CH 8

My mother's dress and my own clothes were made by my father. His skills shone brightly in Hebron, where factory-made goods were costly. No one made comments about gender roles or jobs when the Sir himself was crafting and selling clothes.

"Someday, when the Eastern Forest is open, we might be able to sell the clothes my father makes in other territories."

I supported my father.

I wanted him to succeed, to be proud.

I desired for him to prove that one could still shine, even if they weren't the strongest knight or the most powerful magician.

No, at the very least, I wanted him to show me what a happy life looked like.

"Take care, son."

"Yes, father."

"My back hurts more today. Maybe it's time to hand over the territory."

Every time I called him 'Sir,' he'd respond like this, so I started to call him 'Father' instead.

My mother's eyes were locked on me.

She hugged her suddenly distant son, trying to warm him with her arms.

Yet, I couldn't change how I felt.

My last life's mother, the Duchess of Vreio, was the reason.

"My son is a genius. It's only natural, he shares my blood. Before his birth, I dreamt of a dragon. The dragon picked me up and soared into the sky."

I heard words like these until I was about seven.

Over time, my mother became worried, even setting up a harsh private tutor for me.

I was pushed hard in my lessons of swordplay and magic.

But my physical abilities didn't change.

Neither pain nor despair could grow talent in me.

'I hold a grudge against you. One day, I'll let you know. And if you play a role in my death...'

Hebron was practically under my control.

In one month, I had won the hearts of the soldiers and the residents.

My father seemed relieved, as if I had lifted a burden off him.

I stood before the eager soldiers.

"Today, we're going to clear out the goblins in the Eastern Forest. They're just monsters. Don't lose to such lowly creatures. They're only the beginning of our journey. Survive till the end, see Hebron's transformation. The glory of Hebron on that day will be your glory."

"Uwaaaaaaah! Hebron! Hebron! Hebron!"

Hebron had allocated 10 soldiers and 30 standing army members for protection.

I led 34 soldiers and Sir Brown into the Eastern Forest.

Our troop count was far from enough to conquer the goblin territory, with their uncountable numbers.

Yet, I didn't waver.

Waiting would only give the goblins more chances to multiply.

'If we turn a blind eye to the goblins, Hebron will be swallowed by the Nurha Marquisate.'

The Nurha Marquisate, located beyond the Eastern Forest, had constructed multiple layers of walls and barriers to keep the goblins at bay.

They had no plans to help Hebron.

Instead, they eagerly awaited Hebron's downfall.

When the goblin horde descended upon Hebron, they intended to swoop in with their forces and claim Hebron for themselves.

With the justification of safeguarding Hebron, they needn't worry about the judgment of neighboring Sirs or the royal family.

'This won't happen. If we're bested by mere goblins, surpassing Vreio will forever remain a dream.'

During my time in the Duchy of Vreio, I had studied various monsters.

I'd hoped to discover if they harbored any unique abilities unseen in humans. Thanks to a specialist magician dedicated to monster experimentation in the duchy, my research was very simple.

Goblins. Standing between 1 and 1.2 meters tall. Mainly armed with daggers, they fire paralyzing poison-coated needles, effective within a 10-meter range. The poisoned area becomes numb, slowing movements, but knights trained in aura control remain unaffected. Their intelligence is like a child's, but every now and then, a clever one is born, and on rare occasions, a shaman might emerge.

This was the extent of my knowledge.

But that was sufficient.

Hebron's soldiers had faced goblins countless times during their yearly tax transports.

As we neared the Eastern Forest's edge, Sir Brown called out.

"Put on the wolf disguises!"

The soldiers donned gray wolf skin tops made of tanned leather.

These tops featured wolf-head hoods that, when worn, barely exposed the soldiers' faces.

They were also given leather gloves and boots, with extra padding on the joints.

This was our protection against the goblin's paralyzing needles.

The soldiers were equipped with spears and round shields.

Javelin bundles were secured on their backs.

Their spirits were notably higher compared to a month ago.

This was due to almost a month's worth of hands-on training against wild beasts.

'I made the right choice, pushing them hard. It boosts their chances of survival. And once this extermination is over, their complaints will disappear.'

For a month, spear training continued even after beast hunting sessions.

Three days ago, I taught them the Hebron Aura Drilling Method.

I had personally enhanced this method, streamlining it for easy mastery, even for those lacking in talent.

Sir Brown yelled out.

"Shields up! Javelins at the ready!"

The soldiers hung their round shields on their wrists and gripped short spears in their right hands, rather than long ones.

They adopted the javelin stance from the Monolith Spear Technique.

The soldiers couldn't conceal their enthusiasm.

They were keen to prove themselves to me.

They wanted to master more than just the Hebron Aura Drilling Method and the Monolith Spear Technique.

Contentment with mere soldiering was a thing of the past; they craved greater accomplishments.

Despite these individual ambitions, the soldiers didn't strive for personal glory.

Their strides were synchronized, their eyes continuously seeking their comrades, exchanging silent reassurances.

A bond had formed among them.

'Just as described in the books.'

I had browsed several war narratives suggesting that harsh training forged such bonds among soldiers.

Over the last month, I had trained diligently with the sling.

While archery offered greater precision and lethality, for non-long-range attacks, the sling was adequate.

