Starting with the goblin extermination

The smells of earth, feces, blood, and the nauseating wet dog odor emanating from the gnolls nearly made Quintas faint.

Quintas initially felt utterly unlucky, still clinging to a last sliver of hope—

The reinforcements the family has called should be arriving soon; my father won't just stand by and watch his second son die here.

Even though he never liked himself.

But hope soon vanished.

Now he only felt fear, a maddening fear.

His snot and tears had long since dried on his face, forming a sticky layer like a mask. He couldn't even wipe them away.

As the second son of a baron, Quintas never imagined that he would have such a day.

He's about to be eaten.

His flesh was sliced ​​off piece by piece while he was still alive, then slowly roasted over a fire, and finally eaten by these drooling hyenas in front of him!

He just wanted to have an adventure in the forest with a few friends.

The result speaks for itself.

They got lost, encountered goblins, were captured, and were eventually dragged here like livestock.

The swordsmanship he had painstakingly practiced since childhood was utterly useless against a real demon. Why? Why couldn't he grip the sword? Why did his legs go weak?

He watched as a companion was ripped open from the chest and had his heart eaten by a goblin... That bloody scene is still etched in his mind.

The thought of that scene made Quintas gag again.

But he couldn't vomit anything anymore.

By the way, I'd already vomited everything out of my stomach.

Only a trickle of gastric juice dripped from the corner of his mouth and fell into the soil.

Hector...

While at the goblin camp, Hector spoke to him in a low voice the whole time.

Over the years, Quintus had made many friends, so why was Hector so different? Their first meeting was due to their parents' connection. The second was because of his sunny and cheerful personality, and his humor—

Just like Hector had done after they were captured. He encouraged him when he was in tears, told him that rescue would come soon, told him goblin jokes, and told him that there was still hope.

But Hector died.

When Hector was chosen by the gnolls, he felt no sadness for Hector... but only a sense of relief.

He was relieved, relieved that he wasn't the one chosen.

How ugly and selfish he was at that moment.

But now, the belated grief overwhelmed him, making it almost impossible for him to breathe.

He wept silently.

Regret overwhelmed him like a tidal wave.

Hector's body lay beside him, head long gone, his mutilated body bound by ropes, motionless. It was hard to imagine that this was the companion he had once partied with all night in a brothel.

It was finally his turn.

The approaching footsteps of the gnolls startled him from his reverie.

A gnoll grabbed his ankle and dragged him forward.

His back carved a furrow into the gravelly forest floor, and the burning pain made his scalp tingle.

He was dragged into an open area surrounded by boulders.

In the very center stood a bonfire, on which were skewered suspicious pieces of meat and broken bones.

Gnolls surrounded him, and he could see his own twisted, collapsing face reflected in the gleaming surface of the weapons.

"No...no!"

The rag in his mouth had already been torn off.

The jackals were in no hurry to attack; they enjoyed the dying howls of their prey, as if the fear made the meat more delicious and firm.

Quintus, as expected, collapsed, just like his dead companions.

"Don't kill me!... Please... My father is a baron! He has so much money! I'll give you gold coins... no, platinum coins! Lots and lots of them!! Just let me go!"

Quintas cried out in despair.

He has repeated this phrase countless times.

He knew these beasts understood Common Language.

But the gnoll's cloudy eyes held only a thirst for flesh and blood.

What is money?

Can you buy human flesh with gold coins?

The freshest and most delicious human flesh was right in front of them.

Then what's the point of having money?

The largest gnoll leader grinned, making mocking, hissing noises.

It raised its battle axe high, pointing it directly at Quintas's vulnerable neck.

The surrounding gnolls crouched down excitedly, pounding the ground with their fists and howling shrilly, as if performing a pre-meal ritual.

Quintas cried out his tears and closed his eyes in despair.

He thought of his mother...the vicious things he had said to her during their last argument.

He thought of his father...the disappointment and accusations that made him forever unable to lift his head.

Finally, what flashed through his mind was the last seed he had left on that woman's belly before he left.

He deeply regretted it.

If I could do it all over again...

The battle axe whistled through the air as it swung down heavily.

However, the expected excruciating pain did not occur.

Pfft—!

An eerie silence suddenly fell over the area surrounding the boulder.

In the shadows, the sharp blade sliced ​​through flesh and pierced the trachea in an instant, silencing any screams.

The jackal leader's axe froze in mid-air.

rustle.

Its beastly instincts detected the anomaly, and it turned its head, squinting as it stared intently at the cracks in the stone formation.

There was nothing there.

The gnoll leader's eyes darted around. Seeing their leader's bewildered expression, the gnolls stood up.

A sudden gust of wind picked up in the woods.

Quintas opened one eye in horror.

Bloody smell.

He saw something silently peeling away from the shadows above the boulder.

It was a somber silhouette.

Before he could see it clearly, the shadow, like a drop of ink melting into the night, slid down the rock wall.

next moment--

Shadow Step

Another throat was severed in an instant, and blood splattered everywhere.

Immediately following was the loud crack of bones breaking!

boom--!!!

Like a battering ram slamming into the city gate.

A tall man, covered in blood, like a raging beast, brutally tore apart two gnolls at the entrance and crashed into the center of the camp!

There are no fancy techniques.

It was simply, pure violence.

too fast.

[Thrust]

The longsword pierced through the air with a piercing sound, instantly leaving a large hole in the neck of a gnoll, from which blood gushed out like a fountain in the firelight.

Immediately afterwards, he swung his elbow back, the heavy impact denting the breastbone of another gnoll, the crisp sound of breaking ribs clearly audible. The gnoll flew backward like a rag doll, crashing heavily onto the boulder, motionless.

His golden hair, stained with blood, looked particularly glaring in the firelight.

The longsword in his hand gleamed coldly, and his eyes were icy and sharp, devoid of any warmth.

The entire camp was instantly enveloped by an invisible killing intent.

Quintas had never in his life been so madly in love with a northerner as he was at this moment.

That adventurer he once scorned on the training field, whom he regarded as a crude barbarian—

Logan.