Goblin Heavy Dependence

Chapter 382 A Passing Adventurer

The setting sun cast a dark, deathly light that seeped through the window cracks, making the already dim room even more oppressive.

The so-called "floor" was the hardened earth that had been trampled on. In the driest spot by the wall was a crooked wooden shelf with several earthenware bowls and jars that showed obvious signs of repair. The rusty iron pot hanging above the hearth was the most valuable possession in the whole house.

Dinner had just ended, and the aroma of food still lingered in the air.

But the family reunion, which should have been a joyous occasion, was instead filled with silence.

No one speaks.

The father sat alone at the rough wooden table in the center of the room, his head bowed, as if he were carving something, making a rustling sound, his brows furrowed.

The elder brother huddled in the corner of the room, sharpening the wood-chopping knife in his hand again and again, yet still repeating the same actions over and over.
The mother stood in front of the wooden shelf, absentmindedly wiping a ceramic cup that was already clean, her eyes occasionally glancing at the people in the room, showing that she was preoccupied.

Finally, unable to bear the oppressive silence in the room any longer.

"Boom!"

Colin slammed the bowl of bean soup he was holding onto the table, jumped up, and blushed with excitement on his still slightly round face. He took a deep breath.

"I made a decision!"

"I won't leave until the goblin problem near the village is resolved!"

The mother's rough hands, which were wiping the cup, paused involuntarily. Even though she had expected it, her face turned pale.
"What nonsense are you talking about!"

"You were always talking about going out to make your way in the world, becoming an adventurer. Now that we've agreed and won't stop you anymore... you, you want to stay? Just for those green-skinned beasts!?"

Her tone was unusually agitated, and her words even carried a hint of harshness rarely seen in the past.

But anyone who knows her can sense the intense pleading in her words in a stark contrast.

“Mother, Uncle John said… these things have been appearing more and more often lately, and they’ve even started wandering around the forest in groups.”

Colin's intense emotions caused him to stutter when he spoke.

"How could I possibly leave you all at a time like this?"

Hearing this, the father, who had been sitting across the table and remained silent the whole time, finally raised his head, his voice low and rumbling like a stone:
"The Wilson boy from the east, the one who herds sheep, has been missing for two days. His family tells everyone he's just lost and will be back soon, but the wounds on the sheep don't lie."

"Colin, my youngest son, even if you really stay... what can you do?"

"Why don't you use your little body to test how sharp those green-skinned beasts' claws are, or scare them away with those wooden arrows you've whittled?"

“I can help!” The father’s words stung the boy’s cheeks, but he still straightened his neck. “The patrol team needs manpower. I can stand guard and keep watch! Even if it’s just following Uncle John around and helping out, that’s fine.”

"No matter what, staying at home is better than leaving and having to live in fear and search for news about the village everywhere!"

"I'd rather you live in fear than stay here and die!" The mother's voice even trembled with tears as she stepped forward and tightly grasped Colin's hand. "Colin, listen to your mother, let's go while the road out is still safe!"

“You’ve always wanted to go to the Southern Islands to find your Uncle Paddy, right? Mom agrees. Just like you thought, it’s good to visit the Adventurers’ Guild. Your brother is here, and there are so many adults like us. You’ll be fine.”

At this point, Colin stood stubbornly in place, not refuting his mother's advice, but still expressing his attitude through silence.

His older brother, who was huddled in the corner of the room sharpening a wood-chopping knife, stopped what he was doing.

"Colin, impulsiveness won't solve anything."

"You should know quite a bit about the current situation in the village from your time with Uncle John."

"Whether you're here or not makes absolutely no difference."

“Listen to your mother, head south and stay with your uncle for a while, then we'll feel at ease.”

“Brother…” Colin’s body trembled twice, he opened his mouth, but in the end he couldn’t say anything.

He knew, of course, that what the other person said was true, but if he really followed his relatives' arrangements and left the village...

If he were to return later and all he saw was a devastated ruin... the boy couldn't imagine how he would feel at that time.

