Forests Don't Support Idle Goblins

"Hammerhead shark's new teeth powder, the juice of giant seaweed..."

In Torch City, at the "Dragon's Horn" magic item shop, the manager of this long-established magic item merchant guild was carefully reviewing the list in his hands.

"How is it? Do you have everything?" Uncle Musa asked with a smile.

The man wore a magical necklace that could change his appearance, so the business owners couldn't tell what he originally looked like.

However, many customers who come to the shop deliberately conceal their appearance, so the manager and waiters are already used to it.

"Sir, we have all of these items, but some are in short supply. You need a large quantity." The manager looked a little troubled. Uncle Musa, who had been served by a waiter at first, immediately called for the manager after seeing the list. "If you don't need it immediately, we can arrange for the goods to be arranged for you."

"What about the price?" Uncle Musa pretended to think. "These things are indeed very important. I need to go to Plantagenet City soon."

Hearing this, the supervisor pursed his lips slightly. "Don't worry, we will definitely provide a suitable price. If you are sure, I can issue a transfer order for you now. It should be completed in as little as seven days, no, five days."

"Five days?" Uncle Musa glanced at the list in the supervisor's hand, pretended to frown and think for a moment, then sighed, "Alright, please hurry."

"Okay, okay," the manager nodded immediately, then called a waiter to prepare the agreement and contract. "We will do our best to expedite the process and will definitely not delay you."

In Torch City, everyone knows that the Second Prince and the Third Prince's subordinates are evenly matched. The old gentleman in front of me says he's going to Golden Flower City, so he might just be going to see one of the two princes.

"By the way, do you have mithril here?" Uncle Musa asked casually.

"We have mithril, but not much," the supervisor said apologetically, shaking his head.

"The Magic Merchant Guild doesn't have much mithril?" Uncle Musa was a little surprised. Logically speaking, mithril is a connecting material for various magical items, somewhat like "adhesive," so magical item shops should have plenty of it.

"There's nothing we can do," the manager said with a wry smile, turning around to pull a tray from under the counter. On it was a lump of silver with sky-blue patterns. "Since this winter, there have been very few magical beast materials available, so we haven't stocked up on much mithril."

"The monster materials have decreased?" Uncle Musa raised an eyebrow, then he remembered something. When Sharl contacted him before, he said that the southern region of the Nightmare Forest was now under temporary control, which meant that most of the monsters had been wiped out by Sharl.

"However, that's not a big problem," the manager smiled. "We're planning to start ordering more stock."

Uncle Musa said "Oh" and waited for the other party's explanation.

"You must be from the Saros Islands," the supervisor said, glancing at Uncle Musa's tanned skin. "The availability of magical beast materials decreases in winter. This is partly due to the low temperatures, which cause many animals to hide their tracks, and partly because a large number of adventurers have moved to Torch City to make a living."

"Is that a lot?"

"Indeed, there are quite a few. I heard that Earl Valentine led a group to clear out the dangers in the forest, which resulted in the goblins being almost wiped out. The adventurers complained that they couldn't find many goblins on the edge of the forest anymore. And since there were undead pirates here before, many of them went directly to Torch City." The manager pushed the plate of mithril toward Uncle Musa, trying his best to explain.

"Then why do you need to order more stock?"

"Oh, that's because..." The supervisor smiled and waved his hand, preparing to explain the reason.

But then several angry shouts came from outside the shop: "Grab him!" "Someone, call the security team!" "There are three of them!" The shouts and curses interrupted the manager's next words. Everyone else in the shop turned to look outside. Soon, three men carrying weapons and dressed casually rushed across the road outside, carrying several items. Not long after, another group of people chased after them, shouting.

"What's going on?" Uncle Musa frowned. He noticed that the waiter in the shop was not panicked at all. Instead, he went directly to the left side of the hall and put away a staff that was nearly two meters long.

"It's those adventurers," the supervisor sighed. "Now that the undead sailors have been almost completely wiped out and the summoning array on the seabed has been destroyed, they can't find that many commissioned tasks for the time being, so some people have set their sights on some shops."

"Isn't this blatant robbery?" The man was completely stunned.

"Anyway, Torch City's security team is basically non-existent now. When the Holy Oak Cathedral was bombed by madmen, all they did was issue an arrest warrant and that was it," the manager shook his head in annoyance. "For small cases like this, the shops have to handle them themselves."

