Of course, fear was still there. Beam thought it always would be. But now he had the skills to easily overcome battles – he felt he had more room to move and try things out.
He plucked up one of the discarded goblin bows from the ground. It was about half the size of the bows that he was used to. But upon pulling back the twisted cordage that served as its string, he found that it still held a considerable amount of tension.
"These are well made…" he murmured. He'd known it already, but the state of such weapons – weapons that they had clearly made themselves – showed just how dangerous these horned goblins would be.
They'd shown the barest glimmerings of instinctual battle tactics as well – even ambushing him at the start. Had he been a lesser man, as soon as they managed to catch him unawares as they did and send him flying, then he would certainly be dead by now.
"Hm… What to do?" Beam murmured to himself as he twirled his sword in thought.
The mountains were a mess now, by the looks of things. There was a far greater danger than he was used to. The question then, was just how far did that danger extend? How many of these monsters could he expect to come through?
Beam bit his lip in frustration, because there was no way of easily answering that question. He was already nearly done with his morning patrol route. Would cycling back for another lap ensure that no monsters managed to make it to the lower village? He wasn't sure.
"It's worth a try at least," Beam murmured. But even from what minimal experience he had in strategy, he knew that merely addressing the same problem over and over and dealing with it reactively – that wasn't a good long-term plan. So far, he knew nothing of what was causing these anomalies. Nor did he know if it would get worse.
The very thought of it worsening sent a shiver down his spine.
"I need more hands," he decided. There was too much ground to cover alone. At the very least, he needed to figure out some way to garner the information that he needed. There was Greeves, of course – and that was about the only hope he had.
But Beam was lying if he said he didn't feel more than a little suspicious of the village Elder. Of course, he had no proof, other than the strange chill that went through him every time he set eyes on the man. Yet how could he possibly be influencing the spawn of monsters? Were they not creatures that even the Gods struggled to control?
He recalled what Dominus had told him back when he had first started hunting goblins. That monsters were the result of negative residue – a residue that the Gods were able to shape and twist and make into monstrous forms. The more negative residue there was in an area – say from war or famine or the like – the more likely there were to be monsters.
Yet there had not been a significant increase in any sort of negative activity around Solgrim – nothing that would induce such a rise in monster population. Besides, Dominus had continually hinted that there was something behind all this, or someone.
Clenching his fist, Beam resolved to gather information. He glanced at the horned goblin corpses at his feet, briefly wondering how much more they would sell for than the regular goblins.
He hefted them up, despite his hurry and carried them back to the designated drop point that he had worked out with Judas – an old animal burrow with a rocky opening and more than enough space inside for several corpses. Once he placed them inside, he rolled a larger rock back in front of the hole, before tossing a few sticks against it to make it seem more inconspicuous.
Then, he did another lap of his usual morning route, searching for yet more disturbances. Despite the chill in the air and more fleeing animals, he did not find any more monsters.
It was getting into the early afternoon by the time Beam made it to the outside of Greeves' house. He sucked in a breath and knocked at the door.
Even after a few moments of waiting, there was no answer. Beam frowned – it was unusual for Judas to take so long. He glanced behind him. There was no sign of the merchant or the bodyguard inside the market square, so he assumed at least one of them must have been in.
He knocked again, this time a little harder.
The door shifted this time, from the increased force of his fist, and the heavy slab of wood creaked on its hinges.
"It's not even locked?" Beam murmured, eyeing the handle. He narrowed his eyes, feeling the hairs on the back of his head stand up. With the state of the monsters in the forest, he was far more on edge than normal. He felt a bad feeling in his gut.
He glanced behind him once more, to check to see if anyone was watching, and then he cautiously pawed the door open, stepping inside.
His feet booted feat sounded far too heavy on the wooden floorboards for his liking. His sword was sheathed as his hip, but after gently closing the door, his hand found its way to the hilt.
He looked up the stairs as he slowly crept forward in a crouch, looking for sounds of life.
"THAT BASTARD!" He heard a shout from deeper within the house followed by the sound of something smashing. His shoulders eased up slightly, as he recognized Greeves' unmistakable voice.
He breathed a sigh of relief. Even though it certainly sounded like something had happened, at least the merchant's anger offered an end to the tension.
Beam stepped into the dining room and called out towards Greeves' office. "This a bad time, merchant?"
The door was already half open, and the heated conversation that was going on inside paused in response to his voice. There was a moment of quiet, before a woman poked her head out of the door, a distressed look on her face.