The sound of the explosion was not loud, but it was accompanied by a slight tremor. It instantly threw the team, who had just let their guard down, into a brief moment of chaos.
The three mercenaries cried out and instinctively shrank back to gather together, while looks of panic appeared on the faces of Hal and Rayson.
Just as panic began to spread, Flynn, who had been silently guarding Brody's side, spoke up. His voice was not loud, but it was exceptionally steady, carrying a calm that came from having weathered many storms:
“Steady, everyone! Don't panic!”
He peered deeply into the direction of the explosion, as if trying to evaluate something through the thick mist, and continued to analyze in a reassuring yet vigilant tone:
“If it were truly a powerful spell capable of posing a fatal threat to us, there would have been a piercing screech or precursor elemental fluctuations just now, and the impact and range of the explosion would have been far greater than this. This sounds like it's probably only a 0-Circle spell.”
Flynn's words acted like a reassuring pill, calming the panicked crowd down a little.
Matthew's expression instantly froze, waves of shock crashing through his heart.
“A spell?!”
He could hardly believe his ears.
In his past life, this was merely a concept from works of fantasy. After transmigrating to this world of swords and magic, although he knew extraordinary powers existed and had seen monsters, this was the first time a “spell” had ever felt so tangibly “heard” by him.
Aside from shock, there was an intense curiosity! After all, his Spirit attribute was slightly higher than that of ordinary people. He was bound to be the talented kind.
He instinctively turned his head to look at Sierra, who was also tightly gripping her longbow beside him with a focused expression. Lowering his voice, he asked in a tone filled with hard-to-conceal astonishment and a need for confirmation, “Sierra, was that really... a spell? Does such a thing actually exist in this world?”
Hearing this, Sierra shook her head slightly, a hint of confusion and tension showing on her wheat-colored face. “I... I'm not sure either. Although I've heard of them, this is also the first time I've witnessed or heard the commotion caused by a spell with my own eyes and ears.”
Her gaze involuntarily drifted back toward the depths of the thick mist where the explosion had originated, carrying both the vigilance of a hunter toward unknown prey and a trace of bewilderment at her first contact with supernatural forces.
Their whispers were clearly heard by Instructor Calm, who was not far away. Instructor Calm didn't look back, his gaze still sharply scanning the rolling mist ahead, but his steady voice drifted over clearly:
“Mr. Flynn's assessment is correct. The commotion of that explosion indeed fits the characteristics of a low-tier spell.”
“Spells do exist. They are not mere legends.”
“For humans, the conditions to learn spells are extremely harsh. It requires not only a specific talent—possessing an extraordinary perception of and affinity for one or more elements and energies—but also a systematic, long, and costly inheritance of knowledge and practice. The vast majority of people can never even touch the threshold in their entire lives.”
“Among monsters, individuals capable of casting spell-like abilities are also exceptionally rare. However, even among the lowest-level goblins, 'priests' capable of magic can appear.”
Instructor Calm's voice sounded exceptionally clear and calm in the thick mist, diluting the mystery and fear brought by the spell, pulling it back into the comprehensible realm of “rare but real.”
His explanation allowed the shock in Matthew's heart to settle slightly, replaced by a more concrete realization: spells were a real power, but they were extremely rare and difficult to master, whether for humans or monsters.
However, this calm did not last long. Once the initial shock faded, an enticing thought sprouted almost simultaneously in the minds of several experienced adventurers: the prospect of reaping the spoils while others fought.
Being able to cast spells, even if it was only a low-level 0-Circle spell, held an immense allure for those who had not yet become Class holders.
In a place like the Shadow Forest, an entity capable of casting spells—be it some sort of intelligent monster, a rare magical creature, or something else—likely possessed valuable magical materials, minerals, or even lost equipment or knowledge within itself or its nest.
This was far more valuable than hunting a few ordinary monsters. What's more, there was the possibility of picking up some scraps! In the face of immense profits, adventurers were willing to pay a certain price.
For Brody, this was an even more excellent “investigation result.” After all, monsters capable of casting spells were very rare on the outskirts.
“Should we go take a look?”
Matthew's voice was not loud. Once the words slipped out, even he was slightly stunned.
The others were also slightly taken aback. They hadn't expected these words to come from this village youth, yet surprisingly, no one objected. Even Remy and his lackeys remained silent. Everyone had their own designs.
After a moment, Calm spoke up, “Since no one objects... we will go take a look. But everyone must remember: we are only going to investigate. Under no circumstances are you allowed to initiate a provocation.”
“Yes!” everyone replied in unison, their voices sounding somewhat muffled in the thick mist.
The team set off once more. The thick mist rolled around them, keeping visibility extremely low, but the air grew increasingly heavy with a scent mixed with sulfur, burning, and a faint smell of blood.
Parting the last clump of exceptionally dense shrubs, the scene before them made everyone instantly hold their breath. What caught Matthew's eye was a small mound of earth.
In the center of the mound was a mud-and-stone cave clearly excavated by some creature, with animal tracks visible near the entrance.
What drew his attention was the clearing beside the mound, where the scene was absolutely brutal, with many corpses piled together in a chaotic heap. Aside from the short, grey-green, and distinctively featured goblin corpses, there were also several sturdier bodies with thick tails and heavy bones. They were kobolds!
These kobolds had met equally gruesome deaths. Some were impaled by the goblins' crude weapons, while others had their throats torn open in close-quarters combat.
The clearing was a complete mess, littered with broken wooden sticks, crude stone axes, and fragments of ornaments that appeared to have been ripped off the kobolds.
Just as everyone thought the battle had already ended, a rapid, hoarse howling suddenly echoed from the shadows of the cave in the mound.
Immediately after, several short, grey-green figures scrambled and crawled out of the cave entrance, closely pursued by a dense pack of kobolds! There were about thirty of them! An incredibly shocking number!
One had to realize that a small tribe of kobolds only consisted of about thirty members, and these were all young, strong adult kobolds!
At this moment, the surviving goblins were covered in wounds. The wooden sticks in their hands were broken, and only half of their stone axes remained. With their backs against the mound, they were surrounded in a semi-circle by more than a dozen kobolds.
The kobolds let out low growls, closing in step by step, their thick tails sweeping the ground anxiously.
Then, a very different-looking kobold slowly emerged from the shadows of the cave. It was taller and more muscular than its peers, with ornaments made of small skulls and glittering ores hanging around its neck and wrists.
Most eye-catching of all was the “staff” in its hand, which was about the length of its arm. Wherever it walked, the thin mist around it gradually dispersed, as if parting to make way for it.
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