Chapter 8: The Small Village in the Forest (1)

After safely completing his first real battle, Zion encountered goblin groups several times over the following days.  

Sometimes, he even came across them twice in a single day.  

No matter how he looked at it, the number of monsters was overwhelming.  

“Seeing goblins roaming around like they own the place, it’s easy to imagine what state the forest must be in.”  

Goblins.

Though small in stature, their strength often exceeded that of an average adult.

Combined with their sharp, agile movements, a well-trained elite soldier was roughly equivalent in combat power to a single goblin.  

They always traveled in packs.  

Their intelligence was primitive but enough to use traps and tools.  

They had a cunning persistence in targeting their prey’s weaknesses.  

All of this was threatening, but the most dangerous trait was their explosive reproduction rate.  

In the Aleph Tactical Manual that Zion had studied, there was even a case where a goblin pair—just one male and one female—grew into more than a hundred in a month.  

Because of this, the only effective method was to send out troops immediately upon discovery and scour the surrounding area to exterminate them completely.  

If not stopped early, the damage would spread uncontrollably through civilian areas.  

“If their numbers increase, the army will take care of it. No need to worry too much.”  

Although he said that, the likelihood of everything going smoothly was low.  

Putting aside the countless goblins everywhere, the bigger problem was the monster that had destroyed the fortress.  

Fortunately, Zion hadn’t arrogantly insisted on going to defeat that monster himself.  

Whether he had no intention or was simply restraining himself was unclear.  

‘If we can just get out of the forest safely, that would be the best outcome.’  

Frey did not let his guard down.  

His concern wasn’t about anything else—it was Zion’s mental state that was precarious.  

“Hnghh……”  

During the day, Zion acted calm at first glance, but every night he suffered from nightmares and torment.  

Both the assassin incident and what happened at the fortress left deep scars on his heart.  

‘I can’t just let him walk into a pointless death. No matter how painful, he has to endure it now, Zion.’  

During the journey, Frey analyzed Zion’s powers in his own way.  

He focused on Zion as an Awakened.  

Perhaps because Zion was a hybrid between an Earthling and someone from another dimension, he was very different from the Awakened Frey knew.  

‘MP absorption rate.’  

When an Awakened defeats a monster, the amount of MP absorbed directly is only a small fraction of the total.

The rest scatters into the air.  

Zion’s absorption rate was several times higher than that of an average Awakened.  

‘This must be due to his own aptitude and the Pendant’s assistance.’  

In Frey’s eyes, Zion’s compatibility with the Pendant was almost excessive.  

Without the Pendant, his absorption rate wouldn’t have been this high.  

Thanks to this, he was able to win from his very first real battle, which was a good thing.  

‘Next… his trait. I’m not so sure about this one.’  

Awakened possess a representative ability that they can use from the moment of awakening.  

For example, Frey’s overwhelming talent in Black Magic was exactly that.  

Every Awakened grows based on their “trait.”  

Zion, however, didn’t have anything like that.  

If anything, there was one trait he had.  

From a certain point, his sense of smell became extremely sensitive, allowing him to detect monsters—or more precisely, the scent of MP.  

But to Frey, this was somewhat different from a “trait.”  

It was closer to a person becoming skilled at something unknown through training and mastery.  

Just like a soccer player isn’t only good at soccer, but can also become adept at other sports through steady effort.  

Of course, in reality, that would take a long time, but in Zion’s case, the Pendant helped accelerate that mastery.  

‘He’s a lucky guy in many ways. His own talent, the years of effort he put in, and the Pendant’s help. Without any one of these, he wouldn’t have become this strong so fast.’  

Perhaps having no apparent trait was a trait in itself.  

Frey knew of exactly one Awakened like that.  

Naia.  

‘If that’s really true… and Zion still hasn’t found meaning in his strength and just wants rest? Then I won’t be able to stop him.’  

Having traveled together for several days, Frey had seen too much of Zion’s suffering.  

Still, he couldn’t help but regret that such power would go to waste without blossoming.  

‘I hope something triggers him… but nothing too dangerous, something safe.’  

Frey’s small wish was unexpectedly fulfilled—though in a direction he never wanted.  

“This is……”  

While moving through the forest, Zion happened upon a path.  

It was too wide and solidly maintained to be used by animals.  

Most of all, it was cleverly hidden so it wouldn’t be easily discovered.  

[Looks like someone lives nearby. This is maddening, seriously.]  

Frey muttered as he unconsciously rubbed his forehead.  

***

The village had no name.  

Similarly, Nate, a girl born and raised in the village, had no complicated family name.  

Everyone in the village was the same.  

So Nate had never once thought that was strange.  

Nate’s world was very small and limited.  

The village elders repeatedly warned how terrifying the “outside” was.  

The village and the surrounding forest were the only safe places for Nate and the villagers.  

Beyond that were monsters that could swallow people whole, bandits who killed indiscriminately and stole food, and slave traders who caught people alive and sold them cheaply.  

Nate believed this was the truth.  

At least, until that afternoon.  

Rustle.  

At the sound of something stepping on the bushes, Nate, who was forlornly looking at an empty trap that hadn’t caught anything, suddenly lifted her head.  

At first, she thought she had misheard, but no.  

The sound grew closer and closer.  

