The Goblin Ambush and the Jealous Demon Lord

Goblins, small, savage creatures, were utterly hairless. Their heads bore slender, pointed ears and long, awl-like noses. Their eyes protruded, and their teeth were sharp, characteristic of carnivores.

Typically, the goblins of Loran Forest would raid nearby villages after dark, stealing livestock and provisions, and even abducting humans. Consequently, a defensive line had been erected at the forest’s edge to repel their incursions.

While nascent goblins possessed green skin, the collapse of the Demon Lord’s realm after her demise had unleashed scattered demonic energy upon the human world. Even these weak monsters had gradually begun to change.

Roland pulled his rusted katana from the chest of a fallen goblin, its greasy blood oozing out like melted cheese.

He touched his injured shoulder, still reeling from the shock of the goblin’s sneak attack moments earlier.

Fortunately, Freya’s Whirlwind Slash had swiftly severed the creature’s head.

“For your first battle, you performed exceptionally well,” the Sage’s Stone commended. “Continue this path, and awaken the instincts buried deep within your memory.”

Roland took a deep breath, severing the goblin’s ears and hands before placing them into the basket on his back. He then cautiously advanced across the slippery, blood-soaked grass.

Freya trailed silently behind him, her expression inexplicably laced with concern. After a short while, she proactively called out to Roland.

“The plants ahead look different,” she noted, pointing towards the trees that grew significantly taller and denser than those behind them. “I sense a remarkably potent demonic aura there.”

Roland halted as well, turning to inquire, “Was Loran Forest always like this?”

“That depends on which era of Loran Forest you’re asking about,” Freya replied, crossing her arms over her chest. “Before humans arrived, the Loran Forest teemed with countless creatures that rarely ventured beyond its borders.

However, with the advent of humans, the forest trees were relentlessly felled, stripping these creatures of their habitats. Many beings that had resided in Loran Forest for generations were forced to abandon their homes.

Yet, some, unwilling to leave, remained. Among these, the more intelligent species actively resisted humans, such as goblins and minotaurs.”

Freya frowned slightly. “In truth, they aren’t entirely unintelligent. Creatures capable of using tools, constructing camps, and attacking humans should arguably be considered intelligent beings.”

As Roland processed this information, he used his blade to clear a path forward.

“So, in that case, it was humans attacking goblins, rather than goblins attacking humans, wouldn’t you say?”

“Whatever. I just think it’s great if all the goblins die out,” Freya said, her eyes glinting as she began to conjure an emotion.

“Why?”

“Because they hurt you just now.” Freya placed her hand on his shoulder, casting the Elementary Healing Spell: Slow Regeneration.

Feeling a wave of warmth spread through his shoulder, Roland noticed the wound’s pain begin to subside.

‘Oh, this little Demon Lord is quite the charmer. I wonder where she learned it.’

‘If I hadn’t gained some memories through the Sage’s Stone that night, I might have truly fallen into her trap.’

‘Actually, she looks quite endearing in this state…’

‘No, no, she used to be a man. I can’t be so indiscriminate.’

Shaking his head, Roland vigorously tried to clear the jumbled thoughts from his mind, only to suddenly notice an open clearing ahead.

After taking a few more steps, Roland’s eyes widened.

It was a goblin camp!

This was a fully equipped goblin encampment, laid out in a relatively standard square. Its perimeter was fortified by chevaux de frise made of sharp, pointed wooden stakes.

Only a very narrow opening was left between the barriers, small enough for only a goblin-sized individual to pass through, effectively defending against massed enemy charges.

At each of the four corners of the camp’s edge stood a crudely constructed watchtower, several meters high. Each tower housed a throwing goblin, whose basket was filled with meticulously polished round stones.

Inside the camp, squat wooden huts, resembling burial mounds, had a single opening for entry and exit. Beside the huts, goblins had cultivated simple, hardy plants that could be used for making herbal remedies.

In the center of the camp stood a tall platform made of wooden stakes, upon which a crude cross held a beautiful young woman captive.

Below the platform, a circle of goblins sang and danced, their raucous, gibberish noises filling the air.

“What are they doing?” Roland whispered, a thrill in his voice. “That girl is incredibly beautiful.”

‘Is that the main point?!

You idiot Hero, do you just stop dead in your tracks when you see a pretty girl?

I’ve been by your side for so long, and I’ve never seen you act like this.

Are you blind?’

Freya cast a scathing, contemptuous glance at Roland, as if she intended to flay strips of flesh from his face.

“They’re likely performing a sacrifice, offering their spoils to their deity. After the preliminary rituals, they’ll proceed to the next step—perhaps burning her, boiling her, or swarming her to eat her. I’m not entirely sure; goblin sacrificial practices vary by region.”

