Forests Don't Support Idle Goblins

As noon approached, Black Lion City, the residence of Earl Valentine, was bustling with activity and traffic.

A night heron flew over Black Lion City and arrived at the western dock, where many boats were entering and leaving the port, including fishing boats returning from fishing. The heron circled above, hoping that the fishing boats would throw out a few small fish.

The dock was bustling with activity. Many laborers lined up to carry goods off the cargo ship, while a supervisor stood beside them shouting "Be careful!" A red squirrel perched on the treetop by the dock, its pupils reflecting the busy people.

Suddenly, a pair of claws in the squirrel's pupils grew larger and larger. It quickly dodged the night heron's attack, then darted away, leaping from one tree to another, then running onto the red-tiled roof of the gray stone house, and climbing over the rope stretched between the two buildings.

As it neared the end of the rope, the squirrel stopped, looked down at the passing wagons carrying cargo and the towering castle in the distance, and finally leaped into a second-floor window of a three-story building.

It darted skillfully to the table by the window, weaved through several wine glasses and scattered books, carefully avoided a sharp dagger, and flew from the table to land on a man's clothes.

After a few quick climbs, it reached the man's shoulder. The man handed it a peanut, which the red squirrel happily ate.

"President, when do we set off?" the chestnut-haired man asked.

"Don't rush, Ricardo," the other man said, walking to the table and sheathing his short sword. "We still need to prepare some more supplies."

"I've had enough of that pretentious pretty boy." A bald, burly man with a bare chest in the corner slammed a pile of clothes on the ground. "This tattered suit is so uncomfortable."

"You should still put on your breastplate, grab your two-handed axe, and beckon to a minotaur," a thin, blond man in an elegant suit said with a smile, putting down his book. "Or you could beckon to some beauty in the red-light district."

"Chigo, you know I can slice that young master Philip's head off with a single axe stroke." The burly man patted his strong arm.

"Alright, Jacques, don't disturb Chigo's research." The chairman handed the burly man a large glass of ale, then turned to the chestnut-haired man, "Ricardo, are you sure what you heard earlier wasn't wrong?"

"President, that's right," Ricardo fed another peanut to the red squirrel on his shoulder. "Before we arrived, that pretty boy was taming a little imp and chatting with the captain of the guard, Jules, about the prince's reply."

"President Martel, after we finish dealing with the forest matter, shall we head straight to the capital?" Qige, dressed in a formal suit, reached out, and a wine glass on the table flew over and landed steadily in his hand.

"Yes," Storm Brotherhood President Martel nodded, stroking the thin scar on his left cheek, "You've all heard from Ricardo that something big is going to happen in the capital in the coming year, and that might be our opportunity."

"Let's use this trip to the forest to select more people, and then head straight for the capital," he said in a deep voice.

"It's infuriating to think about," the bald, burly man Jacques slammed his wooden cup on the table with a loud bang. "All that pretty boy did was give us a few bottles of potions and some broken arrows, not even a magic scroll. We've been here for almost two years and haven't even smelled the secret medicine. And he still has the nerve to call himself a count."

"Alright, Jacques, do you want to call in the security team?" Martel said with a smile. "You've lived in Black Lion City for so long, don't you know what kind of people they are?"

"Qige, did you find anything?" he asked, turning his head.

"There's no clear evidence to show the map's credibility, but I checked some newspapers and association records and found some interesting things." Qige put down the book in his hand.

"Tell me quickly." The burly man Yakla pulled up a stool and sat down next to him, his eyes shining.

"It's true that someone claimed to have encountered a group of goblins with certain combat skills deep in the forest, quite different from ordinary burrow goblins, but that was a year ago, and this person couldn't provide a specific location." Qigo then took out a newspaper. "Recently, there's been a lot of talk in Sheephorn Town about a Devilclaw Bear that has been rampaging in the forest for almost two months. It has killed many adventurers, and even experienced adventurer teams have not been spared."

"Many adventurers are looking for it, but they just can't find it. If the map is reliable, maybe some powerful character in the Goblin Fortress has taken care of it."

"As you all know, there are many amazing ruins or powerful creatures in the forest, so I think the goblin fortress drawn on that map is somewhat credible."

"Anything else, Chigo?" Jacques urged, hoping to hear more deductions.

"Alright, Jacques, this is enough for you to brag about to those beauties in the red-light district," Martel interrupted the burly man.

He pulled an old sheepskin from his pocket and spread it on the table. On the sheepskin was a slightly hastily drawn map, on which only three landmarks could be seen. One was Goat Horn Town, and then a dark line curved upwards to a spot with seven black dots, marking the Goblin Cave. The dark line continued upwards, passing through a forest, and finally reached a star marker with the words "Goblin Fortress" written next to it.

"Moreover, I think there's another possibility." Qige took a sip of red wine from his glass.

"Tell me about it," Jacques said eagerly, craning his neck.

"The goblins are up to something," Chigo said, putting down his glass. "I've always believed there's a goblin kingdom deep in the forest, and now they might be trying to explore it."

"If that's the case, there will be quite a few good things in this goblin fortress," Martel said with a smile.

"Yes, but it can also be very dangerous," Qige reminded the other person.

"So what? We'll use the same old method: catch a bunch of goblins, throw them in, and after they scream and scream, all the traps will be exposed," Jacques said nonchalantly. "If all else fails, we'll just send those idiots who want to join to test the waters first."

"Jacques, some of them will be your companions in the future," Martel interrupted the burly man with a smile.

He then wiped the scar on his cheek with his thumb and said with a determined look in his eyes, "This is our best chance to rise. If we succeed, we can even be recognized by the kingdom and become a knightly order. So this time, we must kill whatever enemy we encounter. After a few more days of preparation, we'll gather everyone and set off for Goblin Town. We'll use the pretext of clearing out goblins and selecting members to mobilize the adventurers, then explore the route and head straight for the Goblin Fortress."

"Ricardo, during this time you continue to monitor the Earl's mansion and that poor young master, remember not to let him find out."

"No problem," Ricardo, who had been focused on playing with the red squirrel and hadn't participated in their discussion, nodded immediately upon hearing the guild leader assign a task. "Should we still look for that little imp that pretty boy asked us to find?"

"Looking for it isn't a problem; we need a key to get into Golden Flower City too," Martel said with a smile.

"I'd love to hear what that poor young master has to say then."