Whooosh, swooosh, poof! I launched a smooth pebble with my specially crafted sling.

The pebble sailed through the distant trees, striking a goblin's head.

The goblin scout dropped with a thump! beneath the tree.

Simultaneously, a horn's sound resonated from within the forest.

Whoooom!

The bushes trembled.

It was the synchronized movement of dozens of goblins.

Yet, they didn't rush recklessly.

Goblins were different from beasts.

They weren't mindless.

Having noticed our approach, they rallied their troops and readied for a surprise onslaught.

Unsheathing my sword, I roared.

"Hebron!"

"Strike! Forward!"

We fearlessly charged into the forest.

The beasts had long since scattered, driven away by our advance.

No, over the past month, we had hunted the beasts in this region nearly to extinction.

"Shields!"

The soldiers concealed their faces behind their shields.

A barrage of stones and paralyzing needles erupted from the bushes.

It was in vain.

The goblins' might couldn't harm our leather-clad soldiers.

The adrenalized soldiers didn't even register any pain.

"Forward!"

The soldiers arranged themselves into two ranks.

We split our forces in two, with me leading the vanguard and Brown commanding the rearguard.

The vanguard would spearhead the initial combat.

As we methodically advanced in formation, the goblin warriors, oppressed by our presence, were forced into action.

Yet, they were not disciplined soldiers.

They possessed a semblance of organization, but it barely surpassed that of ordinary beasts or monsters.

Three goblins rushed forward, mouths agape, firing paralyzing needles.

Goblin warriors leaped from the trees, brandishing their daggers.

"Hurl the javelins!"

The frontline soldiers launched their short spears.

The charging goblin horde was impaled on the hurled spears.

The remaining goblins were my responsibility.

Darting among them, I sliced through goblin throats.

From the rear, Brown, who was overseeing the battle, cried out.

"Subdue the remaining monsters! Reform the ranks!"

Whooosh, swooosh, poof!

A drawback of the sling was its need for acceleration.

A couple of swings were required, and even attempting to fling the pebbles after a single rotation was no mean feat.

Especially amidst the forest with its countless obstacles, the accuracy dwindled.

Whooosh, swooosh, poof!

Two goblins tumbled from the trees.

One died instantly, its neck snapped in the fall, while the other survived the initial fall only to perish, its head crushed and leg shattered.

"At least 10 targets, 50 meters ahead! I'll reinforce the second row!"

I raised my hand.

I had instructed Brown to hold his position.

"Don't lose your composure over a mere dozen. We still have a long road ahead."

The Eastern Forest was swarming with goblins.

Unless they launched a collective attack, the most efficient approach was for the first and second rows to take turns in battle.

It was a tactic to preserve energy.

At some point, the goblins had forsaken their paralysis needles.

They charged us, armed only with short swords.

Some brandished stone axes, with stones fastened onto wooden handles.

Their weaponry was rudimentary at best.

"Maintain formation. Stay calm. We must battle till dusk."

The soldiers signalled each other to keep their ranks.

That was the strength of our strategy.

High-ranking knights could shatter this tight formation with a single blow, but the optimal countermeasure was staying together.

Keek!

The goblins' screeches reverberated from all directions.

Brown, monitoring the situation from the rear, raised his sword and bellowed.

"At least 30 targets! I'll reinforce the second row!"

I nodded, allowing the second row to engage.

The distance between the front and rear ranks lessened, with the frontline soldiers lifting their shields high.

The bushes rustled noisily on all sides.

The goblins began to emerge, one by one.

Like impish children, they charged towards us, waving their short swords.

"Second row, hurl the javelins!"

"Hurl the javelins!"

The rear-row soldiers launched their spears.

Eighteen short spears sailed through the air.

Some impaled goblins, while others embedded into the ground and trees.

"Change formation! First row, defend!"

"Change formation! First row, defend!"

The soldiers echoed the orders, ensuring their comrades heard them.

They moved in unison, like cogwheels in a well-oiled machine.

"Second row, ready the javelins... launch!"

Along with the soldiers who had retreated, I flung my short spear.

It was less than 10 seconds since the initial spears had been hurled.

"Second row, reassume positions... thrust!"

The soldiers in the second row stood prepared with their long spears.

They assumed a stance ingrained in their muscle memory through endless drills.

The foundational posture of the Monolith Spear Art - a horizontal thrust.

Shhhhh!

Long spears protruded from between the shields of the first row, almost reflexively.

They impaled the goblins that were assaulting the shields with their short swords, reducing their numbers by half in a flash.

"Engage!"

The soldiers dissolved their formation.

They surged forward recklessly, impaling the goblins.

In the midst of the melee, I, too, took down goblins.

"Woahhh!"

Victorious cheers rang out from the soldiers.

They were exhilarated.

Such a thrilling victory was a novel experience for them.

"Second row, recuperate! First row, prepare for combat!"

This location was the entrance to the Eastern Forest.

A place from where we could withdraw at any time.

Perhaps due to this, the goblins maintained their distance.

'In that case, we'll have to take the fight to them.'

"Scouting."

At my command, three soldiers skilled in scouting promptly stood up and ventured into the forest.

They formed a trio.

This was a precaution against potential enemy ambushes.

The soldiers collected the relatively intact short spears and short swords used by the goblins.

Meanwhile, I seated myself on the ground and started meditating.