Chapter 167: Ambrose's Concern
Goblins were… complicated creatures.
Most were wicked yet weak, cruel yet cowardly: contradictory traits that somehow fit them perfectly.
An ordinary goblin was thin and scrawny, about the size of a human child, and not much stronger. Under normal circumstances, a well-trained militiaman could handle three adult goblins alone.
They relied on numbers. Goblins possessed astonishing reproductive capacity, four or five offspring per litter being common, and were incredibly hardy. They could grow up eating mud if necessary.
They existed everywhere: in the wilderness, in underground caverns, in forests. There was almost nowhere goblins could not survive.
For most adventurers, goblins were the first monsters they ever encountered. Though weak, they were still exceedingly dangerous.
They possessed intelligence comparable to humans. They set traps, wove schemes, and were innately vicious. Even juvenile goblins could tear out an enemy's throat without hesitation.
During his years as an adventurer, Ambrose had dealt with more than his share of goblins. He had also witnessed the grisly fate of adventurers captured by them.
Thus he said to Catherine, "Stand aside for now. I'll handle these goblins."