It wasn’t the noise of an animal, but something much larger, made by a creature walking on two legs.  

Jumping to her feet, Nate anxiously scanned her surroundings.  

It couldn’t be a villager—this was the closest place to the “outside,” and the sound came from that direction.  

So it could be bandits, or worse, slave traders, or the worst case—a monster.  

‘I-I have to run!’  

Her mind sounded alarms, but her legs betrayed her, stiffening so she couldn’t move.  

The sounds came steadily and quickly.  

In an instant, tears welled up in the young girl’s eyes.  

“Ah, damn it.”  

A strange man’s voice that Nate had never heard before reached her ears.  

“Thank goodness. So it hasn’t been attacked yet…”  

“Waaaahhh!”  

Unable to hold back, the girl burst into tears.  

“Sniff, please don’t eat me…! I’m too small and scrawny to taste good, sniff! I have no money even if you sell me, and nothing valuable either…! Hic, waaahhh!”  

Just as he pushed aside the bushes and revealed himself, Zion froze with a dumbfounded expression.  

“Mom! Dad!”  

“Wait, hold on!”  

The crying girl spun around and ran away.  

Zion, having just recovered his senses, hurriedly tried to stop her but she was already gone, disappearing between the bushes without looking back.  

Watching for a moment, Zion’s expression suddenly froze.  

“The scent of monsters… the child is in danger!”  

[Damn it. Run now!]

Before Frey could finish speaking, Zion took off at full speed.  

Catching up to the small figure was not difficult.  

It was the same for the monsters.  

Just as Zion lunged to snatch up the child in his arms, a goblin emerged from the bushes wielding a crude stone axe.  

“…..”  

Twisting his body midair, Zion hurriedly drew his sword with one hand and swung.  

His grip slipped off the hilt from the lack of force, but the stone axe narrowly missed his face by only a few centimeters.  

Twisting again, he landed safely on both feet and quickly scanned his surroundings.  

There was only one goblin—both visible and by scent, that was all.  

‘It’s too reckless to fight a whole group while protecting the child. I’ll kill this one quickly and get out before the others realize.’  

The goblin sneered, twisting its face in disgust as if seeing Zion, now disarmed, as easy prey.  

Zion was grateful.  

Feeling the child’s body heat in his arms, Zion’s body shot forward like a cannonball.  

“-Keh!?!”  

Startled, the goblin’s eyes widened as it raised the stone axe.  

Zion’s knee struck its philtrum.  

With a chilling crack, the goblin’s face was crushed and it tumbled backward.  

Without hesitation, Zion stomped on its neck, crushing the bones, then fell sideways, smashing his elbow into its chest.  

The upper body caved in under the force and acceleration, and the goblin coughed up blood, writhing.  

Finally, Zion picked up the nearby stone axe and split the goblin’s head.  

As the creature ceased moving, the familiar MP absorption phenomenon occurred.  

Even after confirming the monster’s death, Zion kept his tension high, holding his breath and focusing his senses.  

There was no sign of other goblins approaching.  

He could neither see nor smell any.  

Zion finally relaxed enough to straighten his back.  

[…Unbelievable. Weren’t you supposed to be a swordsman?]

Frey, still dazed from the abruptly over, hopeless battle, finally snapped back to reality.  

“Well… yeah. The sword is just the weapon I’m most familiar with.”  

Frey’s heart sank when Zion dropped his sword.  

A swordsman losing his blade was like a magic user without MP—powerless.  

All the more surprising was what came next.  

Not a single attack showed hesitation.  

He was so skilled he instinctively executed optimal moves.  

This was proof of a level attained through long training in hand-to-hand combat, much like his swordsmanship.  

‘The Count’s Mansion really missed out on a huge gem.’  

A mix of pity and scorn briefly crossed Frey’s face before fading.  

They probably couldn’t choose an heir who might die anytime due to weakness.  

But the responsibility for discarding a raw diamond they couldn’t recognize was theirs alone.  

“Being a swordsman doesn’t mean you only have to use swords. Weapons are consumables; you never know when they’ll break and become unusable. Whether I have a sword or not, I was taught from a young age that I have to be able to handle at least one person’s worth of combat.”  

“Sniff… waahhh…”  

“Oh, right.”  

Only then did Zion realize he was still holding the child.  

He tried to set her down, but the child grabbed onto his clothes and clung even tighter.  

She must have been very scared.  

Zion gently stroked her head, careful not to startle her.  

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”  

The child didn’t answer.  

But after a moment’s pause, she nodded her head buried in his chest.  

“That’s good. I’m glad.”  

“T-Thank you… sniff… thank you so much.”  

The child finally stopped crying and looked up, her voice barely audible.  

It was the most precious thank-you Zion had ever heard.  

He smiled faintly for a moment, then carefully looked around and asked,  “Do you live around here?”  

“Yes, that’s right. I live here with the village elders.”  

“Then… can you guide me to the village?”  

A deep conflict flickered across the child’s face.  

Letting an outsider into the village was the greatest taboo.  

She would probably be severely scolded by the elders.  

The village elders were sometimes strangely obsessive and oppressive about the outside world.  

Her gaze shifted toward the goblin corpse lying nearby.  

Slowly, she looked back at Zion and nodded.  

“All right. I’ll show you the way.”  

The child chose to believe what she had seen with her own eyes.