Uncle Musa glanced at the servants beside him, who were wrapping the staff in a long cloth. He had previously glimpsed the materials used in the staff: a large, translucent magic crystal, and a hollowed-out staff body engraved with runes, which was clearly made of very fine wood. The entire craftsmanship was exquisite.

"I really miss the days when Baron Mello was still around," the supervisor sighed, his gaze fixed on the staff being held. "At least back then, there wasn't all this messy nonsense."

"When the Baron was in power, taxes were much lower," a waiter muttered, "I wonder what those idiots were up to..."

"Shut up." The supervisor shouted at his subordinate, then gave Uncle Musa an apologetic smile, "I'm sorry, my subordinate was too insensible."

"It's nothing," Uncle Musa waved his hand, indicating that he didn't mind. "But we didn't finish talking about why we went into Mithril. Aren't there not many magical beast materials?"

"Oh, that was winter. Spring is just around the corner," the manager waved for the waiter to carry the staff into the shop. "Once spring arrives, these adventurers will return to Goat Horn Town, and then there will be a surge in monster materials."

"Spring will arrive in less than half a month," Uncle Musa calculated the time.

"They won't find many commissions here, but after spring, many creatures begin to sprout, animals will come out to forage, and the goblins that have been hiding will also become active. Adventurers can earn income even by hunting goblins and gathering herbs." The supervisor nodded. "As long as they enter the forest, they will definitely encounter magical beasts, and then all kinds of materials will flow into the market."

"What you say makes sense," Uncle Musa thought for a moment and nodded.

However, he then thought of something and tentatively said, "Do you think someone might kill all the magical beasts during the winter? After all, so many adventurers have moved to Torch City, so there won't be as much competition in the forest."

"You mean someone's planning to monopolize all the materials in the forest?" The supervisor chuckled. "I suppose you've seen chickens that are scared to death."

"A chicken that was scared to death?" Uncle Musa was taken aback. Wasn't he supposed to be talking about monster materials? How did it turn into this?

"Those chickens had bloodshot eyes, their feathers were all puffed up, their necks were stiff and their claws were tightly clenched together, as if they were trying to grab something," the supervisor described the chickens in a somewhat casual tone.

"What does this have to do with the materials?"

"There was another person who wanted to monopolize the materials in the forest before, and that was Earl Valentine."

"Count Valentine? Is that the Count Valentine who transported the giant creature's carcass to the capital a few months ago? I saw him in the capital back then," the uncle immediately replied.

"No, not the current Earl Valentine," the supervisor shook his head, "it's his father, the former Earl Valentine."

"The former?" Uncle Musa frowned. He hadn't heard much about him. After all, he was about the same age as Count Valentine, who served the Third Prince. Uncle Musa was obviously a bit older. When the former Count Valentine was alive, Uncle Musa was at most a guard for Baron Mello.

"Yes, do you know why the former Earl Valentine was found dead in his own bed, and why his death was so agonizing, his expression so grotesque, as if he had suffered endless torment before his death, yet he couldn't make a sound, and the guards weren't alerted at all?" The supervisor's lips curled slightly. It looked as if he had seen the corpse in its original state, "and he looked like a chicken that had been scared to death."

"This..." Uncle Musa hesitated for a moment, "Was he tortured to death?"

"Yes, strictly speaking, he was tortured to death by a magician."

Uncle Musa raised an eyebrow. "Even a count can be killed by a magician. He's a nobleman, there must be defensive measures in the castle."

"Yes, there are, indeed," the supervisor smiled, but then waved his hand and said, "but those methods are only effective for ordinary mages. For those high-level archmages, these methods are not enough."

"A high-ranking archmage?"

"Yes, those old monsters, the high-ranking members of the Spells Union," the supervisor continued to explain. "The reason the former Earl Valentine died was because he issued a decree in his territory, something like the 'Unified Procurement Order for Forest Products.' He intended to have adventurers hand over all kinds of forest products, including magical beast materials, to him, which undoubtedly directly angered the Spells Union."

"So an earl was just killed like that?" Uncle Musa clicked his tongue, a bad feeling creeping over him.

"Yes," the supervisor sighed, "that's why I'm telling you, if anyone tries to monopolize the magical beast materials in the forest, they'll definitely not have a good ending. Although those old monsters don't deal much with nobles and don't get involved in politics, they're still quite terrifying when it comes to the magical realm."

