The Sunset Mountains were a no-go zone for most lords on Day Two of Eldoria. Venturing beyond your castle's territory ant losing the Analyze skill, leaving you blind to the dangers lurking in the wild. A miscalculation could be fatal.
But Alex needed Refined Iron, and the Refined Iron was calling to her from beyond the border.
"Arthur!"
"Master?"
"How far is that Goblin... infestation... from the castle?"
"About 5,000 ters, Master. Right on the edge of the Sunset Mountains."
"5,000 ters..." Alex mused, calculating not the potential rewards, but the escape route. A good general always plans for retreat.
5,000 ters. A 10-second flight for Arthur and John. Doable. Other lords might be afraid, but Alex had flying, immortal Skeleton Dragons. A whole screen of HP bars. Nothing to fear.
"I'm getting that iron."
"Mike!"
Mike, the Elite skeleton, marched smartly from the barbeque pit. "Master?"
"Mike, take the Elite squad. We're going hunting."
"Yes, Master!"
For her first foray beyond the border, Alex wanted to bring the big guns.
Her army assembled:
* Heavy hitters: Arthur (Level 8) and John (Level 7), the God-rank Skeleton Dragons.
* Front line: 60 Level 10 Elite Skeletal Warriors, the Skeleton First Squad.
* Supre Commander: Alex.
"Let's roll!"
Mike and the Elites clambered onto the dragons, clinging to every available bone. Arthur and John, each carrying 30 skeletons, looked like macabre, skeletal pi?atas. Alex hopped onto Arthur's skull, the smoothest part of his bony fra.
"Arthur, lift off!"
With a powerful beat of their wings, the dragons shot into the sky. 5,000 ters zipped by in a blur. Alex spotted the scorched earth from Arthur's breath attack.
"There, Master," Arthur confird.
"Master! Big bro! More green things!" John yelled, pointing.
Alex saw them. Goblins, poking around the burnt forest.
"Land! Capture them alive!"
"Roger that!" John, always eager to please, whipped his tail, accelerating downwards, and landed with a resounding *CRASH*.
"Goblin scum! Bow before your mighty overlord, John!" He'd practically pulverized them.
"John, you imbecile! Alive!" Arthur roared.
John picked up a squashed Goblin, grinning. "Don't worry, big bro! They're still kicking!"
Arthur landed smoothly with Alex. She rushed over to find the Goblins half-embedded in the dirt, miraculously still alive.
"These Eldoria creatures are ridiculously resilient!"
John nudged Alex with his head. "Good job, right, Master?" *You're a moron,* Arthur thought, his soul fire dimming with sha.
"Excellent work, John," Alex said, patting his head. John's tail wagged like a trono gone wild.
Alex chuckled and approached a Goblin, holding out the lump of Refined Iron. "Where did this co from?"
The Goblin, pinned and partially buried, had no choice but to answer. "We... dug it up..."
"You dug it up... like *this*?" Refined Iron, ready-made?
"No! We dug up rocks! The Dwarves... they forged it."
Dwarves... "You're in cahoots with Dwarves?"
"No! Just... trading."
"Where do you dig these rocks? Where's your tribe?" Alex pressed. "How many? Highest level? Rank?"
The Goblin hesitated. John applied pressure.
"Agh! I'll tell you!"
"John, ease up."
"Yes, Master."
The Goblin gasped for air.
"Talk! Or you beco fertilizer!" John growled.
"The rocks... they're from the mountains behind our tribe! 500 ters south, in the valley! 520 Goblins! Our chief is Level 18, Elite rank!"
Level 18, Elite... 36 in all stats. Arthur could handle that.
"Take to your tribe."
The Goblin whimpered. "W-what are you going to do?"
"Just... borrowing a few things."
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