After explaining, Freya found herself unable to resist adding, “Is that girl more attractive than me?”

“So that’s it… huh?” Roland paused, then let out a chuckle. “Of course, you’re more beautiful.”

“Then why were you still looking?”

“I’m not looking anymore; I’ve confirmed it.” Roland took out the quest scroll he had received at the Elven Line, opening it to reveal a portrait. “This is the girl.”

****

Freya’s face instantly flushed crimson, making her wish for a hole to crawl into.

Roland had accepted three quests at the Elven Line:

1. Collect 30 goblin ears.

2. Collect 30 goblin hand bones.

3. Locate the missing girl, Celia Krumine: silver-gray hair, red pupils, wearing a green top, white skirt, and tawny boots.

Roland’s gaze slowly shifted from the portrait to the distant platform, where more and more goblins were gathering, signaling the ritual was nearing its climax.

“Do you have a way to rescue that girl?”

“I’ll try.” Freya spread her hands, initially intending to unleash a [Blaze Spell], but then realized her flames differed from those of normal humans. After a moment of thought, she switched to another spell.

[Thunder Law: Thunder Light Chain]

Thunder elements converged in Freya’s hand, slowly forming a luminous sphere that, from the outside, seemed to contain gathering storm clouds and heavy rain.

She flicked her wrist forward, and the sphere transformed into a chain of lightning, streaking through the air. Blue and white light carved an arc, emitting a piercing crackle of electric discharge.

A deafening roar echoed through the camp as the four crudely built watchtowers collapsed and crumbled, as if plowed by a lightning strike. The electric arcs struck the thick wooden supports, carbonizing them, and the terrifying energy, unable to dissipate, erupted into a raging inferno.

The goblins within the camp uniformly turned their gazes outward, and upon seeing the magic that had annihilated their defenses, they shrieked. Some bolder ones ran to investigate, while the timider ones retreated to their huts. Others hesitated, conferring with their fellow goblins.

Freya’s face was pale, her chest heaving erratically.

Roland noticed her unusual state and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“My magic… it’s almost depleted.” She assessed her body, shaking her head. “This spell consumes a great deal of power; I might not be much help later.”

“I see…” Roland’s expression darkened as he tightened his grip on his weapon, then moved forward in a low crouch.

“Are you still going?”

“Those goblins seem quite weak; I think I can handle them,” Roland declared, hacking through a chevaux de frise blocking his path. “You wait back here. I’ll go take out some small goblins to let off some steam.”

Watching his retreating figure, Freya cursed inwardly, ‘What an idiot.’

‘Hmph, suit yourself.’

‘I can’t control you anyway. Go ahead and throw your life away if you want.’

‘But…’

‘If he dies now, wouldn’t all my painstaking efforts to cultivate this wise wife persona have been for nothing?’

‘Sigh… what a bother…’

‘Then again, he’s already Level 17, almost ready to level up. Dealing with a bunch of Level 3 goblins shouldn’t be a problem.’

‘Well, he is the Hero, after all…’

‘I shouldn’t overthink it. I should focus on recovering my magic as quickly as possible.’

Bending down to sit cross-legged and absorb the magical elements in the air to recover, Freya suddenly froze. On the empty ground nearby, she spotted an enormous footprint.

The center of the print was indented with a triangle, its protruding front edge somewhat sharp, while the remaining edges were slightly rounded.

‘This… it looks like a hoof print.’

‘What animal has such a large hoof print? In Loran Forest…’

Freya’s mind raced, meticulously searching through her memories.

‘”Among these, the more intelligent species actively resisted humans, such as goblins and minotaurs…”‘

‘Minotaurs!’

‘That’s a creature no lower than Level 15!’

‘No way, minotaurs usually don’t share habitats with goblins.’

“Tsk…” Freya’s heart sank. “This is troublesome…”

Pulling out the vampire’s essence, she gazed at it with great reluctance before closing her eyes and swallowing it.

“I had intended to absorb this properly, but now I can only use most of its energy to restore my magic. Oh, Hero, Hero, I’m sacrificing so much for you. How will you ever repay me?”

****

Blood and flesh constantly separated, bone and iron repeatedly clashed.

Goblins were inherently weak creatures. They possessed a trace of intelligence due to the minuscule amount of magic within their bodies. However, this very trace of magic often made them targets for novice adventurers seeking experience and magic absorption.

Nevertheless, a horde of goblins could be somewhat tricky. If they mustered enough courage to charge at a human with a target in mind, they could inflict significant damage.

But only *somewhat* tricky.

