The sun had just risen, and the morning mist was beginning to clear.
Gauss stood at the village gate, in front of the signpost.
He was here to see Hailier and the others off.
Inside the village’s only cart, Bell and Mia lay unconscious, resting in the wagon bed. Hailier sat with them, pressing cool towels to their burning foreheads.
She wasn’t planning to take her injured teammates back to Grayrock Town.
While Grayrock was a hub for adventurers, its dical facilities were nothing compared to the major cities. And the journey back from Birchwood was long and rough.
Instead, they had decided to head toward the nearby forest city of Barry—their hotown—where treatnt would be better and imdiate.
“Adventurer, we’re ready to go,” the cart driver called from up front.
“You sure you don’t need to co with you?” Gauss asked, glancing at the cart.
“No worries. Once we hit the main road to Barry, we’ll be fine—it’s usually busy and safe,” Hailier replied, her expression tired and drained.
Still, she managed a small, weary smile at his concern.
“Besides, you’ve got cleanup to do here, right? Finishing the commission report, all that. We’re counting on you.” She gave him a wink, her eyes filled with a quiet curiosity.
Her impression of Gauss had changed drastically.
At first, she thought he was just a broke rookie adventurer. When he first asked to join their party, her instinct was to turn him down.
After a bit of interaction, she pegged him as a lucky novice who had stumbled onto magic—soone who had talent but lacked the resources and background to go far.
But now?
She didn’t know what to make of him.
Even with her limited experience, she could tell—Gauss was different.
“Gauss, if you ever co to Barry, look for at the Golden Beak Trading Company in the west district. I’ll treat you to a proper welco—Bell and Mia will too.”
“If I get the chance, I’ll stop by.” Gauss nodded.
Though for now, he planned to stay near Grayrock a while longer.
“Alright then. Ti to go.”
“Next ti we et… who knows, you might be soone important by then.”
Hailier smiled at him and waved.
“Safe travels!”
Gauss waved back, watching as the wagon slowly rolled off into the distance. The girl with chestnut curls disappeared beyond the dirt road’s bend.
In less than three days, their team had disbanded.
There was no telling if they’d ever et again.
This world didn’t have phones or the internet. Ordinary people couldn’t keep in touch easily. A goodbye could very well be forever.
The morning breeze stirred Gauss’s hair as he turned and walked back into the village.
He didn’t feel particularly sentintal—they’d only known each other for a few days.
But they were good people. People he’d gladly call friends.
He planned to stay in the village for one more day, a decision the villagers warmly welcod.
In this world, ordinary folk often held a deep reverence for mages.
Unlike warriors whose strength was visible, a mage’s power was mysterious and intangible—unseen but deeply felt. People respected what they couldn’t understand.
But Gauss wasn’t staying to soak up their admiration or enjoy the food.
He needed the rest.
And more importantly, he needed to collect the loot.
There were goblin ears to cut for the bounty. The commission form needed the village chief’s signature. And the battlefield was full of scattered weapons and gear.
He made his way back to the site of the battle alone.
The blood had dried. The stench, after a full night of ferntation, was worse than ever.
Choking back nausea, he began searching the clearing outside the cave.
Stone and wooden weapons were worthless and took up space. Not worth collecting.
But iron? Even broken pieces could fetch money at a blacksmith’s.
He gathered 2 short swords, 4 daggers, and the biggest prize: the massive cleaver used by the hobgoblin.
Unfortunately, its leather armor was torn beyond salvage—patched, slashed, and bloodied. Sha. That could’ve sold well.
Still, while carefully inspecting the body, he found sothing unexpected:
Around the hobgoblin’s neck hung a rough green stone, glowing faintly with an inner light.
It was no bigger than a peanut, but pulsed with a soothing energy.
He didn’t know what it was, but he knew it was valuable.
Given the hobgoblin’s abnormal size, it probably had sothing to do with this.
After finishing outside, Gauss turned toward the cave.
Torch in hand, he stepped inside.
Even during the day, the cave was dark, the air thick with the stench of rot and urine.
Slimy green moss covered the walls. Rats scurried past his feet. The place was foul—barely livable.
The goblins clearly didn’t care about sanitation.
“Ugh...” he muttered, dodging a puddle of filth.
At the back of the cave, he found a larger chamber.
Bones were piled everywhere. Flies buzzed. Worms and maggots writhed. Rats nested in the corners.
In the middle was a stone pot sitting atop charred wood.
The fire was cold. Inside the pot was a bubbling, viscous mix of… sothing.
Gauss’s stomach turned.
It seed like, before the ambush, the goblins had been celebrating—maybe even over the capture of the two won.
Instead, their party turned into a funeral pyre.
Among the junk scattered around, one thing stood out: a goblin corpse hanging from the wall.
Its body was larger than normal, but smaller than the hobgoblin’s.
It hadn’t been dead long.
“What’s this…?” Gauss frowned, lifting his torch.
From what he knew, goblins rarely killed their own—especially not under a strong leader.
But rival tribes? That was different.
Suddenly, sothing clicked.
He slapped his forehead.
The intel error. That was it.
This cave must have been the site of an earlier goblin conflict.
The hobgoblin had probably killed the forr leader—who ruled over 7 or 8 goblins—and rged the tribes, growing the force to nearly 20.
That explained everything: the sudden aggression, the increased numbers, the shift in behavior.
Now that he understood, Gauss let out a long sigh.
“Figures. Just my luck.”
If this hadn’t happened, if it had just been 8 goblins, their team could’ve wiped them out with ease.
The mission wouldn’t have been such a brutal ss.
He could only hope that Bell and Mia would recover.
Still, Gauss had learned sothing.
This wasn’t the guild’s fault. It was a harsh reminder that intel could be wrong.
Next ti? He’d be more careful. Always verify things with his own eyes.
With loot packed full—he had no idea how much it would sell for—he made his way back to the village.
After resting for another night...
Gauss set off once again, heading back to Grayrock Town.
He had weapons to sell. Money to make. Gear to upgrade.
He was a mage—yet didn’t even own a proper wand.
That needed to change.
And he still had much to learn.
About spells.
About magic.
About what it really ant to beco... a true adventurer.
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