Chapter 122 - 121: Echoes of Stage Six
Night Camp - Forest Clearing Near the Earlโs Estate
The stars had barely settled into the sky when Lumberling and the elves arrived at the camp. His subordinates and the captains had already retreated earlier as ordered, and now sat gathered around several makeshift fires. The scent of roasted meat, metal, and fresh spoils clung thick in the air.
The forest clearing buzzed with low chatter and excitement, five wagons parked in a half-circle were brimming with loot: glinting weapons, polished armors, bolts of fine cloth, ornate furniture torn from the estate walls, and sacks of clinking gold. Warhorses, easily a hundred strong, were tethered nearby, stamping the earth with restless hooves.
Skitz approach, his dagger still strapped loosely across his chest. His eyes widened at the haul, a sharp grin spreading across his face as he nodded in approval.
๐ณ๐๐ฒ๐๐จ๐๐ฏ๐๐๐ง๐๐น.๐ฐ๐ผ๐
"You lot sure move fast," he said with a chuckle, eyeing the overflowing wagons. "Earl Cedricโs ghost must be crying blood."
"This guy was loaded," Gobo 1 added, wiping soot from his brow. "Fifteen hundred gold coins, just from the damn mansion vaults alone. And thatโs not counting the shiny furniture."
๐ป๐๐๐ฆ๐ธ๐๐ท๐โด๐ฃ๐ฆ๐.๐ธโด๐ฎ
"Iโm starting to think looting might be my true calling," Gobo 2 muttered, holding up a gilded goblet. "Imagine doing this twice a month, Iโd retire a rich goblin."
Skitz allowed a small smile as he watched them. The morale boost was welcome, no casualties, clean escape, and the elves hadnโt needed babysitting.
Aren stepped forward, face more serious. He held out three thick tomes, each wrapped in velvet and marked with noble insignias.
"These," he said, "are the real treasures."
Skitz took one and opened it gently. Old ink. Sharp diagrams. Annotated instructions.
"Knight Skill Manuals?" Skitz asked, eyes narrowing.