Bloody Battle

"Goblins?"

Gazing at the figures emerging from the dense forest, Roland couldn't help but frown deeply.

The creatures had pointed ears, protruding fangs, and ugly, ferocious faces.

The only difference from his memory was that these goblins, on their originally green skin, were covered in strange, reddish-orange patterns.

Although people often said goblins were the lowest-tier monsters, even weaker than kobolds by a third, Roland didn't dare to be careless.

Because the bloodthirsty glint in these goblins' triangular eyes was completely different from their rumored cowardly and timid image.

What was even more unsettling...

"Over ten... no, that's not right!"

As more and more goblins emerged from the forest, Roland couldn't help but grip his sword hilt tighter, his knuckles turning slightly white.

It wasn't that he was afraid.

With his current strength, he could easily dispatch ordinary kobolds, so he naturally wouldn't fear these smaller goblins.

But a vast disparity in numbers could often compensate for the lack of individual strength.

After all, he was only flesh and blood, and his stamina would eventually run out.

With this thought, Roland subtly glanced around, secretly looking for an escape route while speaking.

"Young Master Darko, something's wrong. We should prepare to flee."

"Heh! So it's these green-skinned vermin!"

However, Darko didn't heed Roland's cautious advice, merely licking his lips excitedly.

"Roland, have you encountered goblins before? This is my first time seeing them outside of books."

Darko clenched his sword hilt, his body tensed, eager to fight.

"I heard from the guards at the manor that on the Adventurer's Guild's bounty list, one of these bastards' ears is worth eight copper coins."

"Not only that, but if you hunt enough, you'll earn the cheers of everyone present."

As if picturing himself being surrounded by cheers for his bravery, the young noble's eyes seemed to ignite with flames.

"Don't be impulsive, Young Master Darko."

Watching the goblins form a simple formation and slowly advance, Roland lowered his voice to remind him.

But Darko grinned carelessly.

In his eyes, these green-skinned monsters, barely half his height, were not even as dangerous as the wolves he had hunted before.

"They're just goblins, what's there to be afraid of? Watch this!"

Before he finished speaking, he ignored Roland's attempt to stop him and drew his sword, charging forward. His silver blade cut a sharp arc in the sunlight.

The goblin at the front, holding a rusty short spear, didn't even have time to parry before its head flew off, spraying blood.

"So satisfying!"

Darko, unfazed by the blood splattering on his face, let out a triumphant low growl before continuing his advance without missing a beat.

His swordsmanship was grand and sweeping, each strike imbued with the elegance and precision befitting a noble. Wherever his blade passed, goblins wielding crude wooden clubs wailed and fell.

But Roland discovered a fatal weakness in the young noble's fighting style.

Darko's swordsmanship was indeed exquisite, and his strength far surpassed that of ordinary people, but his movements were too textbook, even a bit rigid, clearly lacking in practical combat experience.

Every angle of his sword swing, every shift of his footwork, seemed to be executed strictly according to a sword manual, lacking any flexibility to adapt to the enemy.

Just as Darko had slain five or six goblins and pushed deep into the enemy ranks, three goblins suddenly attacked from different directions simultaneously.

They coordinated their assault skillfully: one feigned an attack with a wooden club studded with iron nails from the front, while the other two thrust their rusty short spears from the left and right flanks.

Darko hastily drew his sword to block the frontal attack, but the flanking assaults caught him off guard.

Although he managed to dodge, his left arm was still cut open, drawing blood.

"Damn bastards!"

He gritted his teeth and cursed, about to counterattack, when he found five more goblins surrounding them in a semicircle.

They bared their fangs, their eyes glinting with cunning.

At the critical moment, a dark shadow suddenly cut into the battlefield.

"Back off!"

Roland's low shout exploded in his ears.

Darko instinctively took half a step back, and the next second, Roland's sword swept through like a storm.

There were no fancy moves, only the most direct chops and thrusts.

The first sword severed the left wrist of a goblin, the second pierced the throat of a flanking attacker, and the third horizontal slash cut an oncoming enemy in half at the waist.

"That's incredible swordsmanship..."

Darko's eyes widened.

This swordsmanship, born purely for killing, was vastly different from the noble sword techniques he had learned.

Roland didn't pause, his voice deep.

"Stop spacing out! They're surrounding us!"

Only then did Darko notice that the remaining goblins had changed their formation.

They had spread out, some climbing treetops to prepare throwing stones, others flanking to cut off their escape route, and five of the strongest, wielding various crude weapons, were slowly advancing.

"These beasts. They actually understand tactics?"

Darko gripped his sword hilt, cursing in disbelief.

"Keep moving, break through to the rear left!"

As Roland spoke, he suddenly lunged forward, his blade precisely piercing a goblin's eye socket.

"Prioritize those with throwing weapons!"

The two began to spin and move back-to-back.

Darko had learned his lesson this time, no longer pursuing perfect sword forms but imitating Roland's practical combat techniques.

