soft outer shell, and it took the brunt of the volley again and again, like a window against the hail.


    Five seconds.


    Ten seconds.


    Twenty.


    Thirty.


    For fifty long, hellish seconds, they were under fire, blinded by the clouds of dust.


    And just as soon as it came, it stopped.


    What once had been a healthy part of the forest was now the ruins of a clearing. The dust parted, revealing the naked sky and the White Mage''s barrier completely covered in cracks.


    She fell to her knees with a gasp. No more mana.


    With many of the trees gone, the horde came into sight.


    Goblins, hundreds of them, bled through the forest, blotting the scenery like weeds. Some of them were carrying spears, bows, helmets, and armor—all splotched in pitch black, dripping in Demontide. And behind them were three giants, marching in heavy, earth-trembling footsteps.


    Ogres.


    Magni had turned pale. "Shit..."


    Yeah. Shit.


    Markus felt dizzy. There''s another ringing in his ears. Something warm was flowing down the back of his head. He could hardly think clearly anymore.


    But at the very least, he still knew the right thing to do...


    "Forget it... Y''all need to run."


    "What?" Nikolas shook his head in disbelief. "No... Uncle Markus, we can''t!"


    "Yes, you can!"


    "W-What about Aunt Haydee?! What about—?!"


    Markus howled. "What are ya, deaf?! I said run—!"


    "[Featherlight]."


    A shadow hovering above them interrupted their argument.


    He heard Nikolas and Magni gasp. For a moment, he thought the horde was already upon them. But then he realized the weight over him was suddenly gone.


    One ogre raised its hand, seeing what''s coming long before Markus could process what''s happening. It tried to catch it, but it was too fast.


    The boulder smashed into the ogre''s head right before the Swordsman''s disbelieving eyes.


    <hr>


    It was a common trope, both for its narrative momentum and expositive convenience.


    Whenever the Hero went on a journey, they needed a Mentor to guide the way. They would teach the Hero all they needed to know to overcome their future challenges, and once the Mentor served their purpose, they''re removed from the story. Sometimes they come back. Sometimes they stayed dead.


    Maybe it would''ve worked out in the end. Maybe Markus would''ve survived, or maybe Nikolas would''ve unlocked some hidden, special powers and save the day like the protagonist he was meant to be. A chance that it would all be alright.


    But she hated leaving things to chance.


    Every time they finished an encounter, every time they entered anywhere close to resembling a boss arena, she would send out pulses of mana. Scanning. Waiting. Watching. All to catch the moment where everything went wrong.


    Funny. After agonizing over so many maybes for so long, she decided to just derail the whole thing the moment the plot came. It was the stupidest she had ever felt in both of her lives.


    The empty mana potion shattered on the ground.


    Mana ran hot in her veins, flowing through her tendons. The [Reinforcement] spell was not meant for a person of blood and flesh, so she had to use a quick and dirty modification. It was crude, inelegant, and, above all, inefficient. A real Mage would froth at the mouth at what she''s doing, but it was enough for her purposes.


    "[Featherlight]."


    Everyone stared slack-jawed as Willow raised a broken tree with one hand.


    The ogres stopped marching. The headless corpse of one of their own reminded them of what she could do. The goblins, however, just kept going, swinging their crude weapons, snarling like savage beasts, too emboldened by their own numbers to even consider they were charging into their deaths.


    When the front lines finally got close enough to her, she swung the tree. They were caught on the branches, swept into the gaps, but by the end of the swing, they were sent flying bereft of their arms and armor.


    She swung again, and those who still came were crushed by the tree''s weight. Then, flowing with the momentum and flicking her hips, the tree circled around toward the rest unaware, painting the bark in dark green.


    Now the tree had lost half of its leaves, and the dead took their place. Through the overwhelming stench of so many corpses, only then did the horde of goblins hesitate.


    No more wanted to walk into range, so she did the next best thing and hurled the tree.


    [Featherlight] was a strange spell. Maybe the closest thing she had to a cheat. For the wielder, something as big as a building could move as well as a feather, yet interact with its surroundings with its original mass, defying not just the laws of gravity but also the laws of momentum.


    So even when it left her hand, the tree was still moving as fast as she swung it, launching it forward with a tremendous crack.


