Starting with the goblin extermination

The journey was anything but boring, as Papa and Barron were chattering away, pestering Logan with questions about the North.

Logan was happy to chat with them, after all, it was quite a distance from here to their destination, and even just to ease the pain in his buttocks, he had to talk.

After all, this road is too steep.

The carriage wheel was rolling over a protruding rock, and the whole carriage jolted violently.

Logan was jolted so hard he almost flew off the box, his backside felt like he'd been kicked hard, and the package he was carrying slipped from his hands and rolled onto the floor of the vehicle.

The package contained his life-saving supplies: two rolls of rough bandages, a jar of hemostatic ointment, a few pieces of dried meat, a few pieces of black bread, and a water sac.

1 silver coins and 85 copper coins.

This was all Logan had left. Although he had boasted to Thorin that he might not need the leather armor, he still had to be prepared in case Thorin got injured.

After all, in a world without health insurance, it's always better to be careful.

Captain Thorin sat next to the coachman. A dented helmet covered his face, and he was snoring rhythmically with the swaying of the carriage.

Logan noticed that even while sleeping, Thorin's hand was gripping the handle of the battle axe tightly.

That's something he does, just like Logan.

The scene at the back of the carriage was quite different.

Is the snow in the north really that heavy? Heavy enough to bury a person?

Papa's eyes widened with excitement, half an apple dangling from his mouth, radiating boundless energy, completely oblivious to the impending battle.

"able."

Logan instinctively circled his face and stuffed the things out of his bag.

"When I was a child, my father was sweeping the eaves. When he shoveled down the snow, I was instantly buried completely. If he hadn't dug quickly, I would be a block of ice by now."

"That's so cool..." Papa exclaimed. "I want to go to a place like that! Staying in Riverwood all day, either hunting or baking bread for my mom, is so boring."

The young dwarf Baron also came over. Although he was still a bit reserved, he was much more relaxed than when he was in the guild. It seemed that he was socially awkward and didn't like crowded places.

"Logan, are there really warriors everywhere there?" Baron asked softly, a hint of longing in his eyes. "I've heard bards say that northerners are born warriors, born with fighting skills."

"That's utter nonsense!"

Suddenly, a curse word burst out from ahead, followed seamlessly by thunderous snoring that resumed immediately.

“Your uncle is right,” Logan glanced at Thorin and corrected him with a smile. “We’re no different from you, we have one nose and two eyes, maybe a little more warlike, but most of us just spend our whole lives farming.”

Looking at the two newcomers in front of him, Logan seemed to see his past self back in the North. So innocent and naive, so adorable.

Elsa, who had been sitting in the corner, remained silent.

She huddled in her gray robe like a shadow, her small hands crossed over her chest, her eyes occasionally glancing at the three people chatting.

She neither participated nor interrupted; it had nothing to do with her.

"Whoa—!"

The driver suddenly pulled on the reins.

Thorin's helmet slipped off his face, but he caught it.

"arrive."

Logan patted the longsword at his waist and jumped off the carriage.

"Get down here! All of you, get the hell serious! Don't think we're here for a picnic!"

Thorin pointed to the dense broad-leaved forest ahead:

"According to the guild's intelligence, a caravan transporting salted fish and cloth was attacked here last week. Those bastards even swallowed the mules pulling the carts whole. Their camp must be nearby."

Logan looked up.

The Hecatetus Mountains.

The rolling mountains, like the spine of a giant beast, stretch across the sky and the earth, their peaks shrouded in clouds and mist.

Not long ago, he crossed the mountains like a stray dog ​​and arrived in Riverwood.

I didn't expect you to be back so soon.

"Over here."

Elsa's voice broke the silence.

She had already squatted down beside the bushes by the roadside, her slender fingers picking up soil and smelling it, before pointing to an animal trail deep in the woods.

"There are signs of something being dragged, and the smell is right." She stood up, plucked a leaf, and wiped her hands. "A goblin passed by about two hours ago."

"Let's go!" Thorin swung his axe. "Elsa, lead the way! Baron and I will protect Papa on either side, and Logan will bring up the rear!"

The group began to move forward.

The mountain path was difficult to walk on, with tangled tree roots and greasy moss everywhere. Branches constantly struck Logan's face along the way, leaving white marks.

Nevertheless, hiking mountain trails had become commonplace for Logan.

Baron and Papa, the two newcomers, kept up with the team and did not slow down the team's progress.

Elsa, at the very front, led the way, weaving through the forest.

This woman is indeed extraordinary.

In this world, the job definition of a wanderer is not clear.

Some say they are petty thieves, some say they are like wandering knights, the darlings of the forest, and some say they are assassins in the shadows.

Or is Elsa one of them?

Her movements were so clean. She made almost no sound as she walked, each step landing with the precision of a cat on unobstructed ground, without even disturbing a drooping branch.

Perhaps it's combat skills, or perhaps it's due to specific training.

In any case, with stronger teammates, this mission will be much easier.

hiss--

The bushes on the left exploded.

A black phosphorus snake as thick as an arm sprang out and lunged straight at Baron, who was closest to it.

The young dwarf turned pale with fright, but his movement to raise the shield was not slow at all.

boom--

The shield slammed into the ground, and the venomous snake, dazed and disoriented, fell to the ground.

A flash of cold light followed immediately.

Logan didn't even stop; with a casual flick of his wrist, the snake was cleaved in two.

The snake's body was still writhing on the ground, but its head had already flown into the pit.

"The response is good."

Logan sheathed his longsword, and only then did the young dwarf Baron, who was standing to the side, come to his senses, a grateful smile appearing on his face.

Thorin nodded to Logan in thanks, but then slapped his nephew hard on the back of the head.

Snapped!

"You raised your shield pretty quickly, but is your sword just for show? You still have to rely on outsiders to clean up your mess! Be quicker next time!"

Baron clutched the back of his head and quickly gripped his short sword, which made Papa burst into laughter.

Logan shook his head helplessly and flicked the snake's body away with his toe.

Black phosphorus vipers have venom sacs, making them extremely difficult to deal with.

There's no time for that now, so tonight's extra meal is off the table.

The procession continued forward.

After walking for about twenty more minutes, Elsa suddenly stopped.

She didn't speak, but slowly raised her left hand and then pressed it down.

Everyone immediately fell silent and crouched behind the bushes.

Looking in the direction Elsa was pointing, there was a stream flowing through the forest.

On the pebble-strewn riverbank, several small, green-skinned creatures with pointed ears were moving about.

The objective of this mission—

Goblin.

There are four in total.

Two of them were slashing at each other with short swords, shouting and cursing.

It was less of a training session and more of a playful fight.

A dog was lying sprawled out on a scorching hot rock, fast asleep, drool dripping from its mouth, thoroughly enjoying itself.

The last one was squatting by the river.

Logan frowned.

The goblin was holding a wild rabbit that had only been half-skinned. The rabbit wasn't cooked at all; there was still bloody raw meat inside, but the goblin didn't care. It took a big bite and chewed it, bones and fur together, making a teeth-grinding crunching sound.

Logan subconsciously touched his stomach.

Although it was a bit disgusting, he envied the goblins' appetites. Raw meat, rotten meat, bones—they could eat anything, and dared to eat anything. If he had an iron stomach like theirs, he could probably save a lot of money.

Thorin glanced at Elsa, and seeing that her finger was pointing to the number '4', he lowered his voice and said:

"Four of them, just enough for us to warm up."