The outskirts of Mist Forest, at a certain goblin nest.
Crystal-clear blood refracts the pus-green light emitted by the fungi, dropping and creating a fine ripple on the blood.
The terrifying shrieks echoing between the stone walls now only leave a semblance of illusory echoes, and the excited, twisted howls have dissipated into nothingness.
The air is still filled with a dirty, unpleasant stench, yet compared to before, it carries even more intense bloodiness.
This is a goblin community with a population as high as twenty-three.
Even without the presence of an elite individual.
These lowly and inferior bottom-level demons still rely on their inherently primal hunting instincts inherited from deep within their bloodlines, attacking in groups with near-maniacal aggression, and with an exaggerated breeding capability akin to another species, they maintain a foothold within the dangerous Mist Forest.
Bark, grass roots, wild fruits, mushrooms, ordinary beasts, careless adventurers... their broad diet and insect-beast-like tenacious vitality allow them to survive as long as there is something to eat.
With biological characteristics seemingly designed for survival and reproduction, goblins proliferate and strengthen, akin to those disgusting and omnipresent mosquitoes, flies, and cockroaches.
On the surface, you may only see one, yet their nest quietly breeds in the darkness, spreading to every unnoticed corner.
To some extent, the twenty-plus green-skinned goblins, if the timing is right and the environment is suitable, already possess the capability to raid human caravans.
And if a leader elite individual like an "Earth Goblin" were to appear, their number and actual combat power would rapidly multiply in geometric proportions.
Letting them develop unchecked, even small human villages with guards might face their threat.
However, right now, at least this goblin community no longer holds such possibilities.
As though ravaged by some sharp weapon, fragmented limbs with clean cuts, braincase fragments wrapped in red and white viscous fluid, blinding blood, and writhing entrails.
Almost cover the entire cave.
The aura of death seems almost tangible.
"Screech... screech..."
Amidst the silence, a sharp and pain-laden howl suddenly arises.
Legs off the ground, muscles atrophied, emaciated limbs convulsively thrash and struggle like dry branches;
In the desire-filled, savage blood-red eyes, only deep despair and fear remain.
A two-handed longsword glinting with iron-gray metal light runs through the goblin’s chest.
Like a spear, it pinions it firmly to the hard stone wall.
Blood continuously flows from the wound.
Not far in front of this goblin.
On a stone slightly cleaner than the muddy, dirty ground of the cave.
Sits a sharp-featured, black-haired young man with a wooden sword on his back.
The solid and thick links of the chain armor are stained with the foul blood of goblins, but upon closer inspection, one could only find a few minor scratches on the surface, with no signs of penetrating the defense.
And if you looked further inside, beyond those dense overlapping metal chain links, one could find the intact and flexible leather armor beneath.
Faced with the goblin pinned to the wall before him, the young man does not show the expected maniacal smile of someone tormenting his enemy.
He simply keeps a tight expression, wholly focused, with unblinking eyes fixed on the droplets of blood flowing from the wound pierced by the sword blade through the goblin.
One second, two seconds, three seconds...
It’s unclear how much time has passed.
Until the goblin’s limb struggles diminish and its howls gradually soften.
Finally, its head droops, completely losing consciousness and lapsing into unconsciousness.
Only then does vitality re-emerge in the young man’s eyes.
He exhaled a silent sigh.
Xia Nan stood up, stepped forward, and withdrew the Beheading Longsword from the stone wall with one hand.
Brandishing the sword in a simple flourish, he flicked off the blood on the blade and sheathed it.
Without the support of the blade, the goblin pinned to the wall also falls to the ground.
Drawing a short-bladed dagger with a cold gleam from his waist.
Xia Nan bent down, first delivering two more stabs to the green-skinned goblin to confirm it had completely died.
Then, skillfully stepped on its skull, used the dagger to cut off its left ear, and stuffed it into the bulging trophy bag, stained with blood, hanging at his back.
Performing such a behavior is, of course, not to torment the goblin or vent certain emotions.
These goblins act like beasts on a daily basis and can barely utter a few words in the Universal Language, torturing them further holds no meaning.