"I see them," Ashina said, her crimson eyes glowing with magical light, piercing through the dense grey mist.
The enemies were gathered in a clearing, their twisted forms desecrating the corpse of the captured female slave.
"Must be nice to see through the mist. I can't see a damn thing," Field muttered. While the death mist's toxins no longer affected him thanks to his contract, it didn't grant him the ability to see through the haze. All he saw was a white, foggy void. "What kind of creatures attacked the territory?"
"A bunch of… little people. Dwarves? No, not as bulky as that," Ashina replied.
"Can we take them? If not, we should coordinate with the guards for an attack."
"No problem! They're just ordinary lifeforms," Ashina said, feeling the comforting warmth of Field's chest against her back. A soft, involuntary purr escaped her throat, though her tone remained casual. "We'll crush them easily—they haven't noticed us yet."
Field carefully drew his longsword, ensuring it didn't make a sound, and whispered, "Then let's wipe them out."
"Awwoooo!"
A fierce, predatory howl from the draconic wolf shattered the eerie silence of the grey mist.
The response was immediate—a cacophony of panicked shrieks erupted from the clearing. Field's minimap suddenly lit up with a swarm of red exclamation marks.
"Just as I thought—non-corrupted creatures only show up when they become hostile to me," Field noted with a grim smirk.
Swish, swish, swish!
A flurry of javelins tore through the grey mist, hurtling toward the two of them.
The draconic wolf dodged nimbly, becoming a blur as it effortlessly evaded the projectiles.
"If the enemy can see us, there's no point in hiding in the mist," Field said as he lit the mist-repelling lamp.
Instantly, the surroundings became clear. The area was littered with rotting corpses, twitching tendrils, and sinister vines. But the most striking sight was the group of "dwarves."
More accurately, they were goblins with large noses and jagged teeth. Unlike ordinary goblins, however, these creatures had milky white, lifeless eyes and ochre-hued skin.
The captured female slave lay nearby. She had succumbed to the death mist during her journey through the fog and was now lifeless. Yet, even in death, her body had been stripped and cruelly abused. Her left abdomen was riddled with clusters of tumors—a grotesque product of corruption. Field, with his fear of clustered patterns, only managed a fleeting glance before feeling like he might keel over on the spot.
Upon spotting the humans, the grey goblins waved their arms and jeered provocatively.
"They can survive the grey mist. That's not good news," Field muttered, immediately grasping the situation. These grey goblins were survivors of the death mist, a species filtered and adapted by the lethal environment. "Let one escape alive, but kill the rest."
Ashina's eyes flashed with murderous intent. "Understood."
"Squelch!"
"Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!"
A volley of javelins tore through the grey mist, hurtling toward them.
The draconic wolf darted aside, its movements a blur, effortlessly evading the projectiles.
"If they can see us, hiding in the mist is pointless," Field said.
He lit the mist-repelling lamp, instantly clearing the haze. The surroundings became visible—twisting tendrils, decaying vines, and piles of rotting corpses littered the ground. But what truly stood out was the group of creatures ahead.
They weren't dwarves. They were goblins, with large noses, sharp teeth, and a pale, corpse-like white film over their eyes. Their yellowed skin made them look sickly yet menacing.
The captured female slave had succumbed to the death mist's toxicity during her ordeal. Her corpse, stripped and defiled, was grotesquely mutilated. Corruption had caused clusters of tumors to form along her left abdomen. Field, who had a strong aversion to such sights, barely glanced at her before feeling nauseous.
The grey goblins jeered and taunted them, waving their weapons mockingly as they danced about.
"They're immune to the mist. That's bad news," Field muttered, his mind racing. These goblins were clearly survivors of the death mist's natural selection. "Spare one, but kill the rest. I want to learn more about them."
Ashina's expression darkened, her intent unmistakable. "Understood."
"Splutch!"
The draconic wolf leapt into the air, its massive body descending upon the frontmost goblin with devastating force. Ashina, her face twisted in anger at the sight of the tortured slave, moved with terrifying precision. Her lance struck with increased speed, piercing through a goblin's chest. Blood sprayed as the unfortunate creature was flung aside by the wolf's sheer momentum, its body hitting the ground with a sickening crunch like a broken ragdoll.
