Treatment (Part 1)

The three of them had not been fully clear-headed just now. Since the other side had come at them, it naturally meant the other side's overall fighting strength was greater. Only now did they have time to think carefully. Though they still had not figured out the basic situation, a stifling gloom had already settled in their hearts.

On one hand, they were unwilling to be robbed on the road by this band of goblins and lose today's hunted game along with the supplies they carried. On the other, they wanted to vent their anger. After only a few words, the three of them turned back directly.

A short while later, the three took a roundabout route back near the town where they had temporarily camped.

Normally, if they were raiding a goblin gathering place, they would have to guard against traps. Using long weapons to probe the way was the best choice, but since the three had only left a few minutes ago, there was no need for that now.

In that brief span of time, the campfire at their crude campsite had already gone out.

"Good. Some of them are still here." Fafier's eyes were sharp as a thief's. Even without firelight, he was unconcerned, making gestures to tell his companions.

The three secretly let out a breath of relief. They had been somewhat afraid that the others would snatch everything and swiftly withdraw. If that happened, they could only choose between heading back immediately and attacking the goblin nest.

The three adventurers slowly drew closer, exchanged glances, and then Romon began counting down with hand signals.

"Three!"

"Two!"

"One!"

"Kill!" Nick growled. Sword in hand, he charged out first. The goblins not far away, who had been sorting through their things, were instantly startled and began shouting in disorder. Once they saw Nick clearly, terror immediately appeared on their faces.

Clearly, although it was still night, goblin eyesight was unlike human eyesight. They could still see clearly in the darkness. Thus, the goblin meat shield tied to Nick's hand truly frightened them badly.

Romon and Fafier also followed, weapons in hand.

Not long after the close-quarters clash began, there were no goblins left standing within sight.

"So weak." Nick complained. Evidently, the enemy's weakness made their earlier retreat feel even more like a stain on his life.

Romon was busy finishing them off and cutting scalps, ignoring him.

"Hehe." Fafier chuckled. He picked up several throwing spears from the ground and asked Romon, "How many are lying on the ground?"

"Not bad, the numbers are about right. There are over a dozen in total, but a few probably escaped." After Romon finished delivering killing blows to every goblin he could find on the ground, he weighed the small cloth pouch in his hand. Eight bloody scalps lay inside. He sighed. "Let's count what things are left. After goblins have gone through them, it really is too horrible to look at."

"My bow is still here, but I can't find any of the arrows." Fafier rummaged through the collapsed tent for a while, frowning. His bow was a shortbow, but it was still not something goblins could use with their build. The arrowheads, however, were sharp iron tools. Who knew what those disgusting goblins' filthy hands had done to them?

"What rotten luck. Maybe all our meat has been fouled." Nick squatted on the ground, his burly body curled into a ball as he complained gloomily.

"That's not a problem. At worst, we can wash it clean and sell it to Aunt Heather's inn." Fafier said, then sighed. "What a pity we didn't get to eat more of it."

"With the way you eat?" Romon searched through the goblin corpses. "And you still want to eat more?" He found a cloth pouch and opened it. It was full of iron arrowheads. "Found them!" He called to Fafier. "Your arrowheads."

Fafier took it and frowned. "Why have they all been snapped off?"

"Maybe they planned to attach them to wooden sticks and make throwing spears too." Romon shrugged. "Who knows what those little things are thinking?"

"Mm, let's pack our things." Fafier began tidying up as well and asked Romon, "If we set out now, roughly when can we get back to town?"

"It's not good to leave now. Before dawn, it'll get especially dark." Romon calculated the time. "We'll probably arrive just as the town opens in the morning!"

"It doesn't matter if it's dark." Fafier packed their things. "I still want to get back to town sooner and sleep well." Before long, he suddenly found something strange. "Nick! Don't just sit there. Come help pack up too!"

"He couldn't have fallen asleep from exhaustion, could he?" Romon also found it strange.

Fafier walked over and reached out to push him. "Nick, Nick?"

Then Nick's crouching body went limp and collapsed onto the ground.

Originally... everything had been going fairly well.

Romon had invited his friends Fafier and Nick out on an adventure. Since the three had prepared thoroughly, they soon hunted two elk. Though they encountered a goblin night raid and road robbery that evening, the three had worked together to kill them all. Once they returned to town, the three would receive a reward of more than fifty silver coins. That was already quite good.

But very soon, in no more than a few spoken sentences, the originally favorable situation took a sharp turn for the worse.