    The air slowed it down, but not by much. It tore through the horde, sweeping goblins by the broad length, butchering others with the intact branches. Armor, numbers—none of it mattered. When the spell dissipated and it finally landed, it rolled and squashed, then rolled and squashed some more, taking tens of goblins with it, only stopping when an ogre took it on the knee with a grunt.


    "H-Holy..." Magni uttered.


    "Uncle Markus, that... Can White Mages even...?"


    "Kid, I don''t even know anymore."


    That should buy them enough time to get it together, but not enough to just stop and heal. Willow reached into her waist pack hidden under her cloak, pulling out the cold vial she had bought from an alchemist''s shop this morning.


    "Catch."


    "Woah!" Magni caught it. "A health potion? High-grade? Yeeesh, these are expensive!"


    "Take Markus and make sure he doesn''t die. I''ll catch up in a minute."


    Willow didn''t bother waiting for their response. She just sprinted towards the horde, her cloak trailing behind her.


    The lead ogre was a big fellow, even by their standard. He wore crude leather armor and wielded an equally crude hammer. His expression was as dull and brutish as the weapon he carried, a face so simple that Willow doubted it could even register anything more complex than pain and anger.


    The other ogre, fat and angry, wanted to move, only to be held back by the leader. A frustrated snarl left its lips. For all their equipment and size, the bigger ogres just hung back while goblins gathered around.


    The lead ogre signaled the horde. A line of goblin archers took aim.


    "[Barrier]."


    Arrows bounced off of her shield. The goblins in her way, she ran over with the translucent wall. Those that went around and tried to poke her with their pointy weapons, she just snatched a spear from the ground and pummeled them away with the blunt end. The arrow volley ended, and she dropped the shield, casting a weak [Reinforcement] to show them the proper way to swing a spear.


    "Hup!"


    A strong, wide sweep and blood splattered her boots.


    Exhaling, she dropped the spear and stepped over the bisected corpses. Her hand was covered in a film of blood, and so was her magic staff, despite her efforts. She wiped the blood on her cloak, leaving behind a dark green streak.


    Seeing so much of their own fall like flies, the goblins that were just about to go in instead turned tail and ran. Willow ignored them and just kept mowing down whoever''s in front of her.


    No need to kill them all. Just enough to make them fear for their lives.


    The lead ogre roared, urging goblins to get back in the fight. Its words sounded like it was just a bunch of guttural noises made with a mouth not made for speech. The goblins seemed to be swayed—not because of its command, but because another hundred of some goblins were there to back them up and try again as a line of archers, still alive, prepared their second volley.


    She won''t let them.


    From the many destroyed trees lying around, she just picked one, cast another [Featherlight], and then hurled. The tree sailed in the air, gusts in its wake, like a fetch stick.


    Arrows shot out in panic but lodged into the wood. The goblins who failed to duck became smears on the ground. The lead ogre swung with its hammer, and the impact broke the tree in two. However, its momentum sent the lead ogre tumbling along with it.


    With nothing to hold it back, the other ogre stepped up. It tried to do the same thing she did, lifting a tree—one of the longer ones—with veins popping out of its forehead.


    Willow deadpanned as she stopped just out of its reach. When it swung, all it accomplished was wipe out some of its own army.


    Between her and the ogres, the goblins just didn''t exist.


    The ogre howled, tusks showing in a facsimile of a smirk, as if what it did was something to be proud of, daring her to come closer as it raised the long tree like it''s about to throw.


    Willow huffed.


    "[Featherlight]. [Telekinesis]."


    Several stones shot into the air. She plucked one out and hurled it like a bullet.


    The ogre barely turned its shoulder in time to block it, but for the ones that followed, it wasn''t so lucky.


    Two broke the jaw.


    One punctured the temple.


    And the last one lodged right inside its eye socket.


    "Ugghhhrrrgg!"


    It screamed, clutching its face and roaring in pain. Big mistake: the tree it was holding fell over its head, and the ogre crumpled. Some goblins failed to move away and were crushed under its butt, before getting crushed again by the tree.


    The horde was in shambles. She seemed unstoppable, otherworldly. Even as the lead ogre struggled on its knees, pointing at her with authority in its voice and rage in its eyes, no one dared to face her.


