The Weinan Boy (2)

After a few hours of walking through seemingly endless trees and shrubbery, the party arrived at a small clearing surrounded by heavy brush and thick undergrowth. As expected, there were several goblins scattered through the area. Their presence was evident with the pungent and nauseating smell of blood, sweat, and rotting corpses and meat wafting through the air.

"They must be eating," Rufus commented as he and the others approached the goblin camp.

At the centre of the encampment sat a round wooden table, filled with provisions and rations, alongside three goblins, who were eating their fill. One of the creatures looked wounded, with a cut on its arm. It had a short beard that protruded from its chin. It was currently chewing on some sort of root vegetable and didn't notice the men surrounding their encampment, or judging by the looks of things what remained of it, because as soon as they moved in closer, they noticed a pile of goblin corpses at the edge of their encampment.

"Are these the ones we're supposed to take out?" Marcus asked.

"Yes, but there were dozens more barely a few days ago…" Rufus said, perplexed by what he was seeing in front of him. None of his men were given any orders to reduce their numbers.

"We should attack them now," Marcus said, eager to show off his skills.

"Wait, something's off–" Rufus tried saying, however Marcus had sprung into action, unsheathing his blade and tossing its scabbard towards his steward, while charging towards the three unsuspecting goblins.

He swung at the goblins with trained precision, his sheer speed allowing to get in close enough to stab one of the goblins in the gut before the other two noticed what was happening. The first goblin went down in seconds, but the second managed to fend Marcus' attack away, using the table for cover. 

Fashioning a quick earth spell, Marcus launched the goblin up into the air, before quickly lopping its head off with a quick horizontal slash. Using quick footwork, he reached the last elderly goblin and swung his blade in wide arcs, striking the creature several times in quick succession, until it finally fell to the ground. He was toying with them, the way he had slaughtered them was as if a predator was simply playing with its prey.

"Why did you do that? What are you doing?" Rufus yelled, confused about why Marcus was acting rashly without a plan.

"There's no need for a plan here, I'll finish this quickly." Marcus replied with a grin on his face. "And now they're dead." He continued.

Alfred let out a big sigh, almost as if he had expected this to happen. "Dear me…" He muttered under his breath.

'Arrogant little shit.' Rufus thought.

Marcus continued to look around, search for the goblin nest and any sign of remaining goblins.

Rufus' men followed suit, securing the campsite; however, they noticed several signs of a battle that had occurred prior to the young master's attack. With trained eyes, they surveyed the goblin campsite, their expressions turning grim as their suspicions came true. The scene spoke of chaos and conflict.

Amidst the scattered remnants of the goblin encampment,the flickering embers of a once-roaring fire caught their attention. It was recent, likely a few hours prior to their arrival. It was evident that the flames had danced wildly, leaving behind charred patches of ground and a lingering scent of smoke that mingled with the earthy forest air. The fire had served as a focal point of the clash, burning everything in its way.

As they moved further into the camp, the mercenaries' gazes were drawn to the shredded remnants of tents. Long, deep slashes marred the fabric, flapping in the gentle breeze, revealing torn edges and dead goblins inside. The goblins had been caught by surprise but by who? Or what?

But it wasn't just the destruction of the campsite that caught their attention. The ground itself bore scars from the unleashed powers of magic. Earth spikes jutted out haphazardly from the forest floor, their jagged tips still tinged with residual mana.

"I'm certain it was one man against the many." Rufus said with certainty, while looking at the corpses of dead goblins.

"How so?" Asked Marcus.

"Because otherwise they'd all be dead, but 3 goblins remained." He responded.

Rufus' men exchanged glances, their expressions mirroring a mixture of concern and wariness. The signs left behind painted a picture of a fierce battle, yet to Rufus it seemed like the person who had attacked the encampment was a novice.

"Do not worry men, they're likely long gone by now but stay vigilant." He reassured his party.

The discovery heightened the senses of everyone on the mission, including Marcus', sharpening their awareness of the potential threats that could be lurking in the shadows. Their careful examination of the encampment led them to a rocky outcrop, where the murmur of voices grew louder.

A cave entrance came into view, it had been completely blocked off by what looked like several layers of earth magic.

***