By the numbers the lackeys reported, they had killed more than three hundred and sixty kobolds. Yet Renard's system clearly showed the number 246. It was obvious who was lying.
But he didn't call them out. Greed might be a cardinal sin, but it was also a virtue ordinary people ought to possess.
He pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. Only half an hour had passed. He had expected an evenly matched battle, but they had won with surprising ease.
Renard put away his watch, feeling thoroughly unimpressed. He was about to announce their withdrawal when he suddenly realized the kobold-hunting quest hadn't disappeared.
"Kill Quest: Kill 200 kobolds. Reward: 1 Potential. Completion: 0%."
The quest difficulty had increased? He hadn't anticipated that. His expression showed mild surprise as he looked over the nine lackeys and asked, "Should we keep going?"
The men exchanged glances. Ben finally stepped forward, wiping the still-wet blood from his face as he asked, "Still two copper coins per head?"
"Of course." Renard gave an unmistakably affirmative look and generously pulled eight silver coins from his purse. He added, "But I want the real number this time. At least don't make it too far off."
The kobold tribe had fewer than three hundred members, yet they claimed to have taken three hundred and sixty heads. It was absurd.
"I'll let you be greedy, but learn when to stop." Renard handed Ben the silver coins, then brushed the dirt from his clothes and headed straight for their next target.
The lackeys exchanged knowing smiles. It was a test between the two sides, and now they knew how much they could claim for their next tally.
Renard's next target was Kobold Camp No. 32, which was far stronger than the previous one, with more than four hundred kobolds.
Yet the battle was still a one-sided slaughter. The lackeys worked together with practiced ease, cutting down their opponents and sending them fleeing in disarray.
They slaughtered their way from the southern end of the camp to the north, then back south again. Blood spurted and bodies littered the ground. The kobolds who had survived by sheer luck had no time to escape before the second wave of killing swept over them.
Compared with the kobolds howling and fleeing in every direction, their companions who had been beheaded in their sleep were incredibly lucky. They had slipped into eternal rest without feeling any pain.
Next came Kobold Camp No. 30, then Kobold Camp No. 26...
The group was like a bulldozer running at full throttle, leaving almost every kobold camp within a ten-mile radius wiped out.
Once the quest was over, Saint Brieuc Fortress would likely enjoy a long stretch of peace.
The difficulty of the kobold-hunting quest kept increasing: from one hundred to two hundred, then from two hundred to three hundred, and finally to five hundred, at which point it entered its cooldown phase.
In other words, they had killed at least fifteen hundred kobolds in a single day. And since they had exceeded the requirements on the first two quests, the actual number could only be higher.
Each man had killed nearly two hundred kobolds on average. With so much blood on their hands, would they be condemned to hell after death?
Of course, that was a problem for after they died. For all they knew, hell might not even exist.
At dusk, Kobold Camp No. 26 was wiped out. After Tommy reported their results, he glanced at the sky and reminded Renard, "Young master, it's getting late. We should head back."
The dark red sun was about to disappear behind the mountains. An oppressive silence settled over the wasteland after the fighting.
Today's battle had been thrilling, and they'd gained a lot, but everyone was exhausted. Austin grinned. "Maybe we can make it back to Saint Brieuc Fortress before nightfall and enjoy a hot bath and some company."
They all exchanged knowing smiles, their expressions exceedingly lecherous.
But Renard's reply made their right eyelids twitch. "What's the rush? We still have plenty of prey to deal with."
Although the kobold-hunting quest had entered its cooldown phase, he still had quests to hunt goblins, hunt more goblins, and so on.
Tommy swallowed and stammered, "Young master, spending the night outdoors is extremely dangerous. We..."
Before he could finish, Renard raised a hand to cut him off. "Enough. Are you afraid, or are you unwilling to serve me? Did you bring tents and sleeping bags just to carry extra weight?"
His words left the lackeys with no way out. Fern hurried to step forward and pledge his loyalty. "Your will is the direction in which I march."
Renard patted him on the shoulder in satisfaction, then raised an eyebrow at the other lackeys. "And you?"
Tommy and the others grimaced inwardly, then echoed him reluctantly. "Your will is the direction in which we march."
Renard's smile grew brighter. "That's more like it. This is only a warm-up. Don't you want to earn more money?"
Money or comfort? It was a very difficult choice, but greed drove the lackeys to choose the former.
At midnight, they set up camp beside a stream. Everyone except Renard jumped into the cold water for a bath and changed into fresh clothes.
Renard spread the map out on a sheet of paper and scribbled on it with a quill. In the end, he circled four of the larger goblin camps.
When he was done, he rolled up the map, tucked it into his backpack, and lazily crawled into the sleeping bag in his tent to review the day's gains.
"Host attributes: Strength: 8, Agility: 7, Intelligence: 5, Charisma: 6, Potential: 4, Unallocated Skill Points: 5." "Host's Strength skills: Iron Bones: 3, Strong Attack: 3, Precision: 2." "Host's Agility skills: Riding Skill: 0, Martial Arts: 3, Control: 4." "Host's Intelligence skills: Battle Qi Usage: 0, Eidetic Memory: 5, Tactical Command: 0." "Host's Charisma skills: Leadership: 2, Bravery: 2, Near Death: 1."
He had completed five kobold-hunting quests, two of them beyond the required target. They had rewarded him with two random attribute points. One had gone into Charisma, which was utterly useless, but at least the other had gone into Agility, making him feel a little better.
Renard was a pragmatist. He put all his Potential into Strength and Agility. Improving his own abilities was what mattered now, at least until he defeated Gilbert.
He put the two Strength skill points into Iron Bones and Precision, the two Agility skill points into Martial Arts, and the one Charisma skill point into Near Death.
"Host attributes: Strength: 10, Agility: 9, Intelligence: 5, Charisma: 6, Potential: 0, Unallocated Skill Points: 0." "Host's Strength skills: Iron Bones: 4, Strong Attack: 3, Precision: 3." "Host's Agility skills: Riding Skill: 0, Martial Arts: 5, Control: 4." "Host's Intelligence skills: Battle Qi Usage: 0, Eidetic Memory: 5, Tactical Command: 0." "Host's Charisma skills: Leadership: 2, Bravery: 2, Near Death: 2."
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