The goblins, numbering over thirty, surged forward like a yellow-tinged tidal wave. Their ill-fitting armour clattered as they charged, rusty spears thrusting from every angle. Some, driven by madness, leapt with arms outstretched, attempting to pull the riders off their mount.
"Courting death!"
The idea of goblins defeating a Chosen was laughable—a trope created by Imperial storytellers to entertain the masses. Against the overwhelming power of a Chosen, especially an experienced one like Ashina, ordinary goblins didn't stand a chance.
The draconic wolf ploughed through the goblin horde like a battering ram, its massive body sending creatures flying with every stride. Ashina's lance struck out repeatedly, each thrust claiming one or several lives.
Blood pooled across the northern soil, seeping into the ground and forming small crimson puddles in the lowlands. Screams of pain and death filled the air, blending with the unique, eldritch terrain of the Northern Province to create a scene straight out of hell.
"Aaaahhh!"
The goblins, having suffered devastating losses, broke into a panicked retreat.
However, exposing their defenseless backs to the swift and merciless wolf cavalry was the epitome of foolishness.
Ashina didn't slaughter them outright. In truth, she could have wiped out the goblins in an instant if she had commanded her draconic wolf to unleash its fiery breath. Instead, she drew her longsword, casually pursuing the terrified creatures from behind.
Field, seizing the opportunity, swung his sword at the fleeing goblins, cleaving them into bloody chunks as he passed.
Before long, only one goblin remained. Ashina followed it from a distance, letting it lead them.
Fear-stricken creatures often couldn't think rationally; they instinctively sought out the safest place they knew.
As they ventured deeper into the forest, Field noticed traces on his minimap indicating an old stone road. A decade ago, this path had been a major route for travelers and merchants—safe and efficient. Now, after years of corruption, all visible signs of the road had vanished.
What remained were trails of bones lining the path, confirming to Field that they were on the right track.
The goblins' camp was nestled in a dense forest, surrounded by twisted, corrupted thorn bushes that writhed like worms. This was clearly the best shelter the goblins could find in the desolate region.
This particular goblin tribe called itself the Blackwood Tribe. Its leader was rather fond of the name, seeing it as a reflection of their heritage. They claimed to be descendants of the noble orc expeditionary army, which had once set out to conquer the Sacred Griffon Empire, humanity's gateway fortress.
The expedition had been grand—until it failed miserably.
Those wretched humans, the leader thought bitterly, must have made a pact with the devils to unleash the death mist, annihilating every living being in the Northern Province.
If it weren't for that disaster, he would now be living in a warm, comfortable human city, enjoying his conquests and toying with a human princess.
Still, the resilient goblins had adapted to the corruption, evolving into Grey Mist Goblins. With this newfound strength, the leader fantasized about one day breaking through humanity's cursed walls, capturing their people to ensure the goblins' reproduction and domination.
His dark musings were abruptly interrupted by frantic footsteps.
A dirt-yellow goblin burst into the camp, stumbling and gasping for breath.
"Boss! We found a human camp!" the goblin panted, speaking in their guttural, incomprehensible tongue.
The goblin leader's eyes lit up with glee. "Beast God be praised! Where are they? I'll—"
Before he could finish, his grin froze on his face. Standing imposingly before him was a two-metre-tall draconic wolf, its piercing blue eyes locked on the camp.
"Damn it! You idiot! You led them right to us!"
The goblin leader's furious shout echoed across the camp, which housed over a hundred goblins. However, a quick glance from Field confirmed that these goblins were even weaker than the thirty they had faced earlier.
"What do they eat? Corrupted plants?" Field wondered briefly. But this wasn't the time for natural studies.
Raising his hand, he gave a decisive order, his tone filled with rage. "Burn them all to ashes. How dare they attack my people—they've lived long enough!"
These weren't ordinary goblins—they were evolved creatures thriving in the corrupted mist. Such threats called for overwhelming force.