Hunting Kobolds

The boring days passed in a flash. On the morning of the fourth day, the oppressive dark clouds that had lingered for half a month finally dispersed, and sunlight once again grudgingly shone upon the land of the Barren Land.

Saint Brieuc Fortress seemed to have regained its vitality. Teams of carriages and horses lined up in long queues, departing to pay tribute to the Duke. Similarly, teams of people arrived, consisting of merchant caravans coming to trade and Mercenary Groups heading to the Ambrisset Mountains for adventure.

Although Saint Brieuc Fortress was merely the most inconspicuous small town in the wilderness, it still attracted every visitor in its own unique way: "A head fee of two copper coins. If you don't want to pay, get lost immediately. These are the orders just issued by the Lord."

Renard was completely unaware of this, as he had already reached his destination – Goblin Camp Number Thirty-Six.

This was a name he had given himself, dividing the goblins into thirty-eight bandit groups based on their strength.

Judging by the ranking, it was clear that this goblin bandit group was on the weaker side, meaning they were easy targets.

When everyone arrived, the sky had just cleared. By human standards, or rather, by commoner standards, it was time to wake up and eat breakfast.

However, goblins didn't have the concept of breakfast. In the cold winter, they struggled to even get a full meal, so they could only resort to sleeping to reduce their stamina loss, hoping that hunger and death would not befall them.

Therefore, when everyone arrived, they saw goblins lying all over the ground, their breathing weak. It was as if even the snores from their sleep would accelerate stamina loss and invite the gaze of the god of death.

The surroundings were utterly silent. Tracy crawled beside Renard, his eyes fixed on the goblin camp, and asked in a low voice, "Young Master, when do we attack?"

Renard had never seen such peculiar creatures before. His mind was still processing, and it took him a while to snap back to reality. He also replied in a low voice, "When do you think is the best time to attack?"

Tracy didn't answer, as he provided the answer with his actions. He stood up, drew the sword at his waist, and shouted, "Annihilate the goblins and restore peace to Saint Brieuc Fortress!"

As soon as his voice fell, several agile figures darted past Renard, charging towards their chosen targets.

Blood splattered. The goblins, immersed in their sleep, were subjected to an unprecedented slaughter.

Renard didn't get up. He carefully observed the changes in the mission data: Killing Mission: Kill one hundred goblins, Reward: one Potential, Completion: twenty-eight percent.

Just as he had guessed, the followers killing mission monsters were also counted towards the mission data.

In less than five minutes, forty-eight goblin heads were severed, and this number continued to increase: fifty-six percent, sixty-two percent, seventy-seven percent...

Renard recovered from his shock and scanned the battlefield. The brutal scene almost made him vomit.

The goblin settlement was already strewn with corpses. The nine henchmen were like tigers among sheep; a single sword strike could take a life. Blood splattered all over them, but they didn't bother to wipe it off, rushing to their next target.

Rielly, who used to look cute, now appeared like a madman, muttering as he killed, "Twenty-four copper coins, twenty-six copper coins, twenty-eight copper coins..."

Renard had promised to pay two copper coins for each goblin killed. This meant that in less than ten minutes, Rielly had decapitated fourteen goblins.

Renard watched in horror, feeling as if he didn't recognize these people. He muttered inwardly: Money is the root of all evil.

He took several deep breaths, trying to suppress the fear in his heart, but it felt like the smell of the sea. He knew very well that it was the scent of blood.

His head began to spin. "Damn it, I'm prone to fainting from blood."

With that, he collapsed onto the ground, unconscious.

Renard was, of course, faking it. His goal was to hide his trembling legs. After all, he was a young man from the 21st century who had never witnessed such a bloody scene. Not fainting on the spot was already a testament to his strong nerves.

However, he couldn't show his cowardice in front of his subordinates, so he could only lie his way out of the difficult situation.

As he fell, he turned his face towards the battlefield, one eye half-open, watching the unfolding events.

As it turned out, his worries were completely unnecessary. The more than three hundred goblins were simply being slaughtered. Faced with sharp swords, they could only wail and flee, with very few daring to resist.

Even if they did resist, they were often cut down the moment they raised their clubs.

After more than twenty minutes, the goblins were dead, fleeing, or hiding. The brutal slaughter finally ended.

The henchmen, covered in blood, checked the battlefield. If they encountered anyone still alive, they would deliver a few more blows.

Seeing this, Renard sighed inwardly and said, "Why must we be so cruel to each other!"

Even now, the henchmen hadn't noticed the fallen Renard. They were still calculating the spoils and how many copper coins they could exchange them for.

Renard coughed awkwardly twice and quickly got up from the ground, raising his sword and striking what he thought was a cool pose.

However, no one noticed him. The atmosphere around them was extremely awkward.

Fortunately, he was shameless. Seeing that no one was paying attention to him, he casually entered the System to check his mission progress. He was startled by what he saw.

"Ding! Killing Mission completed: Kill one hundred goblins. Reward: one Potential. Completion: two hundred and forty-six percent."

"Ding! Mission completed with excess. Reward: one random attribute."

Random attribute? Renard's heart skipped a beat, and he quickly opened his attribute interface.

"Host attributes: Strength: Seven, Agility: Seven, Intelligence: Five, Charisma: Five, Potential: One, Unassigned Skill Points: Two."

"Host Strength-based skill levels: Iron Bones: Three, Strong Attack: Two, Precision: Two."

"Host Agility-based skill levels: Riding Skill: Zero, Martial Arts: Three, Control: Three."

"Host Intelligence-based skill levels: Battle Qi Usage: Zero, Eidetic Memory: Five, Tactical Command: Zero."

"Host Charisma-based skill levels: Command: Two, Valor: Two, Near Death: One."

He examined it carefully for a long time and found that he had indeed gained an additional point in Agility. This was equivalent to him completing two killing missions at once.

Renard pondered for a long time. It seemed he needed to take this excess reward seriously.

Thinking this, he added the Potential to Strength, and allocated the Skill Points to the Strength-based Strong Attack and the Agility-based Control. He then exited the System.

He clenched his fists and jumped in place, feeling full of energy.

The henchmen finished calculating the spoils and came to Renard's side to claim their rewards.

Ben, whose strength was the greatest and movements the fastest, ran to Renard's side. He forcefully jammed his longsword into the ground and deliberately panted, saying, "Young master, I've slain a full sixty-four kobolds."

Immediately after, the other lackeys reported their kills: "I slew thirty-two."

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