"Just like before," he pointed to the interior of the shop behind him, "that staff in front was ordered by a high-level mage. It's made entirely of the finest materials, and the magic crystals are the highest grade elemental magic crystals. Those things are extremely rare and hard to come by."

"It seems like there were three magic crystals embedded in that staff?" Uncle Musa recalled the staff he had glimpsed earlier.

"Yes, the cost of making that one staff is enough to keep this shop closed for several years," the manager said with a smile, clearly very satisfied.

"Then you really made a profit." The uncle nodded with a smile, but his gaze fell on the mithril on the counter, a hint of worry flashing in his eyes.

"The materials all belong to the employer; we only earn a production fee," the manager said with a smile and a wave of his hand, speaking casually. But it was clear that he was trying to highlight the exquisite craftsmanship of the long-established "Dragon's Horn" restaurant.

"Alright, I'll be back in five days. I hope you can complete the transfer." The uncle took the agreement and contract handed to him by the waiter, glanced at it quickly, and then signed and stamped it.

"I'll keep this mithril for now. I'll come back if I need it." He pushed the tray containing the mithril back. He had already figured out how to get the mithril, so he didn't need to buy it for the time being.

…………

"Take this longsword with you for now. Once we get back to the camp, we'll figure out how to get a better one."

Diana watched as the deputy commander, Lingard, drew his sword and examined it. She calmly advised, "It's all in the past. Your sword is lost in the forest, and it's unlikely to be found again."

"This is an ordinary steel sword." Lingard ran his fingertip along the blade a few times to feel its sharpness.

"In Giesorn, this is already a very good weapon," Diana sighed. "As long as people are alive, we can get more weapons later."

When Lingard emerged from the forest, he took the Crusaders by surprise. If he hadn't been wearing tattered armor, no one would have recognized him as the tall and handsome vice commander from before.

Fortunately, after bathing and cleaning, he returned to his original appearance, only he became somewhat thinner and his demeanor changed.

"It is indeed a good weapon." Lingard nodded and said with a smirk.

"Since you're alright, we can leave tomorrow. Staying any longer will cost a lot of money for those griffins," Diana shook her head weakly. The operation had yielded such a disastrous result that everyone's morale was somewhat low. However, as long as everyone was alive, that was all that mattered. She looked down at the expense list in her hand, preparing to contact the alchemy workshop again after returning to the base. "Pack your things, don't forget anything."

"This is difficult to clean up," Lingard said, brandishing his longsword a few times. He frowned, feeling that the weapon was not quite right to use. "Once some things are lost, they are hard to retrieve."

"You mean..." Diana didn't look up, still looking at the form in her hand, but the next second, she felt a sharp pain in her chest.

With a "thud," Lingard plunged his longsword into Diana's chest.

"I lost my longsword. Do you know what kind of sword it was?" His tone sounded calm, but his eyes were cold. "It was the Phantom Blade of the former hero."

"I've also lost my pride, trampled on by a bunch of damned goblins," his voice gradually became hysterical, "I, the chosen one of the Church of the God of War, am actually mocked by a bunch of goblins."

"Pfft!" Diana spat out a mouthful of blood. She hadn't expected her opponent to attack her so viciously. She hadn't even worn her armor to protect everyone's feelings, but Lingard in front of her had no such scruples.

"I heard you swore a blood oath, but I'm sorry, I didn't." A ruthless glint appeared in Lingard's eyes. "So I will report this to the church and have those 'deserting' paladins burned at the stake. I will also lead men again to slaughter all those goblins and avenge you."

Seeing Diana's gaze turn angry, Lingard's lips curled into a smirk. "Rest in peace. I will take your place as president. Besides, your swordsmanship is only slightly better than mine."

After saying that, he burst into silent laughter, his expression so excited that he was almost out of breath.

Unfortunately, the mad Lingard was too happy too soon. With a "whoosh," a sword flashed, and his arm holding the sword was severed. Immediately afterward, the excruciating pain made him howl loudly.

The next second, four longswords flew up, supporting the weakened Diana, smashing through the window, and flying away into the distance.

The screams and the sound of shattering glass attracted the paladins, who rushed in. "What happened? Was someone attacking us?"

The bloodstains on the ground and Lingard's deathly pale face made everyone exchange bewildered glances. "Where are the president and his men?"

Lingard continued to wail, "My hand, pick up my hand, don't step on my hand."