The Kobold Tribe's Counterattack

Ten kilometers northwest of Crouching Dragon Ravine, on the edge of the Gloomy Forest, lies a valley five times the size of a football field where a group of monsters with dog-like heads and human bodies are bustling about in a state of frantic activity.

These monsters are Kobold, a species frequently seen across the continent and often synonymous with weakness due to their slight frames.

However, it would be a grave mistake to underestimate them, for these seemingly frail Kobold possess the genes of dragons within their bloodlines; while extremely rare, these traces are undeniably present.

Coupled with a reproductive capacity that rivals their closest kin, the sheer size of their population ensures that no small number of them are capable of awakening this draconic bloodline.

Those who successfully awaken their draconic bloodline evolve into various classes depending on their specific abilities—such as mages, warriors, or later, warlocks—granting them power far superior to other races thanks to the blood of the most formidable creatures in existence.

This is precisely why the Kobold have managed to endure and thrive on the continent for so long.

Yet, this particular tribe, boasting a population of over five thousand, is currently facing a dire crisis. Personnel movements are constant, and even the elders, who usually ignore tribal affairs to focus solely on excavating the power within their own blood, have emerged.

"What happened? Did the Goblin attack?"

Bill asked with a frown. As a mage who had just been interrupted from his meditation and entered the tribal hall, he was unaware of the events that had transpired over the past period.

"No, it is worse than that."

Bambu, the leader of this Kobold tribe, spoke with a grave expression. He had held his position for eleven years and was himself a bloodline awakener. Unlike the other elders, he had inherited the traits of the even rarer Red Dragon, a fact that earned him the deep respect of a tribe that worshipped martial strength.

"Four months ago, a group of humans arrived in the south. They began erecting houses and building a home. According to the reports from the Kobold we sent out, there is a human among them as strong as I am, along with a significant number of soldiers."

"They possess considerable martial power. To avoid trouble, our hunting parties have specifically steered clear of their territory to prevent any conflict or friction."

"What does this have to do with our tribe's current situation?"

Bill the Kobold did not understand the purpose of the leader's explanation.

Bambu ignored the interruption and continued his account.

"However, just yesterday, our hunters discovered a large number of magical beasts fleeing in a panic from the south, crossing our hunting grounds to head deeper into the Gloomy Forest."

"When our scouts went to investigate, they found a large force of humans to the east and a massive swarm of Goblin to the west, both clearing out the magical beasts as they advanced toward us. Based on their speed, they will reach us by this afternoon at the latest."

"Ah, this... have those green-skins joined forces with the humans? Our strength won't be enough to hold them off."

"Exactly. When it was just the Goblin, we were evenly matched, but now with a group of humans added to the mix, it will be very difficult to resist."

Bambu's words caused an uproar among the elders below. The mid-level members of the tribe, however, remained calm; as the tribe's combatants, they were well aware of these developments, though they still lowered their heads to contemplate a strategy.

"Quiet! Quiet! If any of you have a good idea, speak it now in front of everyone."

"We must strike first."

Farley, an old Kobold leaning on a staff, stepped forward. He was the tribe's sage, the equivalent of a strategist among wolves, and was recognized as the wisest among them; even the powerful leader deferred to him.

"Our Greenvine Tribe has lived here for nearly three hundred years, with our own hunting grounds and our own water sources."

"We live on the edge of the Gloomy Forest. If we migrate because of the human threat, where can we go? Deeper into the Gloomy Forest? Or across the Endless Sea?"

"Three hundred years ago, it was because of humans that we were forced to migrate here. We dwindled from a massive tribe of ten thousand to a small group of two or three hundred. Now that we have finally recovered half of our former glory through rest and recuperation, must we flee again?"

"The depths of the Gloomy Forest hold magical beasts far more terrifying than humans, and the consequences of migrating there would be no better than the last time. As for the Endless Sea, it is full of the unknown; no one knows what lies within."

"Therefore, we must stay here and fight to the death against those who invade our home to win our survival."

Bambu and the mid-to-high-ranking Kobold listened intently. Under Farley's step-by-step analysis, they realized that the only path left was to engage the human-Goblin coalition head-on; only by driving them away could they earn a chance to breathe.

They were fighting for their very survival.

"The strength of those filthy Goblin and cunning humans far exceeds our own. If we face them in a direct confrontation, our chances of victory are near zero. We must approach this from another angle."

