yournovel Chapter 58 You are ultimately no match for our humble efforts.
Chapter 58 You are ultimately no match for our humble efforts.
Chapter 58 You are ultimately no match for our humble efforts.
In the misty forest, Don Quixote gripped the reins, the carriage rustling through the fallen leaves.
Don Quixote swayed from side to side in the driver's seat, the reins in his hands occasionally twitching, causing the two brown horses to snort lightly.
She would occasionally turn her head to look at Rhodes beside her, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Sir, which way should we go next?"
"Take the left fork in the road next time. That way we can switch lanes and take the gentle slope behind us, and the carriage will be more stable," Rod said without looking up.
At this moment, he had two maps spread out on his lap.
One was issued by the guild, and the paper was brand new; the other was drawn by himself, and the edges of the paper were already worn and frayed, and it was densely covered with various detailed markings.
Rod picked up his charcoal pencil and added some more markings to his map, muttering to himself in admiration.
"The guild's map information covers a really wide area, but unfortunately, many places are still not detailed enough —"
This expands the area available for exploration.
"By the way, we can walk faster on this section of the road," Rod said, looking up at the road and then down at the tire tracks on the dirt road.
Merchants and mercenaries used to travel this road year after year. Over time, the soil was compacted and densed by their constant footsteps. Since there were no loose mud or potholes to obstruct the road, it made it easy for carriages to pass.
"receive!"
Don Quixote immediately straightened his back, gave the reins a sharp tug, and the carriage sped up considerably.
Her hand remained on the hilt of her greatsword at her side, her fingers constantly stroking it, while she muttered incantations like a bard in a tavern, recounting her upcoming legendary adventure: "Heroic adventurers have arrived at a village ravaged by monsters, vowing to rescue the suffering civilians from the clutches of evil—"
"After a thrilling adventure, the heroes finally defeated the darkness, saved the village, and obtained the legendary treasure, bringing long-buried secrets back to light —"
Their legendary adventures will continue, and will be celebrated throughout the world—
Listening to her vivid description, Alina in the consciousness space couldn't help but sigh, "It's obvious that she really loves adventure stories; she can keep talking to herself even when no one is paying attention."
"It sounds like it's going to be a very interesting adventure," Rhodes murmured, engrossed in the conversation.
This thrilling storyline perfectly matches his longing for adventure.
"You actually listened to that?" Alina was speechless.
Inside the carriage, Milan presents a completely different scene.
"Tsk—"
She was half-sunken in the soft cushion, looking at the rolled-up top-secret document with some irritation.
Even the most solid dirt roads in the countryside can't avoid minor bumps, and combined with excessive mental exertion, the combination made her head spin.
"Did this lost family of mages really exist? Or was the information false?"
Milan put away the rolled-up parchment and couldn't help but sigh.
Based on her past experience, which mage's family doesn't have piles of documents? How could they not have left anything behind, let alone an entire mage family?
Even if their descendants decline and no one with magical talent can be found, they will still leave behind a wealth of written records and knowledge.
Whether those things were sold or stolen, there would always be some clues, but they could never just disappear without a trace.
What kind of mage would allow their painstaking research and inheritance to be lost?
Even the traces of its existence have completely vanished, leaving only this piece of information, its authenticity uncertain.
This place is so strange; it's said to have a family of mages, but you can hardly find any mages at all.
Thinking about the information the Adventurers' Guild had given her, Milan felt increasingly deceived.
Statistics show that very few of the native inhabitants of Misty City are fortunate enough to become mages, and even those who awaken their powers have little talent, resulting in a severe talent shortage.
Looking at Milan's slightly tired face, which was showing signs of deep thought, Susanna, who was sitting opposite her, gently advised, "Ms. Milan, why don't you take a rest? We'll find a clue eventually, there's no need to rush."
"Okay." Milan rubbed her temples, feeling a little exhausted, and casually stuffed the parchment scroll back into her pocket.
She turned her head to the side, lifted the curtain, and looked out the window.
Sunlight pierced through the dense forest, transforming into countless fine golden rays that scattered among the trees, while a gentle breeze carried the fragrance of earth and grass.
