As I ventured deeper into the forest, the canopy overhead grew denser, casting the forest floor in a warm, emerald green gloom.
The trees here were older, their gnarled trunks twisted and grooved with the weight of centuries.
The air was alive with the songs of birds and the gentle hum of insects, a soothing melody that seemed to wash away the stresses of the world. I breathed deeply, feeling the cool, damp air fill my lungs, and smiled.
There was something about being in nature that always seemed to clear my head and lift my spirits.
As I walked, the forest seemed to grow quieter, the sounds of the birds and insects fading into the background. I felt a sense of peace settle over me, a sense of being connected to something deeper and more meaningful than the hustle and bustle of everyday life.
"Haah," I sighed, feeling the tension in my shoulders begin to ease. This place is definitely more relaxing than Erantel.
It's probably because of the fresh mana produced by the trees around. Huh. Is this why elves prefer forest areas.
Anyway, I should refocus on the mission.
As I trekked through the forest, I carefully followed a trail of goblin footprints. The forest was alive with the rustling of leaves and the chirping of birds, but there was an underlying sense of unease in the air.
After a long time of following the footprints, I stumbled upon a peculiar scene.
A ramshackle wooden shelter was nestled among the ancient trees, partially concealed by deep foliage. It was a jarring contrast to the forest's natural beauty.
The shelter was constructed from twisted branches and intertwined vines, and it appeared to be surprisingly sturdy. The goblins seemed to have built their lair out of reclaimed forest materials.
Through small holes that served as windows, slivers of subdued sunlight could seep in and illuminate the interior.
I couldn't help but smile excitedly at the prospect of discovering this goblin lair. With a steady supply of enemies to fight, I could become stronger faster.
My eyes gleamed with anticipation as I gazed at the shelter. However, I remained cautious, knowing that goblins were notorious for their cunning and ferocity.
I sheathed my sword quickly and quietly, freeing my hands for the task at hand. A massive tree in front of me appeared to be an excellent vantage point for observing the goblin den below.
My instincts took over, and I started my ascent with rapid, swift movements.
Each branch I grasped and foothold I discovered in the bark demonstrated my increasing physical strength.
The broad, gnarled arms of the tree gave adequate support for my ascent. My fingers clung to the roughness of the tree, while my feet slid freely from limb to branch.
I eventually discovered a decent spot among the heavy foliage and branches. From this vantage point, I had a clear view of the goblin lair.
I felt like a silent observer, a ghost in the forest, concealed among the treetops. The wooden shelter was outlined in greater detail below.
The goblins dashed around, their wiry, misshapen forms stepping in and out of the makeshift structure.
Their pointed ears twitched with every sound, and their beady eyes gleamed with a malevolent intelligence.
As I examined the goblin lair from my hidden vantage point, it didn't take long for me to notice the delicate dynamics at work among these beasts.
Approximately about thirty goblins scurried around, their distinguishing traits becoming more obvious with each passing second.
Some were larger, certainly males, while the rest, despite their smaller stature, were unmistakably females.
It was a strange sight, and it became evident soon that goblins had a distinct social structure driven by their basic instincts and the survival of their species.
I watched with interest, my mind only on how much stronger I would become if I consumed everyone in this nest.
Thankfully, there didn't seem to be a hobgoblin. If there was, I would've hurried the hell out of here.
Hobgoblins were [E+] rank and usually entered into [D-] rank.
But they did seem to have a chief. It was a stronger looking regular goblin.
I surveyed the ideal location for stealthily eliminating the goblin chief.
I took a deep breath and drew my sword from its scabbard, carefully assessing the situation.
I wanted to strike quickly and aggressively, eliminating as many goblins as possible before they could retaliate.
As the seconds passed, a plan began to develop in my thoughts. I'll kill the chief first, it'll be just like cutting off a serpent's head.
The other goblins would be in disarray without his leadership, making it easier to deal with them.
I began my descent from the tree with purpose, gliding with the stealth and silence of a predator pursuing its prey.
I landed silently on the forest floor, my sword at the ready. My heart was racing, and every muscle in my body was tense.
I hurried quickly through the underbrush, my footsteps muffled by the forest's natural sounds.
As I approached, I could see the goblin chief, his imposing form in the middle of the group, his green skin seeming to blend with the foliage.
The goblins' guttural voices filled the air, their language unintelligible to me. They appeared to be preoccupied with their work, oblivious to the impending danger.
I tightened my grasp on the sword and concentrated my gaze on the chief. 'Let's give it a shot'.
I channeled mana through my body, directing it to my foot.
Fwoosh
I burst forward with a sudden surge of speed, my sword aimed at the goblin chief's heart.
As I closed the distance in the blink of an eye, surprise reverberated through the goblin den.
Slash crackle
The chief hardly had time to react as my sword pierced his chest, a bolt of lightning crackling along the blade.
"Graa?..." As he stumbled backward, a strangled moan came from his lips, blood spilling from the wound.
Driven by instinct, the female goblin turned to face me. As she understood their leader had died, chaos ensued, and panic flooded over her head.
I didn't think twice. I moved with merciless efficiency, striking down the female goblin while the chief was paralyzed.
The other goblins noticed my presence and began to assault me; although I was outnumbered, I was able to remain a safe distance from them.
As the first wave of goblins charged at me, time seemed to stand still. I parried their clumsy weapons with quickness and struck back with precision.
My sword cut through the air, hitting its target with deadly precision, a burst of lightning accompanying each strike.
The first goblin fell, a surprised expression on its twisted face. The battle had begun in earnest by this point, and I moved with fluid grace, dispatching goblin after goblin.
My training had honed my combat skills to a certain degree, so their numbers meant little to me.
Another goblin fell with each swing of my sword, their pained cries filling the air. The goblins, on the other hand, were unrelenting.
They launched an all-out assault, their numbers overwhelming. I dove and weaved, dodging their assaults while launching measured counterattacks.
Minutes turned into hours as the goblin population shrank. Their fight weakened, and their screams for mercy were ignored.
Finally, I stood among the dead, my chest heaving with effort. The chief was dead at my feet, his life essence gone.
The wooded shelter was now a bloodbath, and combat echoes hung heavily in the air.
I looked around at the fallen goblins. Many of them were females. They had battled heroically to protect their home, but they were much easier to deal with than their male counterparts.
It was a shame. I then took out my knife and cut the left ears of five of them and kept it in my pouch.
Then stored both in my storage ring. Then stretching out my hand, I muttered [Devour] and an ominous black mist covered all thirty goblins.