    Willow let out a low, shuddering breath. For whatever reason, the way the lead ogre was acting all tough and commanding, not once bothering to step out and help while everyone else suffered, had pissed her off.


    Her blue eyes pierced into the souls of the damned, promising a swift summary execution.


    She moved.


    The horde bristled, ready for her to bring death into their ranks. Goblins dove behind trees, and the lead ogre raised its arm to protect its head.


    And with a swish of her cloak, Willow just ran away.


    ...


    "...Urrgh?"


    <hr>


    Willow was out of mana and out of stamina.


    Casting [Featherlight] on so many things took too much out of her, and now there''s a throbbing emptiness in her bones.


    Her everything burned. Her clothes were drenched with sweat, her legs were shaking, and her muscles ached. The heat produced by the enhancements had been cooking her under her skin. Unless she defied the Laws of Thermodynamics, her self-reinforcement was a ticking bomb.


    Push too far, and mana deprivation would be the least of her worries.


    She hadn''t been too far behind. The others were boarding Magni''s wagon when she arrived.


    Magni had the reins, and Sven was moving as Willow hopped beside her. The wolf girl reeled at the White Mage''s blood-drenched appearance.


    "D-Did you kill all of them?"


    "I''m good, but not that good. More are coming, so we''ll need to leave quick. How''s Markus?"


    "Knocked out, but alive. Nikolas is taking care of him back there."


    "...Good."


    Willow breathed a sigh of relief. The worst outcome had been averted. For now.


    Life as an adventurer could take any turn. If not today, then it would be tomorrow, and all of this may have been a waste of effort, delaying the inevitable. But as futile as it may be...


    "What about you?"


    Willow tilted her head. "Hm?"


    "You look terrible."


    "...I''ll be fine." Willow pulled her cloak around tighter, hiding the shakes. "Just part of the job."


    She''s still a White Mage, after all.


    Magni stared. There''s an undecipherable emotion behind those eyes, one that made Willow a little uncomfortable. The Merchant opened her mouth to say something, only...


    Sven let out a loud shriek. The bird dug its feet, and the whole wagon lurched as they skidded to a stop.


    Far up ahead, the road was blocked.


    Countless little green men lined up with their clubs and daggers. They filled up the entire width of the road, mixing in with those emerging from the forest on both sides. They were giggling and cackling, as if they knew something they didn''t.


    Willow had a guess.


    Behind the primary group blocking the road, goblins scrambled in and out, lugging rocks in their arms. They dumped them into piles. A few even started pushing and shoving just to meet their quota first.


    Looming over them was the fourth ogre. Strangely, it was shorter, leaner. Its skin was red as hellfire, each breath blowing steam from its nostrils, and its tusks dripped with green blood. It licked its chops, like it had just eaten a delicious snack.


    But if that''s not bizarre enough, there was its right arm. Willow could see the fumes wafting with Demontide, like it was born straight from the monster spawner. Armored and pitch black, the disproportionately enormous arm should''ve tipped the ogre off balanced. And in its clawed hands, she had to squint, was a handful of stones.


    Magni began tugging the reins. "S-Sven, we need to turn around..."


    "We can''t!" Nikolas spoke from the behind. "There are more right behind us. They—hey, hey! Leave him alone!"


    Goblins had sprung from the trees and jumped. The sound of a shield crushing hands as goblins tried to climb aboard, and the scratches against the roof were enough to make Magni scream.


    "Oh, come on! Could my luck get any worse?!"


    She whipped the reins, and Sven obliged. The goblins were thrown off the wagon as the party forced their way forward.


    But now they''re driving themselves into the waiting arms of the red ogre and its army. They''re being lured in.


    Willow groaned as she clung to the driver''s seat. "It just doesn''t end, does it...?"


    No matter. This was why she splurged and prepared more mana potions.


    Three was the maximum amount allowed. There was a saying about drinking mana potions: one to live, two to win, and three to die. You must wait for the body to metabolize between each use; otherwise, the backlash would kill you. Sometimes, if your constitution stat was too low or if you drink the second potion too soon, you''ll cripple yourself or die of potion poisoning.


