Overlord: Start from the Goblin Lair.

Chapter 2: Hobgoblin Warlord
"Nothing left?" Ron stopped Driver from showing Davin a lesson and asked, "What does that mean?"

"Just now, Daven also said that you are short of water and food..."

"That's exactly what it says," Driver looked at Ron. This human was the savior of his beloved mouse, so he was happy to answer his question. "So the boss said that we should chase some deer to the north. However, when I was exploring the way north, I felt that the further north I went, the colder it got. I've only been walking for two days, so this shouldn't happen."

"I have captured some prisoners before, and they all said that there is a warm and humid plain to the north. But my feeling is completely different from theirs."

Little rain, lack of food, and getting... colder?

Ron seemed to remember something. In the geology elective course that semester, the teacher seemed to have talked about a similar incident. That disaster almost strangled the entire human civilization in its cradle.

If saving the life of the rat could keep him alive for a while, then what if saving the lives of these goblins? Would it buy him his own safety or even... his freedom?
And if they really wanted to go north as Driver said, he would not be able to survive... that would be a real hell of disaster.

Thinking of this, Ron quickly said: "I need to see your boss immediately! You can't go north!"

"Why—" Driver was about to ask, but he simply changed the subject, "Okay! I'll go talk to the boss, you wait here!"

It was useless to ask. Goblin hunters only had talents related to combat, and people like Driver who could speak the common language were considered diligent and studious.

Besides, didn't this human give him the "bitter grass" without explaining anything? Didn't he also save Dabai's life?

Driver was very satisfied with his foolish but intelligent mind, so he turned around and ran away into the corridor. Only the echo of his instructions to Daven was left:
"Daven, take good care of my baby and his savior! Otherwise I will skin you alive!"

"Tsk, you son of a rat!"

Daven spat on the ground angrily.

While waiting for Driver, Ron walked around freely in this prison, animal pen and slaughterhouse. The goblins around him were all impressed by Ron's methods and no one stopped him.

Ron walked towards the prison that was used to hold prisoners.

Except for a person lying on the ground, his life or death unknown, there was no other living person inside.

Needless to say, those unlucky guys must have all been turned into reserve food for Davin's knife.

"Who is this guy?" Ron pointed at the person inside casually. "Looks like a woman?"

"She's just a half-elf," Daven glanced inside, "Why do you care whether she's a man or a woman? They're all meat in my mouth."

"Just curiosity, don't you have any...other thoughts about her?"

Ron's words were rather euphemistic. Mainly influenced by some small software in his previous life, Ron had always wanted to confirm whether goblins, or goblins, would do that kind of thing to the captives.

"Why would I have such thoughts about food?!" Goblins are not stupid, and Daven understood what Ron meant in an instant, "I admit that there are some freaks in our race, but you can't be so stereotyped!" "My Daven's ideal person should be a bear goblin! At least a burly goblin girl - definitely not this thin wooden pole!"

Davin's "declaration" finally opened the goblins' mouths. They started to quarrel in a mess, and gradually showed signs of violence, as if they were going to fight for a certain imaginary "goddess".

The extent of the chaos is evident from this.

At this moment, Driver appeared at the entrance of the tunnel.

"Human, the boss agreed to meet you, come with me - what are you doing?"

"This bastard is insulting our aesthetics!" Daven ran over angrily and kicked Ron in the calf. "Go away! I must decide the outcome with them today: the person I love can only belong to me!"

"Then I wish you success." Ron smiled and followed Driver out.

Goblins are not natural builders and engineers, but they are skilled miners and craftsmen, so they mostly choose existing caves or mines, then repair them and set traps.

On the way to the leader's room here, Ron observed along the way and noted the locations of the traps and alarms nearby.

Empty bottles and cans, spider webs, pits, even rolling stones and removable load-bearing brackets. There is a reason why goblin lairs are always the nightmare of novice adventurers.

And if it really comes to the last resort and Ron needs to risk escaping the nest, remembering the location of these traps may be his last life-saving barbell.

As Ron was observing along the way, Driver reached out and poked him in the waist: "This is it, the boss is waiting for you inside."

"Be careful, there will be no good consequences if you make the boss angry." Perhaps out of gratitude to his benefactor, Driver reminded in a low voice.

When Driver lifted the animal skin used as a door curtain, a stench more pungent than that of a slaughterhouse hit Ron in the face, choking him and making him cough.

This is... too delicious!
But this was a matter of life and death, so even if it was a sea of ​​fire and swords, Ron had to go in.

In this cave, Ron saw the leader of these goblins at a glance - not because he had a strange appearance, but because he was not the same species as the goblins at all.

This "big boss" was about 1.7 meters tall, taller than the average 1.12 meters tall goblins, and half a head shorter than Ron, but much stronger in terms of physique. He had reddish-brown skin and dark red hair. A pair of yellow eyes were embedded under his protruding forehead, and two or three long, pointed yellow teeth bared out of his big mouth. And the most unignorable thing was that he had a big blue nose.

Various features indicated that what was in front of Ron was a hobgoblin.

They are the cousins ​​of the goblins, natural warriors and leaders. They love war and usually enslave goblins or other easily replenished creatures to enrich their armies. They will lead their men to seize resource-rich lands and use them as bases for continuous expansion.

But unfortunately, the luck of this hobgoblin and his goblin army was not very good. If Ron's guess was correct, whether they stayed here or migrated northward, there would be only one ending: turning into ice sculptures in the snowstorm.

(End of this chapter)