Warriors will die if they charge.

Shield and war club, that's all he can rely on... perhaps with the addition of a reckless but brave dwarf.

Bardin's offensive never stopped, and the steel weapons forged by the dwarves remained sharp despite countless blows.

His fingers were tattooed, and his large left hand was gripping the throat of a goblin.

With a tightening of his fingers, he ripped a large chunk of flesh from the goblin's neck, staining his beard red with the gushing blood. The battle axe landed on the goblin's shoulder, violently tearing it in two.

The dwarf laughed heartily at the thrill of settling scores, but while he could deal with one goblin, he couldn't stop the hordes of more goblins from attacking.

Rusty daggers, spiked maces, and short spears repeatedly attacked the unprotected elbows, necks, and faces.

"Marcus!"

The dwarf roared, threw aside the goblin corpse in his hands, and gripped his battle axe tightly, slashing out a blood-red arc.

Bardin wanted to warn Marcus to stay away, as he wasn't going to conserve his energy and the goblins' strength, but he saw a resolute figure quickly block his way, stopping all the wildly swinging attacks.

"Save your energy, nobody wants to drag your corpse around, Bardin."

As Bardin watched Marcus's steady back as he raised his shield, for a moment he felt that the big man was as reliable as a mountain.

He burst into laughter, turned around to fill the gap left by Marcus, and hacked down the missed enemies one by one.

"Let's have a good time, Thrung (comrade), hahaha."

Dwarves are swift in their attacks and can often kill several goblins in one fell swoop, but their short reach and slow, powerful attacks will inevitably leave them vulnerable to being surrounded by enemies when they are out of position.

Marcus, on the other hand, can rely on the margin of error provided by his shield to maintain distance from the enemy while defending against attacks.

Marcus's steady steps, inexhaustible stamina, and exceptional reaction speed always allowed him to provide ample cover for the attacking dwarves.

Having successfully crushed the ninth...or tenth goblin, Marcus raised his round shield to block the sharp rocks flying from the forest. Looking at the dwindling number of goblins, he knew the battle was nearing its end.

The dwarf, enjoying the kill, stood on the goblin's corpse, pulled a short spear stuck in the ground, and hurled it at the goblin in the woods who was using a slingshot.

The short spear sent the goblin flying, embedding it in a large tree. The wooden handle was still trembling. The dwarf watched the goblin flee in panic into the forest and laughed heartily.

"Come on! Keep going! Cowards, the dwarves are right here!"

After victory, of course, there's plenty of taunting and mockery to follow. Is there anything more satisfying than drinking beer while stepping on the enemy's corpse? No! Come on, you guys aren't even as strong as my grandmother!

—Grimm the Loudmouth, the forge guard of Brass Keep and a dwarf warrior, died in a counterattack after his victory, due to his obsession with taunting.

The records in the Warrior's Handbook flashed through his mind. Marcus, who was observing the goblins' movements, changed his expression. He released his battle staff, bent down, and tightly covered Bardin's mouth: "Bardin, there is an old saying in the East, 'Don't provoke a desperate enemy.' We should leave quickly."

But perhaps the Warrior's Handbook really had some inexplicable effects. Just as Bardin was tugging at Marcus's arm, wanting to continue his taunts, a burly, tall figure came running through the bushes from the edge of the torchlight.

Its seven-foot-tall, imposing body could reach the towering treetops. Rough, yellowish-brown fur covered its monstrous muscles, and its bloodshot eyes were just like those of a goblin, exuding madness. Thick, slippery saliva dripped from its fangs, sticking to its thick chest hair and forming shiny threads.

He gripped a thick spiked club with both hands; the handle, as thick as an adult's arm, was wrapped in dirty linen, and the hammerhead was studded with sharp, rusty iron nails.

A furtive, short goblin lurked in the shadow of the bear goblin, wearing a comical pointed hat and carrying a thin, gnarled wooden stick. Its skin was smooth, without the boils and scars commonly found on ordinary goblins.

The short goblin, who looked like a wizard, roared loudly at the dwarf:

"Rockbelly (dwarf)! Give me back my sparkle!"

Perhaps the goblin's trampling of the bush was too shocking for Bardin, for he suddenly calmed down, his expression no longer showing the excitement he had just displayed.

He first cursed a few times in a dwarven language that Marcus couldn't understand, then pointed at the massive, mountain-like bear goblin and said, "You hold that bear goblin back while I deal with the goblin wizard."

"it is good."

Marcus's unhesitating answer surprised Bardin.

The goblin wasn't exactly a tough opponent, but this big guy didn't look like a seasoned veteran either. Even if he hadn't heard of the goblin's bad reputation, just looking at the obvious difference in size, he would definitely know that this was going to be a dangerous fight.

Seeing Bardin's confusion, Marcus laughed heartily, slapping his shield with his baton, making a loud clanging sound.

"I have a dwarf's shield in my hand, brother dwarf."

Bardeen glanced at the shield Marcus was holding, his old comrade who had fought alongside him for many years:

"Haha, you're starting to know what good stuff is, buddy."

Without hesitation, Marcus mimicked the warrior's movements from his memory, slapping his shield and shouting a provocative challenge at the trembling goblin.

"Come on, I know you want a delicious meal of human flesh, but I've eaten plenty of goblin meat. It's sour and smelly, like meat stewed in a latrine. You're too big; no amount of spices can mask the stench of your excrement..."

