Several days had passed, and Merger was in a state of emergency. The once bustling streets were now filled with armed patrols, and the tension in the air was palpable. The goblin threat loomed large, and everyone was on edge.
In his room, Alaric examined the remains of the Emberblast. The once powerful weapon was now a shattered shell of its former self, with only a small part of the flare shard still intact. The rest had been blown away in the explosion. Alaric sighed, setting the remnants aside.
"I'll have to build something new after this is all over," he muttered to himself, already envisioning his next creation.
A few hours later, Alaric found himself riding towards the forest. Margaret held the reins, expertly guiding the horse. She couldn't hide her shock at the fact that Alaric, a man of such apparent skill and ingenuity, didn't know how to ride a horse.
"You mean to tell me you've never ridden a horse before?" she asked incredulously.
Alaric shrugged, gripping the saddle tightly. "Never had the need. My work doesn't exactly require equestrian skills."
Margaret shook her head, still baffled. "It's just... surprising, that's all. Every nobleman I know can ride."
Alaric smirked. "Well, every noblewoman I know's how to hold a tea party."
Margaret chuckled despite herself. "Touché. But riding is essential out here. How do you expect to get anywhere quickly without a horse?"
"I make do," Alaric replied, his tone light. "Besides, it's not like I'm completely helpless."
Margaret cast a sidelong glance at him. "I suppose not. Still, it's something you should learn. You never know when it might come in handy."
Alaric nodded, appreciating her pragmatism. "I'll take that under advisement."
As they rode deeper into the forest, the atmosphere grew tenser. The trees cast long shadows, and every rustle of leaves made them both jumpy. The goblins could be anywhere, and neither of them wanted to be caught off guard.
Margaret broke the silence. "What's your plan, Alaric? We can't just keep fighting them off forever."
"I agree," Alaric said, scanning the forest. "We need to find their nest. Goblins are cunning, but they usually have a central base. If we can locate it, we can strike at the heart of their operation."
"And how do you propose we find it?" Margaret asked, her eyes narrowing.
Alaric tapped his temple. "I've got a few ideas. But first, we need to gather more information. There are patterns to their attacks. If we can map them out, we might be able to pinpoint where they're coming from."
Margaret nodded, impressed by his strategic thinking. "That makes sense. We've got scouts out gathering intel. We should compare notes when we get back."
"Agreed," Alaric said. "The sooner we can locate their nest, the sooner we can put an end to this."
As they continued their ride, the sun began to set, casting an orange glow over the forest. The tension between them eased slightly as they shared a common goal. Despite their differences, they both wanted to protect Merger.
"Thank you," Margaret said suddenly, breaking the silence.
Alaric looked at her, surprised. "For what?"
"For helping us," she said simply. "You could have left, but you stayed. That means something."
Alaric smiled faintly. "I'm not a hero, Margaret. I just don't like debts."
"Sometimes that's enough," she replied.
For the next few days, Alaric and Margaret diligently traced the pathways from which the goblins had come, all the while aiding in the extermination efforts. The triple-barrel rotary cannon proved to be invaluable, mowing down groups of goblins with terrifying efficiency.
"Clear!" Alaric shouted over the din of battle, watching as the last goblin in the current wave fell. He quickly began reloading the cannon, his movements precise and practiced.
Margaret wiped her brow, panting slightly. "This thing is a game-changer, Alaric. But we need to find their source. We're just putting out fires."
Alaric nodded, his eyes scanning the horizon. "Agreed. We need to get to the root of this. But every time we think we're close, we hit a dead-end."
Margaret's face tightened with worry. "My people are growing restless. They're scared, and I don't blame them. If we don't find a solution soon..."
"We will," Alaric said firmly. "We just need to keep pushing forward."
As they continued their investigation, frustration began to gnaw at Alaric. Every path they traced seemed to lead nowhere. The goblins were crafty, their tracks often doubling back on themselves or disappearing altogether. It was as if someone was deliberately trying to mislead them.
"Another dead-end," Margaret muttered, kicking a rock in frustration. "This is hopeless."
"It's not hopeless," Alaric replied, though he shared her frustration. "We just need to think differently. There's a pattern here, we just haven't seen it yet."
Margaret sighed, her shoulders slumping. "I just... I hate feeling this helpless. My people are depending on us."
Alaric placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I know. And we're going to find a way to help them. We just need to keep our wits about us."
As night fell, they made camp in a small clearing. The forest was eerily quiet, the usual sounds of nocturnal creatures absent. It was as if the goblin threat had silenced everything else.
"Why do you think they're doing this?" Margaret asked, staring into the campfire.
Alaric poked at the fire with a stick, his brow furrowed in thought. "That's the question, isn't it? Goblins don't usually organize themselves like this. Someone or something is driving them."
"But why?" Margaret pressed. "What could they possibly hope to gain?"
"That's what I've been trying to figure out," Alaric said, his frustration evident. "The 'who' isn't as important to me as the 'how'. How are they coordinating these attacks? How are they staying hidden?"
Margaret nodded slowly. "You're right. If we can understand the 'how', it might lead us to the 'who'."
They sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Alaric's mind raced with possibilities. Magic? Some kind of advanced technology? He couldn't shake the feeling that they were missing something obvious.
The next morning, they resumed their search. Alaric's determination was palpable, and Margaret drew strength from his resolve. They moved through the forest with purpose, their eyes sharp for any clue.
"Over here," Alaric called, crouching down to examine a peculiar set of tracks. "These are fresh. And they don't look like the usual goblin prints."
Margaret knelt beside him, her eyes widening. "You're right. These are different. Could it be...?"
"Something else is at play here," Alaric said, standing up. "We need to follow these tracks. They might lead us to whoever is orchestrating this."
As they followed the new trail, Margaret couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. Alaric's intuition had led them this far, and she trusted his judgment. They moved swiftly but cautiously, the forest around them seeming to hold its breath.
"Stay alert," Alaric warned, his eyes scanning the surroundings. "We're getting close."
Margaret nodded, her grip tightening on her sword. They were on the brink of a breakthrough, and she was determined not to let anything slip through their fingers.
Together, they pushed forward, ready to face whatever awaited them. The path was treacherous, but their resolve was unwavering. They would uncover the truth behind the goblin invasion, no matter what it took.