Combat Contact

About a mile from Karl's camp, on the far side of a gentle slope, the night was like thick ink, swallowing all details.

However, if anyone could pierce this darkness, they would discover with bone-chilling horror that this seemingly peaceful hillside was now crawling with hundreds of small figures.

They were goblins, raiders from the "Black Tooth" caves.

Most of these small, humanoid creatures wore clothes pieced together from crudely tanned animal hides, or tattered rags stripped from human corpses and haphazardly cut to fit poorly.

A few of the stronger-looking ones, those of higher status, wore crude armor made of scattered metal plates sewn onto leather, scavenged from who-knew-where.

Their weapons were varied: rusty short swords, chipped cleavers, wooden spears tipped with sharp stones, and even sharpened bone daggers, all reflecting a cold, faint glow under the dim starlight.

They were like a lurking swarm of locusts, terrifyingly silent, with only the occasional suppressed heavy breath and the rustling sound of weapons lightly clashing revealing the surging murderous intent hidden beneath the deathly stillness.

A goblin scout, clad in a tattered leather coat, slunk back from the foot of the slope like a ghost, agilely crawling to the side of a goblin leader wearing studded leather armor and a human cavalry helmet that was clearly too large.

It lowered its voice and spoke in slightly stiff but clear human language:

"Boss, I saw clearly, those two-legged sheep's camp is tough! They dug deep trenches, built earth walls, and erected rows of wooden fences. There are quite a few guards on watch inside, and they look alert. If we charge head-on, we'll definitely lose a lot of teeth."

The goblin leader, codenamed "Skullcracker," who was called "Boss," narrowed its eyes, which glinted with cunning ferocity from under the helmet's shadow. Its rough fingers unconsciously tapped a bloodstained short axe at its waist.

It pondered for a moment, then let out a hoarse, low voice: "Hiss... tough bone? Then let's tap it first and see what sound it makes. 'Venomtooth,' take a hundred nimble brats and sneak over. Give it a tentative bite! Don't get stuck. If they resist fiercely, run back immediately! The rest of you stay here to provide support."

It could see clearly that this human group, with its large number of slaves and supplies, was a fat prize, but the armed escort was also substantial.

Its tactic was clear: it didn't need to defeat them in one battle. It just needed to harass them constantly like a wolf pack, exhausting them, preventing them from resting, and keeping their nerves on edge.

As long as they kept following, they would eventually find a moment of laxity or an opening!

The eyes of the scout leader named "Venomtooth" flashed with a hint of bloodthirsty excitement, and it let out a low growl: "Yes, Boss!"

It immediately turned and quickly selected a hundred of the most ferocious and agile-looking goblins from the eager crowd. It quickly rallied them in their own language, hissing, roughly meaning: "Rob! Kill the weak! Run if things go bad!"

Soon, these fifty goblins scattered like unleashed wild dogs, silently using the terrain for cover. Like flowing shadows, they quickly crept towards the human camp below, where the bonfire light glowed.

Almost simultaneously with the goblins' attack, an extremely faint but distinctly unnatural sound came from the darkness at the edge of the camp.

Karl caught the discordance almost immediately and his eyes snapped open.

At the same time, many soldiers, already finding it hard to sleep in their armor and with their nerves on edge, vaguely heard the commotion.

"Bang!"

A swift gunshot rang out from the fence!

Immediately after, an angry shout pierced the silence: "Enemy attack!! Southwest direction!!"

Almost the same instant the sentry issued the warning, Karl sprang up like a leopard, his roar echoing through the camp: "Enemy attack! All hands to positions! Prepare to fight!"

The soldiers, who had been tormented by the order for half the night, now felt a sense of relief, as if to say, "It's finally here."

They jumped up reflexively, grabbed their weapons, and under the urgent command of officers like Brendan, Richter, and Roland, quickly rushed to their designated defensive positions: behind the earthen ramparts, in the gaps of the wooden fence, and behind it!

As soon as they were in position, they saw countless small, twisted, ferocious figures surging out of the darkness like ghosts, instantly swarming to the edge of the trench!

Immediately after, a dense volley of short spears, stones, and bone arrows rained down from the darkness like a swarm of locusts!

"Shields up!" the front-line shield bearers roared, raising their shields with all their might.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Dull impacts landed on the shield surfaces like raindrops. The force wasn't great, but it was extremely annoying. Occasionally, an arrow would slip through a gap, bringing a muffled groan or curse.

"Firearms squad! Front trench! Volley fire!" Brendan seized the moment and ordered sharply.

The musketeers, who had already loaded and waited for a long time, immediately rested their gun barrels on the fence, aiming at the goblins who were throwing weapons in front of the trench, trying to fill the obstacle.

"Fire!"

Bang--!

A neat, fierce roar exploded. A line of scorching lead bullets swept across the edge of the trench like the scythe of death.

The goblins were small and densely packed, so one bullet could often easily penetrate two or three bodies before losing its momentum.

In an instant, severed limbs flew, and shrill screams rose one after another. The thick smell of gunpowder and blood instantly filled the air!

This sudden fierce strike and the deafening roar had clearly exceeded the goblins' expectations.

They fell into brief confusion and hesitation, seemingly having never encountered weapons with such deterrence and lethality.

But ferocity soon overcame fear!

Urged on by some of their leaders' screams, the remaining goblins let out frantic shrieks and charged forward even more desperately.

Some exceptionally agile goblins leaped across the not-too-wide trench, but what awaited them were densely packed, sharp long spears thrusting out from the gaps in the fence!

Sputter! Sputter!

The goblins that leaped over were like they had run onto spear tips, instantly pierced by more than a dozen spears simultaneously. Their bodies were impaled mid-air, struggling and twitching futilely, letting out desperate wails.

Even more goblins attempted to climb the fence directly, but their small stature made it difficult to find purchase on the smooth or sharpened logs. Halfway up, they were fiercely pushed outward by the shield bearers behind them, falling back into the bottom of the trench with screams, only to be impaled on the sharpened stakes pre-set inside!

The first wave of probing attacks, under the human camp's tight defenses and fierce firepower, was instantly repelled with bloody heads!