Cornell couldn’t help but frown.
It wasn’t that the number of enemies exceeded their capacity to handle, but rather...
The Bear Goblins with a Challenge Level of merely "one," plus some green-skinned foot soldiers.
Even if their numbers were increased to three digits, any member of their team could easily handle them.
And the Association wouldn’t offer a high bounty just for these little minions.
"Let’s clear them out first."
Realizing there was no chance to bypass the enemy and proceed further, Cornell signaled his teammates to attack.
And then... it was a complete rout.
The scrawny goblins, whose physical strength was inferior to even the livestock in the pasture, faced high-level professionals advancing towards "Transcendent."
There was no possibility of resistance.
The Fine Sword swung gently, with a fierce airflow brushing past, and over a dozen goblins fell to the ground.
As for those two Bear Goblins...
To them, they were no different from ordinary goblins.
Each one’s head was twisted off by the Half orc with both hands.
In a matter of seconds, Cornell only stood on the sidelines, casting two "Magic Missiles," while the human warrior beside him didn’t even move, and the battle was over.
"This is strange, we’ve been on the road for five days... and this is it?"
Cleaning the remaining bloodstains from the sword with a bandage, the Golden haired Elf also noticed the same peculiarity.
"But, for Volga, simple."
The Half orc casually wiped the blood from his hands onto a nearby stone wall and spoke at the right time.
It seemed that by the feel of tearing apart the opponent’s body, he judged that the two Bear Goblins were slightly stronger than their counterparts.
But when asked exactly how much stronger, he could only mumble a few words of Beastman slang, unable to articulate it.
"However, I remember Bear Goblins generally do not live in groups after reaching adulthood and leaving the tribe."
"Unless... there was a stronger leader uniting their tribe."
The Golden haired Elf glanced at the two Bear Goblin corpses on the ground and analyzed.
"Indeed, otherwise the adventurer association wouldn’t offer such a high bounty." Cornell took out the compass from his pocket, "The task isn’t over yet, don’t let your guard down."
Sure enough, the compass needle remained perfectly still, pointing in one direction.
The needle pointed directly to an entrance leading deeper within the nest.
The battle with the goblins had already exposed them.
They no longer concealed their movements.
The team quickened their pace, continuing deeper into the cave.
As the path underfoot grew wider and smoother, torches began to light up the passage on the stone walls.
They finally arrived at their ultimate destination.
A massive cave as open as a plaza, yet eerily quiet.
The stone walls around it were riddled with caves of varying sizes, faint outlines and shadows moving within them.
Yet it seemed as if some invisible wall kept those shadows in place, not daring to step out.
So that within the entire cave, the only thing visible to them was a hunched figure draped in a black robe, and...
"What on earth is that!?"
As if witnessing something unbelievable, the Golden haired Elf’s pupils contracted, and she couldn’t refrain from speaking.
In the center of the nest, atop an altar made of unknown pale rock.
Shrouded in a dense and pungent blood red light.
——An elliptical phantom.
The Red haired Bear Goblins left the Mist Forest to seek blood sacrifices from human villages.
Finally completing the last bit of the sacrificial process.
So that the divine blessing from the far-off Divine Country beyond the Material Realm, the godsend of the goblin main god "Magrubie," finally descended upon the world.
It was a low-frequency hum akin to energy colliding intensely in a mentor’s laboratory.
Entirely crafted from pure, flawless silver-white metal, that kind of utterly pure and bizarre material—was definitely not mere refined gold or Mithril.
Its surface was etched with strange branch-like runes, meticulously arranged, with glowing bluish light flowing through the grooves in a rhythmic pulsing, as if breathing.
A craftsmanship aesthetic melding "desecration" and "precision" into one, a graceful curve like a tear-shaped drop of the Divine...
Something Cornell had never seen in his decades as a mage.
Upon witnessing this elliptical iron sphere, he even harbored an absurd yet real speculation in his heart.
It was an artifact from the Otherworld.
The iron sphere hummed and hovered in mid-air, gently spinning.
As if possessing some vortex-like invisible energy, caused tiny pebbles on the ground and sticky blood in the altar to defy Gravity’s pull.
Forming a swirling vortex around the iron sphere, orbiting slowly and steadily.
Energy ripples, imperceptible to ordinary people, surged through the air.
The end of the Magic Wand struck the ground abruptly, fingers gripping the staff too tightly, veins protruding.
Gritting his teeth, sweat beading on his forehead.
As if enduring some invisible pressure, Cornell bent forward, his expression pained and struggling.
Somehow, as the iron sphere hovered and spun, the energy ripples brushed across his face.
He felt as if his physical body suddenly became immeasurably heavier!