Bardin suddenly felt that the guy's mouth seemed a bit clumsy, his eyes were fixed on the wizard who was suppressing the bear goblin's charge, and his left hand was holding a ball-shaped object at his waist.

"Is your mom a bear or your dad a bear? I know it's hard to be an orphan. Is that little beast next to you your master? He must have a good command of you. You're obedient even without a leash."

"You look familiar; you remind me of the horse's ass I saw last time."

Seeing that the goblin wizard was still locked in a stalemate with the dwarves, Marcus turned his attention to the "tribal sages" who could understand Common Tongue. He pointed at the bear goblin whose nostrils were exhaling heavy white breaths:

"He looks very strong, but I'm curious why he didn't trip you with a hammer and stomp on your face. If it were me, I would definitely do that."

"It would be so much fun to be an idiot in the forest."

The goblin wizard, who could understand Common Tongue, began to tremble. He hated being treated like an idiot. He was the only wise man in the tribe who could read and write, and had outwitted and killed countless fools!

At the same time, the bear goblin also moved. The beast, whose reins had been loosened by its master, rushed out of its cage. Its seven-foot-plus, nearly two-and-a-half-meter-tall figure seemed to shake the earth as it charged.

bang bang...

First came the commotion of broad feet pounding on the gravel, followed by the goblin's furious roar under the influence of magic, and then a dark shadow of a spiked club sweeping towards Marcus's head.

Before the goblin even arrived, the stench assaulted Marcus's nostrils—a pungent, overwhelming stench of fur, excrement, and putrid protein mixed with the smell of fur in his mouth.

The arms, as thick as tree trunks, swelled up like iron, and the spiked club, covered in steel nails, slammed down on the terrified humans.

The goblin knew that he would soon have another feast.

Just then, a round shield made of iron and oak was erected.

With a bang.

The spiked club struck the shield, the hardwood clashing against the sheet metal with a loud clang. Marcus's arm trembled violently; he felt the muscles in his left arm howling, his hand bones going numb, and the pain more intense than he had anticipated.

In the instant he was met with the charge, he even had the illusion of suffocation.

But this is just an illusion. The ample oxygen provided by theropod respiratory system can wash away the pain-causing chemicals produced at the site of the attack at an extremely fast speed.

Within a few short breaths, the pain had subsided.

He raised a pair of excited eyes from the shadows behind the shield, his right hand outstretched, and his war club slammed into the monster's arm with the most ferocious force.

Marcus's counterattack was swift; his legs straightened, his undulating muscles making his body swell, and he swung his baton with the iron spike side with all his might.

The iron spike ripped through the tangled brown fur, and he saw the bear goblin's scarlet eyes regain a sliver of clarity from the pain, its fangs spewing out foul-smelling, sticky saliva.

Sharp metal slicing through skin, hardwood hammers striking elbows, fur, muscle, neck membranes... all the way down to the bone hidden beneath.

Click~

The goblin wizard moved as the bear goblin swung his blood-soaked left hand and drew his mace from his shield.

A beam of scarlet light flashed from the slender staff that resembled a withered vine, and magical energy converged into an arrow that shot straight at Marcus's face.

A round, drum-shaped object, resembling a hand grenade, landed on the trajectory of the crimson light arrow, momentarily freezing before exploding.

A thick white fog, resembling a storm, emanated from the grenade and swept across the entire scree beach.

Marcus's vision was obscured by the smoke grenade, but he vaguely caught a sturdy figure running through the smoke out of the corner of his eye, and knew that it was Bardin who had made the move.

He grinned, staring at the furious, broken-left-armed goblin before him: "Friend, our business isn't over yet."

With several loud thuds, the spiked club and the war club continued to strike each other, and in terms of pure strength, Marcus was at a complete disadvantage.

However, the dwarf's sturdy shield provided a high margin for error. His quick reflexes, excellent stamina, and high pain tolerance allowed him to gradually adapt to the bear goblin's fierce and unpredictable attacks, and he began to subtly learn the combat strategy of shield and staff.

A shield is not just for defense; any equipment is meant to create opportunities for offense!

Marcus, seeing the goblin about to unleash a devastating thunderbolt from above, turned and nimbly stepped back to the side.

Elbows resting on the round shield, the entire body's center of gravity pressing forward.

Oki!

Taking advantage of the moment when the bear goblin's center of gravity shifted forward due to its fierce chop, he charged forward, his weight of over 100 pounds pressing down on his opponent's broken left arm.

The bear goblin leaned to the side, raising his battle staff high after preparing for a long time.

The warrior, pressing down on the monster, gathered all his strength at the tip of his battle staff and slammed it forward.

boom!

The baton slammed into the bear-like pig's ears, and the pent-up anger erupted like a torrent.

The hardwood stick touched the bone, and large pieces of it sank into the slippery pink brain, where they were then churned into a paste.

Half of the goblin's brain was smashed to pieces, and his half-missing face looked like a horse's rump painted with dark red ink, both ferocious and comical.

The monster lay limp on the ground, its thick, hairy, blood-stained fingers trying several times to grab the spiked club lying beside it, only to be struck twice more by Marcus, its entire head reduced to rubble.

After dealing with the goblin, Marcus let out a long breath. He didn't feel tired at all. Even if he was a little tired, he could just take a few more breaths and he would feel better.

"Brother Dwarf, I've taken care of things here!"

After a while, Bardin, the dwarf carrying the wizard's head and covered in blood, walked into the still-lingering smoke. He glanced at the headless goblin:

"Good job, buddy, now it's time to get out of here."