After descending from Mokra Mbembe, the Trailblazers moved through the grass and underbrush, slipping like shadows toward their destination.
The wind barrier shielding their scent and sound remained in place, ensuring that their passage was completely silent. Yet the surrounding stillness seemed to amplify every subtle movement in the environment.
As they drew closer, the temple-fortress loomed into view, a massive structure exuding an aura of foreboding.
Its architecture spoke of ancient collaborations among races.
The towering stones and intricate carvings bore the hallmark of giants' craftsmanship. The seamless integration of trees into the structure's design hinted at Forestfolk ingenuity. The fortified zones and strategic layouts reflected the tactical minds of lizardfolk or perhaps humans.
Though the walls were defaced by goblin vandalism—covered in smears of filth, mucus, and waste—the building remained resilient, defying complete collapse.
But why was it built here?
Temple, fortress, dam, citadel—the purpose of this construction remained ambiguous. Was it a relic of an ancient era when the world faced a calamity that forced diverse races to unite?
That mystery, however, was not theirs to solve.
The Trailblazers had come here for one reason: to eradicate every goblin infesting the place.
As they advanced further, faint white smoke began to swirl around them.
Nahida's mastery over air currents concealed the group within the mist while keeping their movements precise and coordinated. She even extended her efforts to ensure the elf archer's comfort; as a Forestfolk, the archer had limited tolerance for heat despite being acclimated to her native jungle.
The gesture left the elf archer feeling flustered, almost unworthy of such consideration.
"It'll be hard to get used to adventuring without the Princess in the future," she muttered under her breath.
Her gaze then shifted to a lookout tower perched atop the fortress. A goblin, lazily clutching a javelin, was nodding off there.
Daytime was goblins' natural resting period, and Nahida's careful suppression of Mokra Mbembe's noise had kept them undisturbed. Unless a goblin were particularly diligent, detecting their approach through the mist was highly unlikely.
Even if the beast were spotted, it might still work in their favor.
Approaching the fortress gate, the group came upon a massive door made entirely of ancient, gnarled wood—a hallmark of Forestfolk design.
The imposing gate lacked visible metal reinforcements but radiated an unyielding solidity, as though carved from a single boulder.
However, to the side of the main gate was a smaller, square section: a side entrance for messengers and foot traffic.
Above them, the goblins' noisy chatter broke the silence. Some had spotted Mokra Mbembe left behind in the distance. Excited shouts echoed as the goblins clamored down from the parapets, gathering near the side door.
From their hiding place in the bushes, the Trailblazers waited.
First, a goblin scout poked its head out of the door. The elf archer nocked an arrow, ready to fire, while March 7th held her breath, her bow trembling slightly in her hands.
Dan Heng and Stelle stood poised, calmly watching for the opportune moment.
The scout scanned the area briefly before stepping out, followed by another goblin, then a third, and a fourth.
The elf archer clicked her tongue softly, holding her shot until she was sure no others would emerge. Finally, after a few moments of silence, Nahida conjured a sudden whirlwind beneath the goblins.
The chaotic gusts threw the creatures off balance, leaving them vulnerable. Seizing the moment, Dan Heng and Stelle burst from the cover of the bushes.
The swift, dull sound of pierced flesh followed as Dan Heng's spear slashed through one goblin's midsection, while Stelle's blade split another's skull with a sickening crack.
The two goblins at the front stumbled in terror. One caught an arrow that pierced straight through its ears, and the other froze as the air left its lungs, its windpipe crushed by Nahida's magic. Desperately clawing at its throat, it collapsed before an ice arrow from March ended its suffering.
With the area cleared, Nahida stepped forward and signaled for the others to follow her through the side entrance.
Beyond the door lay a large courtyard, eerily empty of goblins.
But the silence was suspicious. Even the dim-witted goblins wouldn't fail to notice the sudden loss of their sentries. And with Mokra Mbembe stationed outside, it was only a matter of time before the goblins mobilized en masse.
Once the group had gathered within the gate, Stelle voiced her unease.
"Do we really need to sneak around like this?"
"It's not ideal," Nahida admitted, "but it's the quickest way to gather intel on their defenses."
She then turned to Dan Heng.
"Stick to the plan. You take point."
With a nod, Dan Heng moved to the front, taking on the role of vanguard.
Not to be outdone, the elf archer followed close behind, her eyes scanning their surroundings.
As a hunter, she was more than just an archer—stealth and reconnaissance were second nature to her.
Step by step, they advanced deeper into the fortress, taking in the state of the once-majestic structure.
Overgrown with weeds and vines, the crumbling fortress offered plenty of hiding spots.
Which also meant plenty of places for ambushes.
Just ahead, the elf archer spotted a trap—a simple tripwire with attached noise-makers. Without disturbing the nearby foliage, she drew a small knife and carefully disarmed it.
Goblins weren't new to traps; their crude ingenuity had been evident in previous ruins. The archer knew better than to let her guard down.
Her sharp eyes soon caught sight of a goblin patrol carrying a short spear, lazily ambling toward their position.
She nocked a sprouting arrow and turned slightly to Nahida, whispering, "What's the plan?"
Though the archer's voice was soft, she leaned close enough to almost rest her chin on Nahida's shoulder. The Princess, with a hint of amusement, responded simply:
"Shoot."
The goblin's throat was pierced clean through by the arrow. It flailed its arms helplessly for a brief moment before collapsing onto the grass with a faint rustle.
The soft noise blended seamlessly with the gentle swaying of the grass, carried by a breeze so tranquil it could lull anyone to sleep.
No one would have suspected the danger hidden within the serene meadow.
And so...
One by one, the goblin patrols were quietly dispatched.