Though Farley was frail and aged, his aura was no less imposing than the others, and his powerful magic lent great weight to his words.

"Leader, do we not have a powerful neighbor? We could attempt to lure it and draw it toward the human and Goblin sweep, dealing them a heavy blow."

"A neighbor?"

Bambu pondered this, and suddenly, a memory of something ominous surfaced, filling his face with dread.

"Are you talking about the Granite Golem near the mine? That monster with Platinum-tier strength?"

A Granite Golem is the evolution of an Earth Golem. After long ages, an Earth Golem consumes ores and absorbs the power of the earth, gradually forming a rock-like shell to become a Rock Golem. Then, after a long period of slumber and feeding, it becomes a Granite Golem.

Initially, an Earth Golem is small, usually the size of an average human male, and possesses a spell that slows enemies. By the time it becomes a Rock Golem, its black-yellow earthen body turns a stark white, and it grows into a behemoth four or five meters tall.

At this stage, its slowing skill evolves into a rock throw, where it uses its magic to condense a massive boulder, dealing damage while inflicting a forced stun. Furthermore, its rocky body grants it immunity to magic.

Once it evolves into a Granite Golem, its white stone body turns a deep purple, and it grows into a ten-meter-tall giant. In addition to the rock throw and magic immunity inherited from its previous form, it learns 'Thunderclap,' using its heavy body to slam the ground, slowing and damaging all surrounding enemies.

The Kobold had discovered the Granite Golem a long time ago. A hundred years ago, when they first found the mine, they mistook it for ordinary granite and began mining it. After a deafening roar, the safe mining tunnel was smashed to pieces, and the two hundred Kobold miners trapped inside were all killed.

Following an investigation, the tribe finally discovered the behemoth. After comparing their strength, the Kobold abandoned that section of the mine and moved to another area, and the Granite Golem remained there ever since.

In the history of the tribe, there had been three other incidents where the Granite Golem had awakened and harmed others. The leader's fear was rooted in the fact that he had personally witnessed one of these events as a child, leaving him with deep psychological trauma.

"Exactly."

Farley's words brought Bambu back to the presence of that behemoth, the deep purple stone filling him with terror.

"The Granite Golem possesses Platinum-tier strength, but according to our records, it is not fast. Because of its cumbersome body, its speed is inferior even to an average Gold-tier human. If the leader is willing to risk his life, our tribe might just survive this."

Farley the sage spoke bluntly. For the entire tribe, only the leader, with his Gold-tier strength, was qualified to lure the Granite Golem; no other Kobold mage or soldier could possibly outrun it.

Bambu fell into a struggle. To him, the Granite Golem was not only a Platinum-tier powerhouse a full rank above him, but also the nightmare of his inner soul.

Asking him to lure the Granite Golem was like asking someone bitten by a snake as a child to become a snake handler, or asking someone with thalassophobia to dive into the ocean to save a life.

This is very difficult, very difficult indeed.

However, if Bambu does not go, the greatest possibility for the Kobold tribe is total annihilation. At most, a small portion of the elders and the chieftain might survive by relying on their strength, but the fate of the majority of ordinary Kobolds would be death or enslavement by humans, sold into some pitch-black mine to toil until they perish.

"I will go."

Bambu, the Kobold chieftain, made his decision. With time pressing, he no longer had the luxury of deep contemplation.

He did not need to go, yet he went.

If one has no attachments, how can one dare to gamble their life for tomorrow?

Although Kobolds look different from humans, they are just as flesh and blood, possessing their own independent emotions, their own sense of duty and responsibility.

Under the gaze of most of the Kobolds, Bambu arrived at the mine with only a small number of guards. The Kobolds did not know what their chieftain intended to do, but they knew they had to prepare for battle.

Just as the humans and Goblins were striving to sweep through the forest to secure room for their race's development, the Kobold mine welcomed a team that had resolved to face death without fear.

"Not bad, this thing is delicious."

At this moment, Lin Lei was off his horse, eating the fruit of an unknown tree nearby. Based on his observations, he was certain the fruit was not highly toxic, so he had tried eating one.

To his surprise, it was so delicious that he felt like he might swallow his own tongue.

A full tree's worth of fifty or sixty fruits had all ended up in his stomach. Not only that, he ordered the surrounding soldiers to mark the tree so that when this sweep was over, it could be transplanted into his castle.