Roland felt as though he was born to wield these weapons; every movement seemed rehearsed a thousand times, each action strikingly familiar.

He glanced around, forcefully pulling his blade from a goblin’s body and shaking off the bloodstains.

No goblins remained in the vicinity. After sustaining several wounds—to his left shoulder, right leg, and forehead—he had slain the majority of them, while the remaining few had fled, at least temporarily abandoning the camp.

Dragging his injured leg, he climbed onto the high platform and untied the cloth gagging the girl.

The cloth was soaked with saliva, and Roland casually tossed it to the ground below.

“It’s alright, Celia. I was sent by the people from the Elven Line.”

He then cut away her ropes, and the girl, freed from her restraints, immediately collapsed into Roland’s arms.

A scent of wild forest flowers wafted from her.

“W-w-woo—Thank you, thank you!” Celia sobbed in his embrace. “I thought I was going to die, woo-woo!”

“It’s alright, it’s all over now.” Roland patted her back, gently comforting her. “Everyone at the Elven Line seemed very worried about you. Let’s head back quickly.”

“Mm! Thank you, thank you…” Celia wiped away the incessant tears streaming from her eyes. “Thank you, brave warrior! We must hurry back; I have very important information I need to tell our line’s commander!”

“Oh, alright.” Roland nodded, surmising that the information must be confidential, and thus refrained from asking further.

He leaped down from the platform in a few strides, but just as he was about to move forward, he noticed Celia hadn’t descended yet.

“Come down?”

“I… I…” Celia’s face was flushed crimson, and she pursed her lips in embarrassment. “It’s too high… I’m scared…”

‘Seriously, this platform isn’t even two meters tall…’

Roland extended his arms upwards. “I’ll catch you; just come down without worry.”

“Then I’m… coming down.” Celia mustered her courage and leaped forward.

Celia’s body wasn’t heavy, perhaps only a few dozen pounds, or so Roland perceived as he caught her. However, he had clearly forgotten about the injury to his right leg.

He felt his right leg give way, and he stumbled backward, falling to the ground with a thud, still holding Celia.

Thankfully, he had caught her steadily, and the girl in his arms was unharmed.

“I’m sorry…” Celia looked at Roland with an apologetic expression. “Warrior, are you alright?”

Her face was incredibly close, allowing him a clear view of her elf-like delicate features: long, narrow eyelashes that fluttered downwards like butterflies, red pupils that shone like dazzling jewels, a graceful yet not overly prominent nose bridge that made her appear dignified and unthreatening, and soft, pink lips that resembled cheese. For some reason, the breath exhaled from her mouth seemed to carry a faint fragrance…

‘It smells like wild forest flowers…’

Roland’s chest was pressed against a pair of soft objects. He felt his entire body stiffen, his heart thumping wildly.

Every muscle in his body seemed to seize up.

“Hey! We need to be careful; it seems there’s—” Freya, arriving breathless and drenched in sweat, abruptly choked on the words about to escape her throat. Her mouth agape, her eyes wide as saucers, she stared in disbelief at the scene before her.

One second later, she turned around, maintaining the same expression.

Another second later, she advanced like an emotionless robot.

“Hey! Where are you going?” Roland quickly got up and called out to Freya.

“Home! I’m afraid I’ll hinder your performance.” Freya channeled all her magic and punched an innocent large tree beside her. “I’m leaving!”

The innocent tree began to crack from the point of impact, the fissure slowly spreading throughout its trunk with a tearing sound. Soon, it snapped in half and collapsed, utterly lifeless.

Roland wanted to chase after her and explain, but the injury to his right leg made him break into a cold sweat with every step. He could only watch as Freya walked further and further away.

‘No, this is too melodramatic. How could something like this happen to me?’

“This is absurd…” Roland muttered, propping himself up with the katana plunged into the ground, his mouth twitching. “This… this is utterly absurd…”

“Uh…” Celia stepped forward, supporting the injured Roland. “I’m sorry, that big sister seems to have misunderstood something.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Roland waved his hand dismissively. “You don’t need to mind her.”

‘Sigh, I don’t know what’s wrong with this little Demon Lord. Isn’t she just pretending to be my wife? This jealousy act is too convincing, though.’

‘An Oscar wouldn’t be enough for her; she’d need two.’

‘Also, I can’t shake this feeling of guilt, like I’ve been caught cheating by my wife at home.’

‘This… I don’t know how I’m going to explain it to her when we get back… Do I even need to explain it to her?’

‘Uh… yes, I probably do. After all, the act has to continue.’

Roland found a reason for himself, preparing to go back and properly explain things to Freya.

‘Yes, I definitely need to explain it properly!’