The adventurer at the bottom is fantasizing again.

Because of the goblin's light weight, the lightning bolt didn't carry Lorraine very far.

With a single sword stroke, he beheaded the goblin who was unconscious from the electric shock, then dodged the incoming arrows and ran a few steps to the middle of the goblin pile.

"Drink!"

Lorraine kicked a howling goblin to the ground, plunged the Rusty Throat into its chest, and then unleashed the spell she had just learned.

Thunder Waves of Lorraine

A violent, invisible force spread rapidly outwards from his body, stirring up dust in the air and creating a visible shockwave.

Aside from the two goblins leading humans beside the cart, the shockwave enveloped the other six goblins around him.

In just a moment, the invisible force reversed course, engulfing everything around it and flying towards Lorraine.

Just as the goblins and debris got close to his body, tiny arcs of electricity leaped from his skin, followed by a deafening roar.

"boom!--"

The six goblins, as if struck by lightning, flew erratically through the air, crashing heavily to the ground along with the debris that had been ignited by the lightning strikes.

The camp fell silent instantly.

Lorraine, somewhat bewildered, pulled out the Rusty Throat. The goblin at his feet was already mangled beyond recognition by the thunderous wave.

He hadn't expected the spell to be so powerful. He had just prepared to use the shield on his back to block the attack, but it instantly killed them.

"Squeak, squeak, squeak!"

The two goblins beside the cart had never seen anything like this before. After standing there dumbfounded for two seconds, they scrambled and crawled away into the forest.

"Bala Astra!"

Three silver beams of light struck them precisely, one after the other. The one that ran faster was lucky enough to take two hits and died instantly in the dazzling explosion.

"You killed them all by yourself?"

The short man ran out excitedly, only to be disappointed to see the corpse on the ground, without even having a chance to swing his hammer.

Lorraine gestured towards Eileen behind him and said, "She also killed two others."

Eileen rolled her eyes, walked over to him, and looked down at the mess on the floor.

"Thunder Wave?"

"...Probably."

"Ha... Warlock."

Eileen pursed her lips.

How could someone instantly unleash a first-stage spell without any magical artifacts, especially during combat? Just who is this guy?

Lorraine chuckled awkwardly, stood up, and walked over to the two men, giving them a careful look.

One was in his thirties, and the other looked to be in his early twenties. Their clothes were made of decent material, so they were probably not poor.

"What are you doing here? How did you get captured by these goblins?" Lorraine swung her sword and cut the ropes binding their hands.

"My name is Gary. We...we are a caravan sent by Viscount Herman...to collect supplies in the west."

The older one was the first to react.

His legs gave way and he collapsed to his knees, tears mingling with the blood on his face as he spoke, his voice trembling:

"We encountered these beasts on the road, and the few cowardly guards in the caravan abandoned us and ran away when they saw that they couldn't beat them."

The leader and the other two guys were killed by goblins, we thought we were going to die this time... Thank you... Thank you!

Lorraine nodded noncommittally. The wooden box on the cart did indeed have three icicle patterns printed on it, which he had seen on Viscount Hermann's clothing before.

He stepped onto the cart and began inspecting the goods.

The sacks were filled with rolled-up furs, mostly of species not found in the Misty Forest.

This kind of goods sells very well in winter; as long as they can be transported here, it's practically like picking up money.

Lorraine drew his dagger from his waist and pried open the three wooden crates with force, then froze on the spot.

"Eileen, Eileen! Come quick!"

The red-haired monk walked over, completely bewildered, wondering what kind of trouble he was up to now. She approached the wooden crates and looked down.

"What!?" Eileen exclaimed in surprise.

Two of the wooden crates contained more than twenty oilcloth packages, which, when opened, were found to contain precious spices such as pepper and cinnamon, which at a glance were worth 30 to 50 gold coins.

Even so, these were merely things that often appeared on her dining table, and could not possibly surprise a noble mage of such high status.

What surprised her most was the last wooden box.

The wooden box was filled with all sorts of bottles and jars, which were divided into small compartments by hay and wooden strips and held firmly in place.

Eileen took out a glass bottle, gently shook the liquid inside, opened her mouth slightly, and said:

"Silver Moon Ink?"

"This is something used for copying spells. Isn't Herman a warrior?"

She carefully put the glass bottle back and was about to look at the other materials when the young man suddenly jumped out.

"Do you know whose stuff this is?! Let go of your dirty hands, woman!"

He pointed proudly at Eileen, as if he were the renowned Viscount Herman Frostgrain:

"These all belong to Lord Hermann. If he finds out you've touched them..."

Before he could finish speaking, he was punched hard in the face.

"Idiot! If you want to die, don't drag me down with you!"

Gary swung his right hand with all his might, stopping him from finishing his sentence.

He seemed unsatisfied with just one punch, and threw several more, nearly knocking the young man unconscious before he knelt down in fear once more.

"My lord...my lord!

Don't be angry, he's just a fool. You saved us, so these are your spoils of war.

These things definitely need to be disposed of; they are indeed things that Viscount Hermann really wants.

You'd better not sell it directly on the market. I have connections... I have connections!

He kept kowtowing as he spoke.

In winter, the ground is just as hard as stone, and Gary's forehead was quickly covered in blood and gore.

But he dared not stop, only kowtowing repeatedly, begging the three people in front of him who could easily take his life to spare him, considering that he was still of some use.

That idiot, that moron!

They've already been rescued, how could he say such a thing? How dare he say such a thing!

I actually thought he was a clever young man, and I even considered introducing him to the Viscount...

Gary's anger had reached its peak.

[Human hair, male, approximately 25 to 30 years old, abnormally aroused]

Are there really such idiots?

Lorraine frowned, turning her gaze away from the young man's hair, feeling somewhat unable to understand his behavior.

These two people had already been captured by goblins, so after rescuing them, these things should be considered spoils of war.

He had a feeling that something was off, but after thinking about it for a long time, he couldn't figure out what was wrong. He could only conclude that this guy definitely had something wrong with his head.

They've already survived, so why would they come forward and claim these are Viscount Hermann's goods? Aren't they just asking for trouble?

Now they either have to rush to deliver their hard-earned spoils to the Viscount, or they have to silence him.

Lorraine had no desire to get involved in such trouble.

He sighed and said softly:

Why bother?

"Please...please..."

Gary stared wide-eyed, trembling, sweat mixed with blood splattering onto the ground.

"puff--"

A soft sound of a sharp object piercing his body reached his ears, making him tremble with fear.

"I imagine...you must have other opinions?"

Gary suddenly raised his head, his vision blurry as he looked at the man in front of him.

Against the sunlight, he could only see the vague outline shrouded in light and the long sword that gleamed with a cold light.

He knew he had survived for the time being, but he didn't know when his life would end.

"Yes, sir!"

Gary crawled down deeply.