The night after the roasted chicken feast was peaceful. Jun sat outside the small cabin with Minho, gazing at the starlit sky. The goblins were fast asleep, full-bellied and satisfied after their second harvest celebration.
But just past midnight, a sharp sound shattered the silence—"CRAAAK!"
Minho jumped to his feet, instinctively reaching for his sword.
"That came from the trap pit!" he hissed.
Without hesitation, they ran toward the edge of the fog, where Jun had dug a 3-meter-deep pit days earlier. As they arrived, torchlight revealed a wild goblin thrashing inside the hole. Its body was thin, its eyes crazed, and its claws scraped against the dirt in a frenzy.
Jun froze. Something about this goblin was off. Its eyes… they weren't mindless.
"How did it get this close?" Jun whispered.
"The fog's thinning. Maybe it saw the firelight from our feast," Minho replied grimly.
The goblin shrieked but couldn't escape. Its legs were bruised from the fall. Jun and Minho quickly restrained it, binding its arms and legs with thick rope. Godon, awakened by the commotion, arrived moments later, eyes narrowing as he stared at the intruder.
"He's... not from our kind," Godon muttered in a low voice, as if sensing something deeper.
Rather than executing it, Jun made a quick decision. He dragged the goblin into an old storage shed once used for wood. They would keep it there for now. Questions swirled in Jun's mind.
Why had it come alone?
Was it scouting?
Was it lost?
As Jun locked the shed, he glanced toward the mist. The fog felt colder than usual. The breeze carried a strange hum—like whispers tickling his ears.
"This is just the beginning," Jun murmured.