Chapter 12 : First Battle
Chapter 12: First Battle
The value on his retina fluctuated wildly.
Very quickly.
The Environmental Stability dropped below the critical threshold of 50%, and the originally bright green number instantly turned into a glaring crimson.
From between the tall, densely packed trees around him, faint sounds emerged—rapid, heavy breathing.
Along with sharp, grating cries, like fingernails scraping across a chalkboard.
The noise wasn’t loud, but it made one’s scalp tingle.
Hearing this sound, Lance instead let out a breath of relief.
That was the unique communication sound of Goblins.
According to the bestiary, these creatures possessed an extraordinarily keen sense of smell and had an almost pathological obsession with the scent of blood and decay.
It seemed the odor he had picked up while collecting sap or moss had exposed his location.
Now that he was prepared, Lance’s 6-point Perception immediately came into play.
His gaze swept across the surroundings like that of a hawk, and he quickly spotted something unusual in a nearby bush.
There were several patches of dark green shadows that clashed sharply with the fresh, vibrant greenery around them.
There were two immediate priorities.
Determine the enemy’s numbers.
And choose the most advantageous battlefield.
《New Adventurer’s Guide》, Chapter Three clearly stated: If a lone individual encountered a small group of Goblins, they must immediately seek favorable terrain and avoid being surrounded in open areas where the enemy could exploit their numerical advantage.
Out of the corner of his eye, Lance noticed a concave rock wall not far behind him.
Without hesitation, he raised his round shield and retreated steadily, moving toward it step by step.
The Goblins hiding in the shadows seemed to sense their prey’s intention.
They no longer concealed themselves and rushed out of the bushes, letting out shrill howls.
This was their usual hunting tactic—using noise to create panic and force their prey into making mistakes.
Under the sunlight filtering through the canopy, Lance finally got his first clear look at these so-called monsters.
They were only about waist-high to an adult human. Their skin was a sickly dark green, covered in wrinkles and pustules.
Their long, pointed ears drooped from both sides of their bald heads. Their eyes were murky yellow, and their mouths were filled with crooked, yellowed teeth.
Fortunately.
This Goblin squad only had four members, and the weapons they wielded were nothing more than sharpened wooden sticks and crude bone clubs.
Lance’s tense heart eased slightly.
These were cannon fodder among cannon fodder—the lowest tier in Goblin society.
Seeing Lance maintain his defensive posture while retreating, the four Goblins stopped and picked up stones from the ground, hurling them viciously.
“Pa! Pa!”
Several fist-sized rocks whistled through the air toward him.
Lance’s Perception allowed him to track the trajectories of these not-so-fast projectiles.
He slightly shifted his body or adjusted the angle of his round shield.
The stones struck the wooden shield covered in thick cowhide, producing dull thuds that made his arm go slightly numb.
These small creatures possessed far more strength than their scrawny bodies suggested.
It was at this moment that Lance realized a fatal shortcoming in his equipment.
He lacked a ranged weapon.
It was a mistake born of inexperience. If he had a hand crossbow right now—even just a few throwing knives—he could have counterattacked during their throwing intervals and ended the fight much faster.
Next time, he would definitely make up for it.
While reviewing this in his mind, Lance continued retreating in an orderly manner.
Originally, he had planned to lure them into charging directly at the rock wall for close combat.
But he realized he had underestimated their cunning.
They might be foolish, but they were not mindless beasts.
These Goblins seemed to have noticed that Lance’s heavy equipment made him less mobile, and they actually intended to use a stone-throwing tactic to exhaust his stamina.
Unfortunately for them.
They had run into someone with an unfair advantage.
While blocking and retreating, Lance adjusted his breathing rhythm.
With each breath, the negligible amount of stamina he consumed was instantly restored.
By the time Lance fully retreated to the solid rock wall—
The Goblins had thrown stones for quite a while without even scratching him. Instead, they were the ones bending over, gasping for breath, tongues nearly hanging out.
Looking at the fully armored Adventurer before them—his face hidden behind a visor, his breathing steady and unchanged—
The walnut-sized brains of the Goblins filled with anger at being toyed with.
In their eyes, this human was like a metal-shelled turtle hiding inside its armor.
“Waa-la!!”
The leading Goblin let out a sharp screech.
They raised their crude weapons high, howling to bolster their courage as they charged forward.
Normally, they preferred to spread out and ambush. But now, with Lance backed against the rock wall and flanked by scattered stones,
They were forced into the most foolish choice—a frontal assault.
Closer.
Five meters. Three meters.
The Lance who had maintained a defensive stance all this time suddenly turned cold.
Facing the wooden spear thrust from the front, he did not choose to block passively.
Instead, he suddenly stepped forward, using his body’s momentum as his round shield slammed out like an iron wall.
“Bang!”
The tremendous impact instantly knocked the two Goblins at the front off balance, sending them tumbling to the ground like rolling gourds.
At that very moment—
The finely crafted steel short sword in Lance’s right hand, long prepared, shot out like a venomous snake.
The essence of Castro Swordsmanship lay precisely in such ruthless thrusts during close-quarters combat in muddy trenches.
At LV3 proficiency, this strike was as fast as thunder.
The tip of the sword pierced precisely into the face of the nearest Goblin.
“Puchi.”
Dark green, foul-smelling blood sprayed out instantly.
The Goblin didn’t even have time to scream before dying on the spot.
Expressionless, Lance followed through with a heavy kick to the corpse’s chest, using the force to pull his sword free.
He immediately withdrew his shield and stepped back, once again assuming an impenetrable defensive stance.
Steady to an almost outrageous degree.
Another Goblin that had fallen nearby scrambled to its feet in panic. The hand gripping its bone club trembled, and it no longer dared to make those arrogant howls.
They might be savage, but faced with such a clean instant kill, they were shaken.
If not now, when would they run?
But Lance knew very well—if he allowed these creatures, who bullied the weak and feared the strong, to escape, they would hide like flies in the shadows, constantly harassing and disgusting him.
So Adventurers followed only one principle when dealing with Goblins: eliminate them completely.
At the moment when the remaining three Goblins hesitated between advancing or retreating—
Lance moved.
He no longer defended, but instead launched a short, ferocious charge with his shield.
The edge of the shield smashed aside the obstructing wooden stick in front of him.
Immediately after came another standard military thrust.
Second one.
Then a powerful horizontal slash, followed by a finishing downward stab.
Third one.
Lance quickly chased down the fleeing Goblin and drove his short sword into its back.
In less than ten seconds.
The once-noisy clearing in the forest was left with only the dying wail of the last Goblin.