After Nick collapsed once again that day, no matter how poor Fafier and Romon's judgment was, they knew something was terribly wrong with him.

"What's happening?" Fafier was extremely anxious when he saw his friend's pain. "What should we do?"

"We'll return to town and find a priest." Romon held his forehead. He had a headache too. The moment he thought of what it would look like when they carried Nick back to town, he felt deeply frustrated.

The town had only seven or eight hundred residents in all. At the slightest rustle of wind or swaying of grass, everyone would know within half an hour. Yesterday, three lively young men had gone out adventuring together. A day later, two would be carrying one wounded man back. It would be hard to persuade anyone else to join them on adventures afterward.

No, they should not go back to town for a priest. Romon weighed it over and over, then changed his words. "We're in the forest now. Let's find a Druid."

He searched for a reason. "Nick's condition is very bad. The sooner he receives treatment, the better."

"Right! Romon, you know Master Jefa." Fafier strongly agreed after hearing that. Druid healing was quite good as well. "Let's go find Master Jefa."

The two made a stretcher and, under Romon's guidance, headed toward the Druid's hut in the forest.

Although the Druid Jefa also had a residence in town, he preferred living in the forest among plants. Still, he might stay near the goddess's altar in order to teach new Druids.

Because the hut was in the shallow part of the forest and very close to town, even if they could not find the Druid at the forest hut, the three could simply continue back to town without taking much of a detour.

However, Romon's luck was fairly good.

Very soon, they arrived near Master Jefa's hut. It was a fine place, and the surroundings carried a natural aura that made Romon feel comfortable.

"Dark!" Near the hut, Romon encountered the dire wolf raised by Master Jefa. Romon turned to Fafier and said, "Dark is my teacher's beloved dog. Since he's here, my teacher must be here too!"

"Mm! Mm!" Fafier answered with difficulty. Looking at Dark made him somewhat afraid. Although it had a name that sounded very gentle, its appearance was anything but tame.

It was a large dog, an enormous black dog, as big as a small calf. Its short black fur gleamed with oil, while the muscles beneath its hide bulged in solid blocks, clearly showing that it had been well cared for. Most striking of all was its pair of black, bright eyes, lively and spirited, as if they could speak.

"Fafier, put the stretcher down first." Romon spoke as he crouched.

Fafier had no choice but to crouch as well. Otherwise, the wounded man lying on the stretcher would fall off.

"Dark." Romon said while crouching. "I need to see my teacher now. Can you let me pass?"

Romon's voice was as steady as usual, but to Fafier, that tone was nearly solemn. He suddenly felt as though his head hurt a little.

"Druids spend too much time with animals and plants. Sure enough... mm, they really are strange." Fafier frowned, finding it difficult to understand a situation like this.

Fafier patiently watched Romon communicate with the big black dog called Dark for a while. He was faintly growing impatient, so he could only try to tend to his old companion on the stretcher and ease some of his anxiety.

"We can go through now." Only after waiting a good while did Romon turn and tell him.

At someone else's place, it was normal to announce oneself first. But doing so through a big dog... Fafier curled his lip, feeling exceedingly strange and unable to help feeling secretly embarrassed.

The two lifted the stretcher and followed the big dog. They had barely taken a few steps when Fafier could no longer restrain his curiosity. He leaned forward slightly, lowered his voice, and wanted to ask something, but after a second thought, swallowed the words back down.

They traveled in silence. After a while, Fafier saw a clearing amid the dense forest. How beautiful! he praised inwardly.

"We're almost there!" Romon said. At last, he felt at ease. If they encountered another attack along the way, they would be in deep trouble.

In the heart of the dense forest, the trees stood sparse and scattered. Amid those thinly spaced trees was a small wooden hut. A stream rushed onward, flowing across the riverbed before the house. Dawn light passed through the thick leaves atop the trees, casting mottled patches of light diagonally over the ground.

Fafier felt that he could vaguely see a figure before the house, a figure difficult to distinguish amid the mottled green background.

The big dog Dark's little steps gradually quickened. It ran faster and faster, leaped over the stream, and crouched directly at the Druid's feet.

After the two approached, they carefully set down the stretcher.

"Teacher!" Romon nervously bowed, looking extremely respectful. This was the first time he had truly seen this middle-aged Druid. Before this, apart from learning a few simple impressions through his memories, Romon had no source of information about him. No, he seemed to have seen him in an illusory dream as well.

Romon still vaguely remembered that it did not seem to have been a good dream. It might even have been a nightmare.

But it had only been a dream, a fantasy in his heart.

!!