Eventually, the remaining two goblin sentries at the gate began to sense something was wrong.
Their dull, grimy faces were filled with unease as they stared at the familiar grassland, now imbued with an unexplainable menace. None of their fellow sentries had returned.
Even goblins, lazy and indolent by nature, wouldn't willingly "work overtime." That much was certain.
Gripping their crude weapons tightly, they kept their eyes fixed on the open ground, too terrified to let their guard down.
Then came a faint sound—a barely audible swish.
One goblin instinctively turned to its right, only to find its vision suddenly plummeting to the ground.
It wasn't until its headless body collapsed and its companion screamed in shock that the goblin realized it had been decapitated.
But even that realization came too late. The second goblin's life ended in silence, leaving their deaths as the signal that the area had been cleared.
Emerging from the grass, the Trailblazers surveyed the two headless corpses. Despite their experience, they all found themselves glancing toward the small figure at the back of their group—the seemingly harmless fairy girl.
Her flower-like eyes blinked innocently as she tilted her head in confusion.
"What's wrong? Was it too gruesome?" she asked, her voice sweet and untroubled.
"No… not exactly. I just didn't expect that," March 7th mumbled, scratching her cheek awkwardly.
After seeing the horrifying forest of impaled bodies earlier, pity for the goblins was the furthest thing from anyone's mind.
The elf archer, however, spoke her mind openly.
"Oh, I think March was just surprised that such filthy little creatures weren't worth your personal touch, Your Highness."
"Enough with the nonsense. I'm no pampered princess," Nahida replied with a frown, clearly unimpressed by the excessive flattery.
"But you are the Princess of the Forestfolk! Far more noble than any human royalty could dream of being!"
Though her words bordered on species prejudice, the elf archer spoke them without hesitation, her adoration for Nahida unwavering.
The rest of the group remained silent, neither agreeing nor opposing her words. This only reinforced the archer's conviction that Nahida was the world's greatest treasure.
"Alright, that's enough of that. Let's move on," Nahida said, bringing the conversation to a close.
With the sentries eliminated, the group approached the fortress's massive wooden gates.
But these weren't the only doors standing before them.
Like the false doors found in ancient tombs designed to mislead intruders, this fortress featured multiple entrances.
However, the goblins, lacking the intellect to understand such designs, had repeatedly trampled through the correct path, leaving the grass in disarray and making their chosen route unmistakable.
The true path led to a locked door, but the elf archer stepped forward with a confident smirk.
"I've had some practice with this," she said, pulling a small lockpick from her pouch.
Using her keen ears to listen for the subtle clicks inside the mechanism, she worked deftly. Within moments, the lock gave way with a satisfying click.
"There we go!" She puffed out her chest with pride, beaming at the group.
Clearly seeking praise, she glanced expectantly at Nahida, who rose on her tiptoes to pat the archer's head. The archer, like a delighted hound receiving affection from her master, leaned into the gesture with a happy grin.
The door creaked open, releasing a musty, foul odor that wafted from within.
A mixture of decayed goblin nests and the ancient ruins' rot filled the air. Just the sight of the damp, moldy interior was enough to conjure an imaginary stench in the minds of those who gazed upon it.
Beyond the door was a narrow passage, no wider than the shoulders of an average adult. Only Nahida's small frame seemed perfectly suited to navigate it.
"This is definitely a prime spot for traps," March 7th muttered warily.
Her experience as an adventurer had taught her to recognize such danger zones. A cramped, single-file passage practically begged to be laden with pitfalls or spike traps.
"Proceed cautiously," Dan Heng advised.
Taking the lead, Dan Heng and Stelle illuminated their path with portable light sources, casting a dim glow over the suffocating corridor.
The passage twisted and turned, extending endlessly into the dark. The faint rumble of flowing water echoed through the stone walls—a reminder of the river that had been dammed outside.
The oppressive atmosphere gnawed at March 7th's nerves. She couldn't shake the feeling that goblins might ambush them from the front or that some monstrous maw might suddenly emerge from the rear.
This gnawing tension made it difficult to maintain focus, and any lapse in concentration seemed like it could lead to disaster.
"Don't worry about ambushes or hidden doors for now," Dan Heng said, breaking the silence as if sensing her unease.
"These walls are too solid for goblins—even their larger ones—to break through."
"Agreed," Stelle added, her calm tone reinforcing his assurance.
The atmosphere lightened slightly at their words. The elf archer chimed in as well.
"The skeletons outside were cleanly dealt with. Unless something unexpected happens, we should have a clear path ahead."
"Ordinary goblins aren't the issue," Nahida reminded them, her voice steady. "The one who saddled Mokra Mbembe is the real threat."
"Do you think it could be a troll or something similar?" March asked hesitantly.
"No. It's likely another goblin," Nahida replied. "Only goblins would trust such a responsibility to their own kind."
"Leave it to goblins to be so blind to value," she added bitterly.
Despite their ability to wield tools and mimic techniques, goblins failed to grasp the significance of the knowledge they acquired. Their use of stolen goods stemmed purely from convenience, with no understanding of their true worth.
As the group ventured deeper, the walls began to display ancient murals—remnants of a bygone era.
But every depiction had been vandalized by the goblins.
Some murals were gouged out entirely, while others were defaced with crude graffiti or left partially destroyed. The senseless destruction revealed the goblins' childish malice, as if they had broken these works of art purely for amusement.
When this same destructive impulse was turned toward living beings, the resulting horrors were all too easy to imagine.
The group fell into a solemn silence as they pushed forward.
The sound of rushing water grew louder, mingling with faint whispers carried by a draft from the depths of the ruins.
---
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