Dreaming of becoming an adventurer, youthful passion filled every part of his body. He had never experienced life and death, nor had he ever had a proper understanding of the preciousness of life.

Right now, Colin just wants to stay in the village. Even if they die together, it's still better than living alone.

Meanwhile, similar events are happening in every household of this village, and in countless nameless towns across the continent.

A swarm of goblins that seems to have sprung from the ground is enough to drive families and entire villages to the brink of destruction.

This is reality.

Despair and helplessness.

They certainly didn't just sit and wait to die.

Hunters and experienced village chiefs lead able-bodied villagers to regularly patrol the outskirts of the village and along the main roads, monitoring for potential dangers and issuing intelligence, thus forming patrol teams.

They used limited materials to build simple wooden walls, set up sharpened wooden stakes and barricades, dug trenches, and even set up tripwires and alarms at night.

The villagers spontaneously contributed useful items, transforming farm tools such as sickles and pitchforks into weapons, and organized basic drills and combat training.

In the dim light of early morning and evening, no one goes out anymore. Farming, gathering firewood, and fetching water are all done in groups, and some farmland and hunting grounds that are far from the village are temporarily abandoned.

The villagers were well prepared to face the group of green-skinned goblins that were lurking around the village.

However, knowing the evil nature and cruelty of these creatures, they must also consider the worst-case scenario and be prepared.

Some might ask, since you've encountered this monster's danger, why not ask a nearby lord for help, or even hire an adventurer team to come and assist you?

Let's not even mention its remote location deep in the mountains and forests, where you rarely even encounter a few passing caravans throughout the year.

As for the former, how could those important figures living in beautiful and magnificent castles care about the life or death of their tiny village, which could hardly pay any taxes all year round?

As for the latter, hiring adventurers for help...

can only say.

If the villagers still have a chance to fight those goblins to the death and ultimately win.

By actively inviting an adventurer team whose strength far surpasses that of ordinary people to the village, one is practically entrusting the lives of the entire village to their hands, especially in a remote and sparsely populated area.

It was an even more deadly gamble.

If they encounter a few individuals with relatively poor professional ethics, and harbor even the slightest evil thoughts, their only fate will be the massacre of their entire village.

In some situations, adventurers are even more dangerous than goblins.

"Zi la...Zi la..."

The sound of sharpening a machete echoed in the room again; the elder brother's movements were slow yet powerful.
“A few days ago, Uncle John risked his life to follow a few goblins to their lair. He said... the entrance to the lair was unusually large, and there were far more goblins than he had imagined.”

“If we fail to hold on, at least you are still outside. This family… cannot all perish here.”

The father also lit his pipe, and the pungent white smoke swirled upwards, blurring his face.

“This isn’t one of those legendary adventure stories, Colin.” “This is a matter of life and death.”

“Colin, you are my son. I know what you are thinking, but true protection is not based on passion, but on making the best choice for your family after weighing the pros and cons.”

He paused abruptly, exhaled a long breath, and gazed at the young man before him with weary, deep eyes, as if trying to etch his image into the depths of his memory.

"Tomorrow morning, when the sun is bright enough to shine through the dark corners of the forest, take the dry food and copper coins your family has gathered for you, and go to the village entrance to meet the boys and girls who left with you. They are about the same age, and you should know them all."

"When the time comes... remember to listen to the village chief."

Colin opened his mouth, looking at his father's gray hair, his mother's red eyes beside him, and his brother's steady and reliable figure huddled in the corner.

A complex emotion, indescribable and unlike anything I had ever experienced in my life for over a decade, slowly seeped from the depths of my heart like spring water seeping from a crack in the rock.

Finally, under everyone's watchful eyes, he nodded very slowly.

But it was precisely at this moment, when the atmosphere became stagnant and oppressive to the extreme, that things began to suffocate.

“Knock, knock, knock.”

Abruptly, a crisp knock on the door broke the deathly silence in the air.

"Who?"

The father asked in a loud voice.

There was no answer from outside the door.

His cloudy eyes suddenly sharpened, and as he quietly stood up, he gestured with his eyes for his wife to lead Colin quietly toward the back window of the house.

