I didn't intend to destroy the world.

Crescent Moon is dying.

It's both a pity and foolish.

Her death was like a beautiful silk scarf falling into a cesspool; even if you reached down and pulled it out, it would be of no use.

"Ugh..." She was still breathing, crimson blood flowing from her mouth and nose, and several red-stained sharp wooden stakes pierced through her abdomen, with bits of intestine still hanging out.

Her beautiful face was filled with disbelief, and her eyes grew increasingly empty and unfocused.

Levitt deliberately took a step back, not daring to stand on the edge, for fear that he would fall in as well.

"Although it's not those Blood Burning guys, something has finally fallen into the pit after months of being trapped there." The goblin monitoring Levitt came over, sounding quite pleased.

"Levitt..." Crescent Moon uttered a weak voice, and she trembled as she stretched out a finger and traced it towards Levitt, as if she were writing.

What is she trying to convey?

Levitt frowned, looking at Crescent Moon, wondering what it was up to.

Crescent Moon's fingers traced patterns in the air a few times, then suddenly her eyes widened as if she understood something, and she said to Levitt, "Rotten Blade... watch out for it..."

"What did you say?!" Levitt thought to himself, how could Crescent Moon possibly know the name of Rotten Blade?

Beware of broken knives?

Why did Xianyue say that?

Unfortunately, Crescent Moon didn't have a chance to answer Levitt's question. Her pupils dilated, and she fell silent.

"Go, go back." The goblin pointed his bow and arrow at Levitt, ordering him to return to the rotten knife.

Levitt's gaze lingered on Crescent Moon's face for a moment longer before he turned and left.

So it just goes to show that Miss Crescent Moon can't walk her own path without someone's support.

Actually, walking ahead of the goblin, Levitt hesitated a bit about whether to resist, kill the watcher, and then escape the Forest of Monsters.

However, implementing this idea will be quite difficult.

I, a mere farmer, am not necessarily a match for those green-skinned dwarves with armed men behind me.

Even if I manage to escape, how will I get out of the Monster Forest and evade the pursuers of the Broken Blade?

Moreover, according to Levitt's own thinking, he had a premonition when he set off today that this rotten knife would not harm him.

Of course, this has nothing to do with the kindness or benevolence of the rotten knife.

That crescent moon's sudden reminder seemed to come out of nowhere.

What exactly did she mean by making those gestures in the air?

Rather than the so-called "a dying man's words are good," Levitt is more inclined to believe that Crescent Moon is causing trouble and disgusting himself.

It's a stinky brand after all.

After much hesitation, Levitt obediently returned to the edge of the swamp.

Then, he saw something he didn't want to see—

Ralph is dead.

Although he fought a fierce battle and achieved considerable success, killing two armed goblins that were stronger than his kind, he was still beheaded by a rotten blade amidst the cheers of the other goblins, and his head was impaled on a spear.

The battlefield was brutal; we can see that Ralph had abandoned his bow and arrow before his death and instead used a short sword to fight his enemies, while the rotten knife had also left the demon wolf and was now using a spear.

Archers are not weak in melee combat; the idea that they are weak is a misconception and a stereotype. In this regard, Levitt also noticed that there were many wounds of various sizes on the rotten knife.

When Rotten Knife saw Levitt return, it blinked its yellow-green eyes. Instead of speaking, it directed its subordinates to dig a pit to bury its fallen kin and then perform some kind of mourning ceremony.

Levitt remained silent until the ceremony ended.

"The elven mage is dead," Rotten Knife asked him.

Levitt nodded, his gaze falling on Ralph's head.

All he could think about was Crescent Moon's words, "Be careful of the rotten knife."

"Where are the other two?" Rotten Knife asked.

Levitt replied, "Not here."

"You don't know where it is." Rotten Knife narrowed his eyes. Levitt glanced at him but did not answer.

Lan Dao noticed the satchel on Levitt's waist and said, "The Forest of Monsters is very dangerous for them, and it is for us too."

Levitt didn't say anything, but looked down at his handbag.

A grayish-brown coarse cloth shoulder bag, worn and frayed, with the shoulder strap stitched up again and again.

What he saw inside after opening it:

Some jewelry and coins, underwear, and a book with two pages of spells written inside.

Levitt was overjoyed; there really was good stuff!

In this world, mages are treated like royalty; they can easily get a government job.

What I have is no less than a civil service exam preparation guide... oh no, it should be called a life strategy guide!

Levitt was so happy that he suddenly felt dizzy and his chest felt like it was choking on something.

"Put all the treasure in the old place."

Lan Dao mounted the demon wolf, turned around and looked at him. "Levitt, what's wrong with you?" He noticed that Levitt's expression had become very strange, and his face looked terrible.

"I feel a little dizzy, I don't know what's wrong." Levitt quickly walked to the tree trunk, supported himself with one hand, and glanced at the rotten knife with his gradually blurring eyes.

Something's not right...

Beware of broken knives?

What did that rotten knife do to me?

It doesn't look like what it does.

Levitt's head was throbbing with pain; he clutched his head with one hand and gasped for breath.

"Levitt?" The man with the broken knife walked over after getting off the demon wolf.

"It was Crescent Moon. She gestured at me when she died, and my head hurt. She also somehow knew your name," Levitt said quickly.

Upon hearing this, Rotten Knife helped Levitt up and explained, "This is a mage! You must have been cursed by her. Old Scar should know something..."

Before Levitt could hear what Rotten Knife had to say, everything went black before his eyes, and he collapsed heavily to the ground.

Levitt's consciousness did not completely disappear.

He could feel himself lying on the hard ground, hear a commotion, then a close-quarters fight, and feel some warm liquid splashed on him.

A battle has broken out...

......

The wheels crushed tree branches, and the carriage swayed and rocked.

A strong, pungent smell of blood filled Levitt's nostrils. He opened his eyes and was greeted by a clear, azure sky.

"Hey, you're awake?"

Levitt looked in the direction of the sound and saw a bald man with a big beard sitting in the back of a carriage waving at him.

"You are..." Levitt tried to sit up, the lingering pain in his brain still present.

The carriage carried three men and one woman, dressed in typical adventurer attire, likely a team. Levitt once again focused his gaze on the bearded man's face.

He must be the boss.

"I'm leading my adventure team to hunt down that group of goblins that attacked you. You're lucky, we caught up with them." The bearded man patted Levitt on the shoulder.

Levitt seemed to recall that there were indeed adventure groups hunting special goblins.

He looked in the direction of the bearded man's hand and found that he was still carrying that bag, and the weight inside didn't seem to have decreased.

"Although we failed to eliminate the goblin leader, we saved you," the bearded man suddenly said, pointing in a direction. "You are different from your companions; you arrived safely in the town of Zendar."

In the direction he was pointing, a small town could be vaguely seen.

"Zendar Town..." Levitt felt an unprecedented sense of security. They weren't the only ones on the road leading to the town; there were other pedestrians coming and going.

Their fate is uncertain in the hands of goblins, but as long as they are in a settlement of intelligent beings, they are absolutely safe... probably?

"Thank you so much," Levitt said sincerely.

"It's nothing. We're all adventurers, and helping each other is a virtue. But there's something bad going on," the bearded man said seriously, stroking his chin.

"Something bad happened?" Levitt smacked his lips twice, the taste of blood in his mouth was just too strong.

The bearded man pointed his finger at Levitt's nose: "You, now afflicted with the evil curse of goblins, probably don't have many days left to live."

"Huh?" Levitt was taken aback as warm blood flowed from his nostrils.