The plan was simple. Simple plans worked best when everything else was chaos.
Victor would be bait. Raul would kill. Arin would observe if anything went wrong. They didn't have traps, didn't have fancy gear, just steel, sweat, and a prayer none of them believed in.
Victor hated the plan. "So… I just stand here? Alone? Waiting for something with teeth?"
Raul checked his daggers, calm as stone. "You don't stand. You look weak. You look lost. Goblins like easy prey."
Victor groaned. "Great. I'm perfect for the role."
Arin smirked. "You'll be fine. We're close."
Victor muttered something about last words and shuffled into the clearing Raul had picked, a patch of open ground between two crooked trees. He tried to look helpless. It wasn't hard.
Minutes crawled. Then a shadow moved.
A goblin stepped out from the brush, hunched and twitchy, oxblood skin gleaming under the broken light. Its eyes were small, mean, and hungry. It sniffed the air, saw Victor, and grinned like a knife.
Victor swallowed. "Uh… guys?"
Raul was already moving. Silent. Fast. His dagger flashed once, twice, clean arcs through damp air. The goblin jerked, gurgled, and dropped without a sound.
Victor stared at the corpse. "Holy—"
Arin's voice cut in, calm and sharp. "Notification."
A red screen flickered in Arin's sight:
___________________________
Your subordinate killed a Soldier-rank Fellhide Goblin, +2 Lord Coins.
Current Lord Coins: 02
___________________________
Arin's lips twitched. Progress.
They didn't erase the trail. That was the point. Goblins would come looking. And when they did, Raul would make sure they regretted it.
It didn't take long.
Five goblins pushed through the undergrowth, snarling and snapping. One had a crude bow, the others carried jagged blades that looked like they'd been carved from bone. Their eyes locked on Victor, and they charged.
Raul hissed, "Positions!"
Arin shoved his shield into Victor's hands. "Tank."
Victor blinked. "Tank? I'm not—"
"Now!" Arin barked.
Victor barely had time to raise the shield before the first goblin slammed into him. The impact rattled his bones. He grunted, teeth grinding, as another goblin clawed at the edge of the shield.
Arin stepped in, sword flashing. He wasn't fast; he didn't need to be. He held the line, blade sweeping in tight arcs, keeping the goblins from swarming Victor.
Raul vanished into the trees.
The goblin archer nocked an arrow, grinning sharply. It never loosened. Raul's dagger slid between its ribs from behind, quick and quiet. The goblin choked, dropped, and Raul was already moving, another slash, another kill.
The remaining goblins panicked. Their snarls turned to shrieks. Raul didn't waste the chance. He cut through them like water through cracks, fast, precise, merciless.
Victor shoved one back with the shield, panting hard. Arin's sword bit deep into another's chest. Blood sprayed, hot and metallic, Raul made the finishing blow.
Then it was over.
Five bodies lay broken in the dirt. The clearing stank of iron and sweat.
Victor collapsed against a tree, gasping. "I hate this plan."
Arin grinned faintly. "It works."
Raul wiped his blades clean. "Rest. More will come."
They waited. And waited. And killed.
One goblin. Two. Five. Ten. The village kept sending scouts, and they kept cutting them down. It wasn't easy; every fight left them bruised, bleeding, and bone-tired, but it worked. Slowly, the numbers climbed.
Arin's screens flickered after each kill:
___________________________
Your subordinate killed a Soldier-rank Fellhide Goblin, +2 Lord Coins.
Current Lord Coins: 40
___________________________
By the end of the second day, they had slaughtered twenty goblins. Forty Lord Coins earned. Still thirty short to upgrade Raul's skill, Quick Footwork, to Nimble Steps.
Raul didn't complain. He just sharpened his daggers and kept moving.
The third day dawned gray and heavy. They were tired, sore, and running low on patience. That was when the forest decided to remind them who owned it.
A group of ten goblins appeared, not scouts, but fighters. Bigger, meaner, and armored in jagged plates that looked ripped from beasts. At their center stood one with a helm of bone and a blade longer than Arin's arm.
Victor swore under his breath. "That's not a scout."
Raul's eyes narrowed. "That's a war party."
Arin's grip tightened on his sword. "We can't fight that."
Raul nodded once. "Avoid."
They melted into the trees, slow and silent, hearts pounding. The goblins prowled the clearing, sniffing, snarling, but didn't find anything.
Victor exhaled hard when they were far enough. "I thought we were dead."
Raul didn't look at him. "Next time, we will be, if we're not careful."
They continued with the same strategy: kill lone scouts, and when others come to search for it, kill them too, until the armored ones show up.
By the end of the third day, Arin's screen glowed bright:
Lord Coins: 74
Arin smiled, thin and sharp. "We're ready."
Victor groaned, slumping against a tree. "Ready for what? More goblins?"
Raul slid his daggers into their sheaths. His eyes were cold, steady. "No. For upgrades, baby."