Unlike his earlier slight rebellion, Colin was now behaving unusually well-behaved, shielding his mother behind him and grabbing the hunting bow that was on the table, pulling it away from her.

As for the eldest son, who was calm and composed, he stopped sharpening his knife the moment the knocking sounded.

He was now holding his machete, which, even when sharpened to its sharpest point, still felt dull, as he stood before the door.

"Who is it? Speak up!"

Quietly picking up the pitchfork that had been prepared in advance for any unexpected situation, the father took two steps forward, approaching the door, and once again asked loudly.

The only response he received was three soft, rhythmic knocks on the door.

“Knock, knock, knock.”

The father gripped the pitchfork tightly with both hands, his arms trembling slightly from the force. The tip of the pitchfork pointed directly at the doorway, ready to pierce through at any moment with a burst of strength.

Take a deep breath.

She nodded slightly to her eldest son, who was standing by the door.

Immediately, Colin's composed older brother raised the machete high in his right hand, while his left hand slowly reached for the door bolt.

He held his breath, signaling to his father to get ready.

Then... he flung open the door!

"boom!"

The sounds of the hinges rubbing and colliding almost came together in an instant, forming a sharp and piercing noise.

The rapidly spinning wooden door kicked up clouds of dust on the ground, and then slammed into the wall with such force that it shook off the dust and made a loud crashing sound.

hula-

Warm air from outside poured into the room through the open door, dispelling the stuffy atmosphere.

A burst of brilliant golden twilight flooded in, dissolving all the darkness that had once filled the room.

Bathed in the intense, dazzling light of the setting sun, his tall and slender figure stood quietly in front of the door.

With his back to the sunlight, his figure formed a deep silhouette in the backlight, obscuring his face. However, the edge of his body, which carried two swords, was outlined with a dazzling golden edge by the setting sun.

As the dim environment was suddenly illuminated, time seemed to stand still inside the room, and the four members of the Colin family were instinctively stunned.

Colin's eyes widened instinctively, his pupils reflecting the figure outlined by the golden light.

A remarkably young male voice drifted into my ears:

"Hello, I am an adventurer passing by."

"Just call me Xia Nan."

……

……

The atmosphere in the room remained silent.

But the oppressive silence that had filled the air had somehow vanished without a trace.

White smoke rose from the pipe amidst sparks, and the hand gripping the machete, though tense, subtly relaxed.

Colin stood to the side, gazing at the figure in the center of the room ahead, who was happily eating from a plate.

Like his parents and older brother, his body was stiff and tense due to excessive tension.

But a pair of eyes, timid yet curious, quietly shifted.

His gaze traveled up from the leg guards with their unique, bone-like texture, paused briefly on the slightly damaged silver-gray iron armor bearing obvious signs of battle, swept over the cold, clear black arm shields, and finally settled on the two longswords with only their hilts showing. He subconsciously recalled the way the other person wielded the sword when cutting food, specifically the exquisite dagger with its unique pink hue that seemed to be forged from expensive gemstones.

"Adventurer..."

At that moment, Colin felt as if the adventure stories he had heard before had truly become reality.

Just now, it was this adventurer with black hair, black eyes, and an exceptionally young face who knocked on the door.

Then, with an eerily gentle demeanor that is almost impossible for an adventurer, he politely inquired whether he could borrow their kitchen and some ingredients for a short time.

After Colin's father nodded blankly in astonishment, he dragged in half of the cleaned wild boar carcass in front of everyone.

Cutting, cooking, plating...

By the time the group realized what was happening, the black-haired youth was already sitting at the wooden table, enjoying his dinner.

They even left a whole wild boar foreleg and a few coins as compensation for borrowing the kitchen and some food materials.

"Really not going to try it?"

Xia Nan swallowed the piece of meat in his mouth, then waved the earthenware pot in his hand at the group of people in front of him, revealing the clear, viscous, semi-transparent liquid inside.

"This kind of anvil honey is very rare, and it tastes very good."

(End of this chapter)