Hidden Loophole

The next day, everyone set off on their journey again.

Today, they had to venture another two kilometers into the wilderness to clear out Goblin Camp Twelve, a very large goblin settlement with over two thousand members.

According to Tommy's description, goblins were weaker fighters than kobolds, so the difficulty of this mission wasn't high.

However, the wilderness was always full of surprises. As they neared their target, Ben, who was scouting ahead, suddenly stopped and signaled for everyone to get low. He then cupped his ear and said, "It sounds like there's a fight up ahead."

Renard also pricked up his ears, but he couldn't hear anything. Still, he believed Ben wouldn't lie to him. "Who's fighting whom? Is it a large-scale battle?"

Ben frowned and listened for a long while, then said uncertainly, "I hear human voices and goblin voices. The scale of the battle isn't small. If I'm guessing correctly, it must be some merchant caravan that's run into trouble."

Renard's eyes lit up. "Shall we go take a look?"

The others didn't object, so they all crouched down and, using the tall grass as cover, climbed up a nearby hill.

The hill wasn't high, but the view was excellent. They could clearly see the battlefield.

It was indeed a sizable merchant caravan, with over twenty large wagons. The guards and drivers numbered more than forty people combined, but their situation looked dire.

The caravan had already formed a defensive circle, using the wagons as cover against the attackers. The attackers, naturally, were goblins, notorious for their cowardice and weakness.

After clearly assessing the situation, Renard's scalp tingled. The area around the wagons was teeming with goblins, easily over a thousand of them.

"That merchant caravan is finished," Ryan sighed softly, his tone devoid of pity, even carrying a hint of mockery. "Stingy merchants who want to earn gold by crossing dangerous wilderness but are unwilling to hire enough guards deserve such an end."

Renard knew why Ryan was gloating. Ryan's father was a mercenary, or rather, an unsuccessful mercenary.

"Young master, should we do something?" Austin, who had always been taciturn, suddenly asked.

Before Renard could answer, Ryan spoke first. "Austin, is your chivalry acting up again?"

Austin Gray could be considered Renard's most trusted subordinate, and the most upright among the nine.

His great-grandfather had also been a Follower of His Majesty Rochelle and a core member of the Knights of the Lionheart. Therefore, he had received a proper knightly education from childhood: humility, honor, sacrifice, valor, mercy, honesty, justice, and soul.

Of course, since becoming Renard's lackey, most of these virtues had been cast aside.

Renard actually didn't want to get involved. After all, the sheer number of goblins, thousands of them, was too overwhelming.

However, he didn't want to miss such a good opportunity. Yes, a good opportunity to make money.

After a long internal struggle, he suddenly stood up and shouted, raising his sword, "Slay the goblins and bring peace back to Saint Brieuc Fortress!"

With that, he took small, slow steps and charged towards the battlefield.

If nothing unexpected happened, by the time he reached the battlefield, the merchant caravan's personnel would already be cold corpses.

The eyes of his followers twitched. They were clearly taken aback by his chuunibyou tendencies.

However, their actions were swift. Within three steps, they had surpassed Renard, drawing their bows and nocking arrows. The whistling of arrows filled the air, followed by bursts of blood.

The goblins surrounding the wagons were thrown into disarray. It took them a while to react before they let out war cries and charged towards the hill.

The followers, positioned on higher ground, continued to rain down arrows. A single arrow could take down two or three goblins.

Yes, two or three. The sharp arrows often pierced the goblins' slender bodies, inflicting considerable damage on the opportunistic ones hiding behind.

"Ding! Kill mission completed: Killed one hundred goblins. Reward: one Potential. Completion: 156%."

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

In just three minutes, the goblin-slaying mission was successfully completed, and the goblins had successfully charged up the hill, engaging in close-quarters combat with the followers.

"Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen..." "Twenty-four copper coins, twenty-six copper coins. Twenty-eight copper coins..."

Heads rolled, and limbs flew. Facing a hellish scene, even the most fervent battle spirit would be drowned in blood.

Although the goblins' minds were foolish enough, they knew they had encountered an irresistible opponent. Their charge quickly turned into a rout.

However, the followers' slaughter did not stop. They didn't care about any so-called "peace for Saint Brieuc Fortress"; their eyes were fixed on the most direct thing—profit.

"Ding! Kill mission completed: Killed two hundred goblins. Reward: one Potential. Completion: 154%."

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

"Ding! Kill mission completed: Killed three hundred goblins. Reward: one Potential. Completion: 149%."

No excess reward? Was there an additional reward only if completion reached 50%?

Renard stroked his chin, smiling happily, even wildly. It seemed he had discovered another bug.

Then he thought of another question: if the completion reached 200%, or even 300%, would the rewards change?

These were things he needed to verify one by one, and he wouldn't dwell on them for now.

Goblins were less intelligent than kobolds, so they didn't employ tactics or strategies when fighting. They swarmed when attacking and fled in a horde when retreating.

In less than ten minutes, the originally dense crowd of ugly creatures had completely vanished.

However, when Renard led his men to the perimeter of the merchant caravan, they were met not with tearful gratitude, but with gleaming blades.

"Halt! Who are you?" The caravan guards drew their bows, their eyes as vigilant as before.

Seeing this, the followers quickly moved to shield Renard. Although arrows could still inflict irreparable damage on them, their loyalty compelled them to do so.

Tommy and Austin also aimed their arrows at the guard. Tommy spoke sternly, "Slowly lower your weapons. Don't make me think you have any ill intentions, or I will absolutely shoot through your chest."

He then added, "Believe me, I have the skill."

Although the merchant caravan's guards were burly and imposing, anyone with discerning eyes could tell it was all for show.

"Poverty breeds literature, wealth breeds martial arts." The poor and lowly lacked the ability and wealth to learn Martial Arts, so they could only rely on flexing their muscles to intimidate enemies. If a real fight broke out, their burly physiques would only hinder their combat effectiveness.

Cold sweat slowly beaded on the guard's forehead; it was clear he feared death.

After a long standoff, a merchant trembled as he stepped out from the crowd and asked, "You aren't enemies, are you?"

Renard also stepped forward, his face full of righteous indignation, and said, "Of course not."

If you find this book to your liking, remember to add it to your bookshelf so you can find it again next time.