    But she doesn''t have the luxury to wait.


    Just think of it like a second cup of coffee during the peak hours of a weekend. She''ll be fine...


    ...Right?


    Fighting through the shakes, the numbing sensations, she willed her fingers to uncork the top and—


    A hand rested over the vial.


    "What did I say about rule number one?"


    Markus emerged from the back of the wagon, nursing his head.


    "Uncle Markus, you shouldn''t be moving!"


    "Brat, only my wife gets to worry about me. I''m fine."


    Whatever the healing potion did, it did wonders for his complexion, but not much else. His sluggish movements and slouched posture made him look more like an old man than before.


    Still, there was a hint of fire and brimstone in his gaze.


    "So that''s the bastard, huh...?"


    Willow had a feeling the red ogre was also staring back. Even though it had them in its sights, it chose not to launch its artillery. It didn''t consider them a threat. Why would it? It could kill them even at this distance, so it may as well have the hordes of goblins deliver them to its feet to play with them as it wished.


    Markus clicked his tongue. "Hey, birdie. Ugly over there is lookin'' down on us. Gonna let that stand?"


    Sven growled and puffed up his feathers. He ducked his head low, just an order away from abandoning all sense of preservation, wanting nothing more than to get rid of those eyesores blocking his way.


    "Well, well. A man after my heart."


    Willow and Magni leaned away as the Swordsman used the driver seat to boost himself up to the roof of the wagon.


    "Markus?" Willow asked.


    "Everythin'' will be all right now. Thanks for the save. I owe ya one. All of ya."


    "S-Save our lives and I''ll consider us even!" Magni said.


    "Hah! Consider it done."


    Markus was back on his two feet. He held his broken sword in his right hand, strong despite the rawness of the flesh and bone the healing potion had regenerated. He basked in the breeze and sighed like it''s the sweetest thing since honey and cinnamon.


    "Full speed ahead," he said.


    Sven shrieked, announcing the declaration of war for all to hear.


    The bird beast flapped its wings. The wheels churn. The wind picked up.


    Goblins who wanted to take pot shots immediately changed their minds and scrambled out of the way. The ones chasing them were soon left in the dust.


    The red ogre scrunched in anger in the face of such defiance. It didn''t roar. Nor shout. Nor howl. It simply reared back its blackened arm in deliberate slowness, rocks clutched tight in its claw. Its skin sizzled. Its chest glowed hot and molten. When it reached its full extension, there was a thunderous crack.


    The whistling of air as the projectiles fly served as its battle cry.


    "I don''t appreciate losing in a rock-throwing contest, especially to an ogre probably not even a month old. So how about I show ya something real good, eh? Learned it from the ol'' dojo."


    Markus leveled his broken sword at his hips. A luminescent glow was forming on the blade. Not just the blade. His entire body, too.


    Willow barely sensed it from the driver''s seat, but recognized the flow. Mana breathing?


    "Take a guess why they call me the Flying Sword," he uttered. "Sun Flash, Second Form: [Sky-Scattering Slash]!"


    With a horizontal slash, the air screamed and the glow split into pieces. Each light trail homed onto the projectiles, twisting and turning like they''re following the path of the wind itself.


    The stones shattered midair upon impact, popping like fireworks. Every. Last. One.


    The red ogre''s eyes narrowed. Sneering, it reached into another pile of stones.


    "That all you got?! [Sky-Scattering Slash]!"


    It was like a dance between two storms. For every pile the red ogre threw, the Swordsman answered in kind.


    "[Sky-Scattering Slash]!"


    The sound of thunder in every throw.


    "[Sky-Scattering Slash]!"


    The screeching of the air with every cut.


    "[Sky-Scattering Slash]!"


    Light and stone streaked the skies in a clash of wills. The light that passed through and the rocks that broke would fall to the sides, piercing the surrounding goblins.


    The red ogre reached back, only to find no rock piles left. Snarling, it grabbed a few goblins and threw them instead!


    "Fuck! That''s cheating!"


    Light trailed after the flying goblins, cutting them into clean halves, but his breathing was growing labored. Willow could see the wear and tear of his sword from her place in the driver''s seat. He might be down to two or three swings at most.


    "In that case... Kids! You''re up!"