"Although Misty City is just a barren rural area, the scenery is quite nice, and the magic is refreshing." She propped her head up with one hand, watching the scenery rushing past, feeling the pleasant breeze on her face, and slowly closed her eyes.
The tranquility of the secluded suburbs, undisturbed by anyone, calmed her troubled mood somewhat.
Tap tap tap—
The carriage sped along, and the trees on both sides grew taller and more twisted as they went deeper into the area.
As time and the journey progressed, the colors in the forest gradually darkened, and a thin mist began to spread silently among the trees, dimming the surrounding light.
"Ms. Milan, is it just my imagination?" Susanna looked at Milan beside her and couldn't help but ask in a low voice, "I suddenly feel a little uneasy—"
"Hmm?" Milan, who had been resting with her eyes closed, opened them in confusion. Just as she was about to ask a question, the carriage suddenly stopped, almost causing her to hit her head.
Milan had just lifted the curtain to yell at someone when she heard the sound of horses neighing in alarm.
"law""
The two brown horses, which had been moving forward, suddenly snorted and their steps became noticeably hurried.
"Huh? Why are they suddenly so restless?" Don Quixote wondered, then reached out and touched them. "Could there be some terrifying monster nearby that has wandered into their territory?"
"No, we're almost near the village," Rhodes said, looking at the location on the map and the surrounding environment. "The trees are thinning out a bit, and there are signs of human activity here—"
Theoretically speaking, domesticated horses shouldn't be frightened by human tracks and smells; perhaps something else is startling them.
"You tremble with fear at the sight of these things. As warhorses, you have lost your pride and courage," Don Quixote said, trying to comfort them with disappointment.
"As expected, you are ultimately not the rare talents we can rely on—not companions to journey together." She gazed into the distance with a regretful tone.
"What's with this 'Nu Xin Nan De' thing?!" Alina couldn't help but complain in her consciousness space. "Don't just give other people's horses weird names like that."
Rod remained silent, gazing into the distance and constantly observing the surrounding movements.
Although the two horses were still able to move forward with Don Quixote's reassurance, their overall speed was much slower than before.
Further on, the fresh scent of earth in the air was gradually replaced by the pungent smell of excrement, and Rod could even detect a faint stench of decay.
The occasional clear birdsong gradually disappeared, and even the sunlight was torn into fragments by the intertwined branches overhead.
Just as Rhodes hesitated whether to stop, a deep and sharp roar suddenly came from the depths of the distant forest.
"Roar—!"
The sound was particularly piercing, coming from an unknown source, startling everyone.
"Hiss—!"
Upon hearing the sound, the two brown horses kicked wildly in the air, their reins creaking and squeaking, and Don Quixote nearly flew off due to the momentum.
"Hey! Hold on!"
She gripped the reins tightly, barely managing to keep the vehicle steady and prevent herself and her horse from crashing to the ground.
However, no matter how Don Quixote pulled on the reins or tried to soothe them, they refused to take another step forward and just frantically dug at the ground.
Knowing that the monster was nearby, the group did not force the two horses.
"Let's get out of the carriage. We'll have to walk the rest of the way," Rod said, jumping down and grabbing the bit of one of the horses. "Let's find a secluded spot to park the carriage and walk."
They led the carriage to a secluded hollow in the nearby woods, using vines and bushes for cover, and securely tethered the horses in the woods.
"The village is just ahead, but we might encounter monsters at any moment, so be careful."
Rhodes whispered his instructions, his experience and habits with monsters in the forest making him unconsciously lower his body.
Don Quixote abandoned his earlier impetuousness, his expression turned serious, and he obediently followed behind; Milan lowered the brim of her hat, and Susanna gripped her staff nervously. Under the cover of grass and bushes, the group moved forward silently.
As they continued forward, the stench grew stronger, a smell that Rhode was all too familiar with – the kind of monster that emanated from it.
"Goblins again—" Rhodes couldn't help but sigh.
He had already experienced firsthand how troublesome and disgusting these monsters were; villages attacked by them would likely not fare well.
"This smell is disgusting," Milan couldn't help but cover her nose and complain softly, "ten times worse than the stinky cheese that those old geezers love to eat."
