Kill Every Goblin

Lance stared at the densely packed data on the panel, and his heart jolted.

So this was the secret of the classed.

A normal healthy adult had 5 points in every attribute. Strength alone required twice that of an ordinary person.

This string of harsh numerical requirements was enough to make ordinary people shrink back.

He calmly looked the boy before him over again.

The kid might look young, but with those two high-level swordsmanship skills alone, if they really fought—

This late-blooming cheater might not necessarily be able to beat him.

It was only because the boy's stamina was limited. If they competed in explosive power, this kid was definitely ruthless.

He was a genius. Lance came to that conclusion.

But soon, the longer he stared at that face, the stronger the sense of familiarity became.

Golden hair... It was Kyle, the young man who had carried a greatsword back then. He had golden hair too.

Lance lowered his voice, deliberately making it sound deep and hoarse.

"Why did you come back from White River City?"

He stared into the boy's eyes and asked slowly.

"I remember that place is the province's commercial center, far more prosperous than Grayrock Town."

"With talent like yours, wouldn't it be better to stay there and develop?"

At those words—

Damian, who had been full of excitement and bright-eyed moments before, suddenly froze.

His hand involuntarily tightened around the hilt at his waist. It was a gift from his brother.

Faced with Lance's question, he fell silent.

After a while, the boy finally spoke.

"Tuition at White River City Swordsmanship Academy costs five gold coins per term."

"If I could study for another year, I might have a chance to pass the assessment and become a swordsman. With the outstanding talent my instructor rated me as having, I'd definitely be chosen by the city's defense knight order."

"Then I'd have a steady salary and a big house, and I could bring my brother over to enjoy a good life."

As Damian spoke, a glimmer of hope shone in his eyes.

But it lasted only a moment before it was completely extinguished, as though drenched in cold water.

But my brother was already gone. The person I needed to strive for was gone.

"My brother... used to be an adventurer here. His name was Kyle."

"Every month, he sent me letters and living expenses on time. In every letter, he wrote about which monster tribe he'd defeated recently, how the guild had paid out a huge reward, and how comfortable his life was."

"He told me not to save money, to buy whatever I wanted to eat. In his letters, he said he was a famous great adventurer in Grayrock Town, that he'd formed an amazing team and was respected in town."

The boy's voice began to tremble.

"Until a week ago... when I came back to collect his belongings."

"All the guild staff gave me was a shriveled, moldy money pouch."

"There were no gold coins inside. Only a dozen or so badly worn copper coins, along with half a piece of unfinished black bread as hard as stone."

Damian gripped his sword hilt tightly.

"Other adventurers found it later, after they wiped out the goblin tribe that killed him. They found it in those beasts' nest."

"Among his belongings was also a letter he wrote to me but never had the chance to send."

"In that letter, he still told me to study hard... He said I was the pride of the family, and that I had to become a noble knight admired by all someday."

The boy's eyes reddened as he looked up at hooded Lance.

"How could I possibly keep studying?!"

"He wasn't some great adventurer at all. He was just a liar who couldn't even bear to buy the most basic protective potion because he was trying to scrape together my tuition!"

"A single bottle of maintenance oil I casually used up while practicing swordsmanship cost as much as half a month's worth of his food."

"Everything I know was built from the bloodstained copper coins he earned by killing goblins one by one."

"Senior, you asked why I came back."

The boy fiercely wiped his face with his sleeve. His swollen red eyes seemed to burn with fire.

"Because I don't want to become some noble knight."

"I just want to be his little brother. I want to take up his wish and become a real great adventurer in his place."

"I want to kill every goblin."

"Senior, can you help me?"

Damian held out his hand to Lance.

Though young, that hand was covered in calluses from sword practice.

Lance looked at it.

He knew full well that if he took that hand, then with this kid's talent and his own system, a future adventuring party renowned across the land might truly begin here. But...

Damian only saw the hooded man, whose face he could not make out, coldly shake his head.

The boy's hand froze in midair, and his eyes instantly filled with crushing disappointment.

"Is it... because I'm still not strong enough?"

Lance did not offer Damian any cheap comfort just because of his tragic circumstances.

If anything, his tone was cold.

"I think you've misunderstood something."

Lance's voice came from beneath the hood, low and stern.

"If I were you, I'd go straight to the counter right now and withdraw that foolish application to recruit a new team."

"Don't think about forming your own party and becoming some captain."

"Find an experienced party that's short on fighters, even if they only let you do manual labor or carry packs."

"Watch how those veterans handle commissions. Learn properly how they sleep in the wilderness, identify water sources, and run for their lives."

"Use that swordsmanship you're so proud of as bargaining chips to trade for the survival experience in those old hands' heads."

Lance stepped forward and looked down at the boy through his hood.

"Someone who only knows how to fight can't become an adventurer. That's just a brute."

"Only by staying alive can you kill more goblins and avenge your brother."

Having said that, Lance gave Damian no chance to argue.

He pulled his hood tighter and turned toward the guild's entrance.

As he walked away, he tossed back a few final words without looking back.

"There are plenty of useless trash just killing time in this guild, but there are also real experts."

"If you don't want to disappoint your brother's hopes—"

"Then first learn how to survive like a cockroach."

"Don't let him die for nothing."

Lance waved, pushed open the doors, and soon disappeared into the crowd on the street.

Damian was left standing there alone.

He blankly watched the direction in which that figure had vanished. Something seemed to have been fiercely stirred within his once-chaotic mind.

Not a single word Lance had said to the boy was false.

The words "stay alive" were not merely advice. They had become the foremost creed etched into his bones since he came to this world.

In this cruel world, only the living had the right to speak of ideals.

Over the past few months behind the guild counter, he had witnessed far too many adventurers' stories.

Some were driven by dreams, some were consumed by greed, and others, like Kyle, bore heavy burdens to protect their loved ones.

But no matter how beautiful their original intentions were, most of them ultimately fell on this thorn-filled road and paid the bitter price of their lives.