Though a bit unpolished, it was more than enough to deal with the unskilled goblins.

His immense strength, combined with simplified moves, became increasingly deadly, each sword strike cleaving a goblin in half, weapon and all.

Meanwhile, Roland's Lionheart Swordsmanship was displayed to its fullest in the battle.

Every time golden text appeared in his vision, he felt his understanding of Lionheart Swordsmanship deepen another level. The iron sword felt as if it had merged with his arm, easily controlled.

As blood splattered, the battle grew more intense.

When their conventional tactics proved ineffective, the goblins began to charge forward in a frenzy.

"Damn it!"

Cursing, Darko endured the throbbing pain from his arm wound and swung his iron sword with all his might.

However, the continuously seeping blood made his movements slower and slower, making it increasingly difficult to fend off the goblins' fiercer assault.

Roland keenly sensed the young noble's predicament, having to deal with his own enemies while also diverting attention to block fatal attacks for Darko.

The battle, which had initially held the advantage, was now visibly turning.

Just then, a goblin that had been on a tree throwing stones suddenly dropped down, a rusty dagger aimed straight for Darko's nape.

"Above you!"

Roland roared, drawing the dagger from Darko's waist with a backhand motion and throwing it with all his might, precisely piercing the sneak attacker's throat.

Seeing the goblin corpse fall before him, Darko broke out in a cold sweat.

"Thanks, Roland! Your skills are just..."

"Praise later!"

Roland interrupted him, pointing to over a dozen goblins gathered in front of their escape route.

These guys had actually formed a shield wall, with several holding crude wooden shields in front and others behind them thrusting spears through the gaps.

Although the formation was very basic, it was highly effective against enemies like Roland and Darko, who were trapped in a encirclement with fewer numbers.

"We can't let them stabilize their formation!"

Facing this situation, Roland no longer cared about the difference in their status, shouting loudly.

"Darko, stick close to me!"

With that, he suddenly accelerated into a sprint, changing direction sharply just before reaching the shield wall, precisely finding a weakness in their formation.

His longsword swept horizontally from the side, cleaving the outermost goblin in half along with its shield.

Once the gap opened, Darko immediately understood, roaring as he charged into the formation. His iron sword swung like a pinwheel, instantly crushing the goblins in front of him.

Then, his blade turned, precisely piercing the chest of another goblin.

Looking at the writhing green-skinned monster before him, Darko was about to laugh heartily when he saw this dying goblin suddenly let out a shrill shriek, its blood-stained claw gripping the sharp blade tightly and refusing to let go.

"Wh-what?"

Darko was momentarily stunned, instinctively pulling his sword.

In that split second of hesitation, another goblin at his feet, nearly cut in half, used its last bit of ferocity to thrust the short spear in its hand with all its might.

The rusty short spear glinted coldly under the sunlight.

It then deeply embedded itself into Darko's calf, splashing a spray of blood.

"Ah!"

With a shrill cry of pain, Darko endured the agony, beheaded the goblin, and then collapsed to the ground in pain, his forehead instantly covered in a dense sheen of cold sweat.

"Damn it!"

Seeing this, Roland precisely thrust his longsword into the throat of the goblin before him, then turned and forcefully helped Darko up.

"Can you still walk?"

"Barely passable."

"Tsk."

Watching the Goblins pour out of the dense forest endlessly, Roland couldn't help but click his tongue and frown.

Without hesitation, he pulled the Short Spear from Darko's calf and quickly tore off a strip of his own hem.

Taking advantage of the gap before the distant Goblins could close in, he nimbly bandaged Darko's wound, then forcefully pushed him backward.

"Run! Don't look back!"

"But... Roland!"

Darko looked at the thin, retreating figure before him, who was a few years younger than himself, and was momentarily at a loss.

His lips trembled, and he finally gritted his teeth and said, "Forget about me! You escape on your own!"

"Enough nonsense!"

Roland had already taken off his bow and arrows, drawing the string as he shouted.

"Go find the Guards for help!"

Darko wanted to argue, but seeing Roland's resolute gaze, the young Noble could only shout hoarsely, "Roland! You must live to wait for me to return!"

With that, he stumbled and disappeared into the depths of the jungle.

After confirming Darko had safely retreated, Roland let out a long sigh of relief.

If it were anyone else, he would have fled alone the moment the fight began.

After all, aside from his days as a stable boy for his Original Body, he had only known this young Noble for half a day, far from enough to warrant risking his life.

But Darko was Baron Foslin's only son.

If this young Noble met with misfortune, while he himself survived, even with Hawk's protection, he would likely not escape Baron Foslin's wrath.

Of course, Roland didn't actually intend to sacrifice himself to cover the retreat.

In fact, without the burden of Darko slowing him down, these small, green-skinned monsters before him posed no threat whatsoever.

Even if their numbers were truly astonishing.

Gazing at the swarming green tide, Roland closed his eyes and focused.

When he opened them again, the world seemed to fall into slow motion.

[Focus] Trait, activated!