Chapter 69: Nightshade Fiend
Gauss obtained the signed commission document from the village chief.
The chief had assumed he would leave the village quickly like the other adventurers.
He was surprised to hear that Gauss intended to stay for a while and clear out more goblins around the area.
A warm smile immediately spread across the chief’s face.
When Gauss asked if there was an inn in the village where he could stay for a while, the chief waved his hands repeatedly.
He enthusiastically led Gauss to a guest room in his house that had been specially prepared for his rest.
He was more than happy to welcome Gauss’s voluntary decision to remain and eliminate goblins.
Even if other goblins might not be that close to their village and might be in other villages, as long as there were goblins nearby, it remained a potential threat—goblins were stationary; once they rooted somewhere, they would not migrate.
And it was rare to find someone like Gauss who, after completing a commission, would still willingly spend time doing such an apparently fruitless task.
Unable to refuse the chief, Gauss had no choice but to stay at the chief’s house temporarily.
In the chief’s home, besides the chief and his wife, there was a young boy with short dark brown hair of around ten years old.
When he learned that Gauss was an adventurer, the boy excitedly bombarded him with questions.
Questions such as “Do goblins bathe? Do they poop?” “Who is stronger, regular humans or goblins?” “How does one become an adventurer?”
As Gauss responded, he casually shared some of his experiences while, under the oil lamp, treating the goblin’s left ear—a quest item—with preservatives.
After all, if left unattended, by the time he returned to Graystone Town to submit his commission, that bag of ears would probably have rotted beyond recognition.
Once the quest item was handled, he washed his hands and began maintaining his armor and weapons.
Holding suede soaked with maintenance oil, he gently rubbed the blade.
The moonlight streaming through the window fell upon the polished sword, reflecting a beautiful pale-blue arc of light.
Fortunately, although the chief’s grandson was very curious, his nature was not unruly; he simply watched eagerly without attempting to grab anything.
So Gauss allowed him to observe by his side.
“Jenos, it’s time to sleep!”
Only when the night had grown deep did the boy’s mother—a kindly-faced, plump woman—come to call him.
Only then did he reluctantly jump down from the stool.
“Go home now.”
“Can I come find you again tomorrow?” the boy asked, his eyes full of admiration.
“Uh…” Gauss hesitated. “You’ll have to get up early; I’ll be heading out tomorrow morning.”
“Can I go with you?”
“Sorry, you can’t.”
Watching the boy’s mother smile and nod at him before pulling the boy away, he noticed the child’s stubborn, reluctant gaze at the door.
Gauss shook his head; he realized he had probably shaped the life of a rural child.
Maybe in a few years, that youth would leave his hometown and set out on the path of an adventurer.
He wondered if that was a good thing or a bad thing, but he didn’t know.
Once the boy left, Gauss immersed himself again in the maintenance of his gear.
This was part of an adventurer’s daily routine—constantly caring for one’s equipment by hand was necessary to ensure it remained trouble-free.
The next day.
After being warmly hosted by the village chief, Gauss ate breakfast with them.
Unfortunately, neither was he accustomed to the food nor was he full afterwards.
He could only secretly grab a few strips of jerky from his pack—meant for emergencies—and chew on them.
“Well then, I’m leaving.”
Gauss bade farewell to the chief and Jenos. “Chief, you mentioned someone in the neighboring village saw goblin tracks?”
“Yes—just a few days ago, the caravan leader mentioned that if you leave this village and turn left along the trail, the first village you encounter is the one.”
After confirming the information, Gauss left fully satisfied.
Although it was based on hearsay, it was still better than wandering aimlessly without any leads.
Stepping out of the village and following the direction the chief indicated, Gauss resumed his journey.
…
The forest was dyed with twilight, and the dense leaves were tinged with a warm hue.
By the gnarled roots of an old oak tree exposed above the soil, the heart of the hunter Randall was growing colder.
He clenched his teeth, cold sweat sliding down his furrowed temples, dripping onto that damned, hideous wound, making him suck in a sharp breath.
A hunter wounded by his own trap—how ironic.
Sweat soaked through his coarse cloth clothes, and he looked uneasily at the bushes darkening with the setting sun.
Just twenty paces away, within the shadows of the underbrush, several pairs of murky eyes glinted with greed and hunger, fixed intently on him—it was these goblins that had driven him into such a desperate situation!
They were gaunt, grimy green-skinned imps, so filthy they seemed on the verge of molding, even among goblins, they were smaller than average.
Under normal circumstances, he might have been able to fend them off or force them to retreat.
But now, the hastily treated wound was growing increasingly painful, blurring his vision and dimming his consciousness.
He glanced down at the bow in his hand—were it not for the weapon’s deterrence, those goblins might have swarmed him already.
Unfortunately, he knew the bow wouldn’t keep them at bay for long; soon, night would fully fall.
By then, not only might he no longer have the strength to draw the bow, but even if he did, hitting a goblin in the darkness would be nearly impossible.
Hunter Randall’s heart kept sinking.
He understood he likely wouldn’t survive the night.
Time crept on.
The stabbing pain in his leg dulled his awareness, making him feel dazed and drowsy, as though drugged.
Just as he was about to completely drift off, an image of his daughter Taylor’s adorable face suddenly appeared before his eyes.
Her mother had died of illness years ago, and now he too was nearing death—what would become of the child, still just a few years old?
He was an outsider, with no relatives in the village.
Even if someone kindly took the girl in, would they treat her well?
Countless tangled thoughts flooded his mind, and a powerful desire to survive overcame his drowsiness.
As he teetered on the edge of unconsciousness, the green-skinned imps crept toward him like flies drawn to wounds.
Snapping back to awareness, he let out a defiant, beast-like roar!
“Back off! You scum!”
At the same time, he raised his hand, trying to draw his bow and repel the approaching goblins.
But the moment he lifted his arm, he suddenly realized how much strength he had lost—his arm, never before so heavy, barely managed to draw the bowstring before giving out.
A limp, feeble wooden arrow flew out, arcing a few meters before sinking into the dirt.
Damn it!
Randall’s heart skipped a beat.
Sure enough, once he exposed his weakness, the cunning, greedy goblins instantly saw through his empty bluff.
They rushed at him faster, no longer hesitating, like hyenas catching the scent of blood.
As they advanced, they let out eerie chittering and gurgling sounds, their ugly beady eyes gleaming with lust and malice.
In the depths of the night, they were like fiends from hell.