    "Yes, Uncle!"


    Nikolas had stepped out, a foot still in the wagon, his buckle shield intercepting any projectile goblins they get. Willow helped him, hanging onto the wagon with one hand and swinging her staff with the other. In the middle, poor Magni was keeping her head down and holding onto the reins for dear life.


    "Are you all crazy!?"


    They ignored her and kept swinging away. And the blood: it splattered all over them and the wagon.


    Willow found herself taken by the surreality of it all. Batting away goblins thrown by a mass murdering pitcher like it''s baseball. Hurling themselves against an army like an intercontinental missile. Yet, all she could think of was how good a shower would feel right about now.


    "Got you now, you bastard!"


    Finally, Markus was in range.


    The surrounding energy was compressed. For a brief moment, Markus grinned as his scruffy beard was tinged blue.


    "One more time! [Sky-Scattering Slash]!"


    A hundred pieces screeched through the air. No rocks. No goblins. Unimpeded, they all shoot to kill.


    The red ogre, with eyes wide, crouched and raised its guard. Its lone enhanced arm stood between it and the rain of death. And a moment later, the goblins unlucky enough to be caught in the crossfire were shredded into bloody ribbons.


    They died all around the red ogre. First those at the front and center, then those around the sides, and finally those around the back. The goblins who tried to use the ogre as a shield got taken out by the curving shards. None had survived, not a single one, their bodies perforated and their blood soaking the earth.


    When the rain ended, the red ogre was riddled with oozing black cuts. The rest of the blockade had been decimated. Now the red ogre was the only thing left standing.


    It lowered its arm.


    Only to be met with Sven''s unstoppable beak.


    Willow craned her neck as she watched the red ogre sail right over their heads. In that sublime moment of wonder, she saw the dumbfounded look on the ogre''s face. The way its eyes crossed, the way its jaw hung. How its body twirled, how it shone under the sunlight.


    With what little remained of his blade, Markus drew a wide arc underneath.


    The split halves crashed far behind them, snapping Willow out of her stupor.


    The road was clear. Sven ran like the wind, as free as a bird could be. The monsters left over soon became dots in the distance.


    Constitution Leveled Up!


    Dexterity Leveled Up!


    Intelligence Leveled Up!


    Gained 100 Karma.


    Magni let out a deflating wheeze. "Holy shit."


    "Holy shit," Willow agreed.


    "Holy shit?" Nikolas muttered.


    "Ho. Ly. Shit." And Markus flopped flat on the wagon roof. "We had just survived a Wild Hunt..."


    When monster spawners remain active for long enough, multiple types of monsters would emerge. They would vie for dominance and then form a hierarchy where the strongest, smartest, and cruelest species would lead the army, eventually leading into a deadly march through the land that would lay waste to entire settlements. People would call it a Wild Hunt.


    They were just in the middle of one and had stopped it in its tracks, leaving with their very lives.


    Willow felt smelly and miserable, covered in so much gore that Magni sat as far toward the opposite side of the driver''s seat as possible. Not like the wolf girl was much better, covered in blood herself. She seemed about ready to cry. From the stench, from the traumatizing event they had left behind, or both—only the Goddess knows.


    Glancing behind, she saw Nikolas had crawled back into the wagon, staring out into the road they came from, lost and distant. Gone was the young naivety; in its place was something solemn and sublime. Like he learned some fundamental truth about the world they live in today. Protagonist things, she supposed.


    Markus? Hardly bothered to come down from the wagon roof, just basking under the dipping sun. The veteran seemed a touch melancholic after a close brush with death. She had to admit, it felt so strange for him to be so stoic now.


    Well. That''s that.


    Mission accomplished.


    Willow closed her eyes, content to just enjoy the wind and the peace and the quiet...


    "So."


    But then Magni just had to open her mouth.


    "In your mid-thirties, huh?"


    Markus shuffled around on the roof. His head poked out, and his arms dangled beside him with the crumbling, bladeless hilt of his sword. "Yeah...? What are ya tryin'' ta say?"


    The wolf Merchant gave him a brief appraisal, before leveling with him the most sympathetic look a girl could give. "The years had not been kind to you, huh?"


    "OH, SOD OFF ALREADY!"