After crossing the low earthen slope ahead, the entire village of Jimu was revealed to everyone.
The entire village was deathly silent, completely deserted.
The once neat courtyard walls collapsed in large areas, and the wooden doors of many houses were violently smashed, with broken pieces of wood scattered all over the ground.
In the surrounding fields, which were about to be harvested, large swathes of wheat seedlings were trampled into mud, and dried, blackened splattered bloodstains could be seen everywhere in the mud, as well as broken hoes and farm tools discarded on the ridges of the fields.
Amidst these ruins, several low-ranking goblins with green skin, pointed ears, and monkey-like faces were wandering around as if no one else was there.
They let out a piercing, eerie "caw caw" as they greedily rummaged through the various household items left behind by their prey.
Everything was silently confirming Rhodes's earlier worries and conjectures.
"These damn green scum!"
Anger flared in Don Quixote's eyes. He drew his heavy, broadsword from behind him and charged forward to clear out the monsters.
A purple staff came horizontally and pressed Don Quixote back down.
"Stay put and don't alert them," Milan said calmly. "There are probably more monsters here than just these few. You'll have your turn to fight them later."
"We—" Don Quixote gritted his teeth, but had no choice but to stop.
"This is horrible—" Susanna, standing to the side, stared intently at the trails of blood on the ground, her face deathly pale.
She gripped her staff tightly with both hands, her clear eyes filled with worry, and her voice was very soft: "Lord Hiro—with so much blood lost, will the people in the village already—"
"Don't jump to conclusions."
Rod patted Susanna on the shoulder.
With a swift movement, he silently climbed to the top of a nearby tree, relying on his agile skills as a wandering knight.
He surveyed the entire village from his elevated position, his keen eyes sweeping over every damaged house and the distribution of bloodstains.
A moment later, Rhodes landed lightly back beside Susanna.
"There should still be survivors."
Meeting Susanna's hopeful yet questioning gaze, Rod explained calmly, "Although there is a lot of blood here, it should mostly be splattered blood from the fight. There aren't many remains of limbs left behind from being eaten. Judging from these scattered escape footprints, they are heading in a relatively uniform direction, so they should have been hiding in a few places."
"What do you mean?" Don Quixote asked blankly.
Rhodes glanced at her: "Those goblins are only robbing people of their wealth and food; they haven't shown any signs of breeding yet. There's a high probability that there are still survivors in the village, probably hiding in nearby cellars or undiscovered houses. We need to find them before the monsters discover them."
He moved forward, following the shadows of the broken walls, and skillfully led his group around several goblins who were rummaging through the debris.
On the muddy ground behind the village, the originally scattered and messy footprints gradually converged into several clear narrow paths.
Rod crouched down and brushed aside the dead leaves covering the surface, revealing several boot prints of varying depths.
There were also round holes poked out with wooden sticks, and judging from the depth, they were left by an elderly person.
These traces confirmed his earlier judgment that the villagers had indeed retreated in an organized manner in a specific direction.
Don Quixote gripped the hilt of his greatsword tightly, deliberately slowing his pace to control the clanging sounds that his heavy armor might cause.
Susanna followed closely behind Rhodes, her eyes darting around warily, afraid of missing any hidden dangers.
Milan trailed at the back of the group, her slender fingertips subtly pulsating with magic, wary of goblins that might pounce from the shadows at any moment.
Torn pieces of coarse cloth hung from the bushes along the way, and faded aprons lay scattered in the mud; these small objects provided Rod with clear directions.
Passing through the end of the village, the terrain gradually rises ahead, and a gentle hill lies in front of you.
The vines and thorns covering the mountainside grew luxuriantly, layer upon layer, obscuring the original appearance of the mountain walls.
Rod stopped following the last footprints, sidestepped a thorny branch, and reached out to push aside the thick, heavily hidden vines in front of him.
Clear traces of human excavation are visible on the mountainside, revealing the entrance to a series of caves.
The deep, winding cave passages are complex and intricate. If you listen carefully, you can faintly hear suppressed breathing coming from the depths of the deathly silent cave.
"This should be it—"
Rhodes turned his head and gestured for silence to the three people below.
Don Quixote immediately covered his mouth, too frightened to even breathe.
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