Forests Don't Support Idle Goblins

This is a small wooden cabin in the woods, with its exterior walls covered in moss and vines.

This house is marked with a question mark on the territory map. Yesterday, Xia Er led his men to collect a lot of Gua Gua Fruits, and today he brought them here to check on the situation.

He looked around, but there was nothing there except the chirping of birds and towering trees.

With a creak, he slowly pushed open the door. The door was unlocked, and a faint herbal scent wafted into his nostrils.

"A medicine-making hut?" Sharl said with delight. This would be extremely useful to the goblin tribe.

Then, he took a clattering fruit out of his pocket and tiptoed into the house.

The furnishings in the room were very ordinary, even a bit old, with a long wooden table and a few chairs. On the long table were three large bags of herbs, and on the walls of the room were many bottles and jars, each containing various strange things sealed inside.

The fireplace was filled with ashes from a fire, suggesting that someone may have lived there.

"Come in with me," Charles ordered his men, then carried the jingling fruit to the long table.

The tabletop was spotless, with candle wax dripping from the rusty copper candlesticks. A book less than two fingers thick was casually placed on the table.

"The Aristocracy of Plantagenet City Behind the Bed Canopy?" Charles glanced at the cover warily.

He carefully opened the book and found a black bookmark stuck in the middle.

Turning to the page with the bookmark, he saw the words on the page:

Under the moonlight, Viscount Mercedes held his cousin's hand tightly and said affectionately, "Cousin, don't let other people's opinions define us. I only want to spend the rest of my life with you."

The viscount's cousin slowly withdrew her hand and said softly, "No, I'm already engaged."

Viscount Mercedes sighed softly, "Are we truly destined to be apart in this life? If I can't have you by my side from now on, I'd rather jump off this tower right now."

"No, cousin," the viscount's cousin gently covered his lips, "If you die, my heart will die too."

"Snap!" Charles slammed the book shut. "What kind of nonsense is this? Mercedes is bisexual."

"This brain-dead, third-rate author is better off writing novels than writing this kind of stuff."

"Really? How do you know he's bisexual?" A hoarse, aged female voice sounded from behind.

Charles whirled around, raised the clattering fruit in his hand, and made as if to throw it, but there was no one behind him.

"Where are my men?" he whispered.

"They're all asleep outside." The aged voice revealed a hint of surprise. "Bellani tree lamp fruit, I never expected you to have something so interesting."

"Who are you?" Charles's eyes quickly scanned the room.

"Of course I am the master here. But you, a goblin who can speak Common, is quite interesting."

"I'm sorry to bother you. I just found this place by accident and didn't cause any damage." Unsure of the other person's intentions, Charles cautiously moved towards the door. "I'll leave immediately and won't come near here again."

"No, you still haven't said how you know Mercedes is bisexual," the aged voice pressed.

Then, the wooden cup on the table flew to the front of the table with a "whoosh," and the small kettle on the corner of the table was lifted up as if by an invisible person and filled the cup in mid-air.

"Have some water, and tell me slowly."

Charles stared at the glass in front of him. The water inside was pale yellow, with a wisp of steam rising from it, and it seemed to have a faint floral scent.

He returned to the table, reached for the cup, took a sip, and found it quite delicious.

"I probably won't be able to leave easily today," he thought quickly, considering his options. "Fortunately, the other party hasn't shown too much malice yet."

"If, I mean if the book describes the Calder Mayes I know, then that guy is definitely not like what's written in the book. He often boasts that many beautiful women like him, but he actually has an affair with his effeminate bodyguard."

"Aren't his guards men?" The woman's voice revealed a hint of curiosity.

"Yes, the funniest thing that guy did was take his bodyguard to the red-light district. There were three people in the room, including the bodyguard, and that guy was in the middle."

"Uh..." The woman's voice clearly didn't expect things to be so explosive.

"If it weren't for the huge hush money he paid, this story would have spread long ago, so what's written in this book is just hearsay."

"Then how do you, a goblin, know that?" The woman's voice echoed in the room, scraping against his eardrums like sandpaper; Ciel even felt it was right behind him.

"I..." He hesitated, considering what kind of story to make up to get by.

"I used to be a pet kept by a noble family. They taught me to speak and read. You know, nobles have some strange quirks," Charles said, trying to make his story sound real. "Later, they released me back into the forest."

"I've heard of raising goblins, but I've never seen it done in the Kingdom of Fran. It's usually done by neighboring countries," the female voice said.

"Yes, at first they raised me, dressed me up, and gave me all sorts of interesting clothes. I overheard these private matters of the nobles." Shardon paused for a moment, then continued, "Later, they were afraid that raising goblins would arouse the people's disgust, so they released me."

"That's possible," the woman said calmly, without much variation in her tone. "So these secrets were all overheard."

"Yes, yes, so you see, I've finished answering the question, so can I..." Charles smiled slightly, put down his teacup, and shook two fingers to indicate whether he could leave.

"Little one, you're very clever, but do you think this explanation will get you away with it?" An old woman's voice rang out, but the sound was intermittent, like a faulty electrical connection.

"I'm telling the truth. You can ask if you don't believe me, or I can take you to the City of Goldfinch." Charles said earnestly.

"When I lived there, I never heard of anyone keeping goblins in their home." The woman's voice became even more intermittent.

"Uh, let me make this up..." Charles racked his brains for words, but the other party's tone was clearly unfriendly.

"Alright, little one, don't come here again, don't come to my cabin again." The female voice seemed to be enduring something, and the last syllable was much louder.

"Okay, I'll be right there," Charles said immediately.

"Hurry up!" the woman shouted, her voice sounding slightly off-key.

With a creak, the door closed, followed by a thud, and a hunchbacked old woman with a black robe, wrinkled skin, black hair, purple eyes, and a hooked nose appeared and fell to the ground.

"Uh, why did the plague break out at this time?" she said in a slightly tired young woman's voice as she crawled with difficulty.

"A witch." Charles stood by the door, watching the person on the ground warily.