The two of them handed the scene over to the arriving soldiers and walked back through the woods to the camp, heading straight for Baron Raymond's tent.
After hearing the report of what had happened in the woods, Baron Raymond's brow furrowed deeply. “This is not what the scouts described.”
Stine added, “My Lord, this remains an unpredictable factor, and we have no idea how many more controlled beasts or even magical beasts are still inside. I suggest we temporarily retreat a short distance and wait to rendezvous with Count Nigel's main force before we—”
Baron Raymond waved his hand, cutting him off.
“Knowing Count Nigel's temper, he likely won't accept such an excuse.
“As the vanguard, our mission is to clear any obstacles before the main force arrives. If we grind to a halt just because a few beasts are hiding in the woods, and he arrives to find us still camped in the exact same spot, I shouldn't need to tell you what the consequences would be.”
Seeing his lord's firm stance, Knight Stine held his tongue.
After a brief pause, the Baron continued:
“But you are right. This forest is indeed an unpredictable factor. However, since we don't know how many controlled beasts or magical beasts are inside, sending troops in blindly to clear it would only result in unnecessary losses.”
“Lord Raymond, I have a suggestion,” Roger said, having observed from the side for a long time.
Baron Raymond turned his gaze to him and nodded slightly, signaling him to proceed.
Roger replied without missing a beat, “Since sending a large force into the woods would only result in losses, we could send one or two people to scout ahead first.
“A single person makes a smaller target and less noise, making them less likely to alert whatever is hiding inside. They would also be much more flexible. Once we understand the situation within, we'll have the information we need to decide whether to bypass the woods or clear them.”
With an opportunity to earn points right in front of him, Roger was not about to let it slip away. He had already been scheming for a way to get back into the woods; this was the perfect excuse to go along with the flow.
The cultists' magic certainly made those animals much tougher to kill, but looking on the bright side, the point rewards were also higher.
A single brown bear was worth two hundred points, equivalent to five ordinary goblins. If there were other things in the woods, then this forest wasn't a danger zone—it was a farming spot.
He wasn't too worried about encountering something he couldn't beat, either. After all, he still had his Short-Range Teleportation Amulet unused.
The Baron didn't beat around the bush and asked directly, “Do you want to volunteer for this?”
“Yes, My Lord,” Roger answered cleanly.
Raymond glanced at the village's location marked on the map and finally nodded.
“While I don't entirely understand your reasoning, since you are taking the initiative to shoulder this task, I approve. However, it will have to wait until after we eliminate the goblins in the village. With the upcoming battle ahead of us, I cannot afford to disperse my forces beforehand.”
He then indicated that if there was nothing else, they were dismissed. Roger and Stine bowed and walked out of the tent.
Back in his own tent, Roger pulled up his system interface and used the appraisal function on the lizard carcass.
【Name: Blue-Scaled Lizard Carcass
Description: A Rank Two magical beast, the Blue-Scaled Lizard. It has a relatively gentle temperament and low combat capabilities. Its scales can deflect most physical attacks, making them an excellent material for crafting armor.】
The interface did not show any point recycling value. Roger guessed the system probably didn't accept carcasses.
Then again, if carcasses could be recycled, that mountain of goblin corpses from before would have already made him filthy rich. Why would he have needed to painstakingly scavenge for scraps?
He stared at the appraisal panel, his attention shifting back to the 'excellent material for crafting armor.'
“I'll keep it for now. Once I find a reliable blacksmith, I can have them process it into a piece of armor.”
Or, he could exchange his points in the shop for a blacksmithing skill and craft it himself. The benefit of doing so would be not having to explain the origin of the scales to a blacksmith, nor would he have to worry about anyone cutting corners.
But learning blacksmithing took time, and it required the appropriate tools and equipment. That was completely impossible while on the march. More importantly, he simply didn't have enough points.
Having dealt with the lizard carcass, he was about to lie down and rest when a thought suddenly popped into his head.
“Right, did I forget something?”
He reopened the system inventory. Over a dozen Firekiss Flowers lay quietly in their slots; he hadn't turned in a single one of these gathered materials yet.
Scholar Brandon was likely still busy coordinating the evacuation of the woods and wouldn't have time to count how many flowers everyone had gathered. Roger thought about it and decided not to turn them in just yet.
Until the scholar came looking for him to ask for them, he would temporarily keep these Firekiss Flowers stored in his system inventory.
In any case, storing things in the inventory didn't take up any physical space. As for whether he would secretly keep a few to turn into accelerants later, that was a bridge to cross when he got to it.
Throughout the afternoon, Scholar Brandon requisitioned all the large iron pots used for stewing soup and boiling porridge in the camp. He set up a row of crude, makeshift brewing stations in a sheltered area of the camp.
The firewood beneath the iron pots blazed brightly, and the liquid inside bubbled and boiled, its color gradually shifting from a muddy yellow-green to a thick, dark red.
A pungent, stinging odor filled the air, so strong that anyone passing by couldn't help but cover their noses and hurry away.
Covering his nose, Roger stood at the edge of the camp, staring at the steaming iron pots. He couldn't help but worry: This smell is incredibly strong. Will the wind carry it over to the village?
If the goblins caught wind of this stench and became alert, tonight's night raid would be ruined. However, he looked up to check the wind direction; the wind was blowing from the direction of the village, so they were safe for now.
The brewing process lasted the entire afternoon.
During this time, Baron Raymond ordered the camp's security to be tightened, doubling the number of patrolling sentries.
At the same time, everyone who knew how to use a bow was ordered to return to their tents and rest, conserving their energy for the late-night assault.
Roger, universally recognized as a “sharpshooter,” was naturally no exception.
Roger also heard that Baron Raymond was searching for the scout who had delivered the incorrect intel, but they had yet to find him.
With nothing else to do, he closed his eyes and tried to rest in his tent.
He thought he would toss and turn, but his body had accumulated quite a bit of fatigue from slaying the bear without taking a scratch.
The moment his head hit the bedding, drowsiness washed over him. Before his consciousness slipped into darkness, a single, vague thought crossed his mind: Clear the village tonight, farm the woods tomorrow.
By the time he was awakened by the sound of clappers, night had already fallen.
The night breeze was cool, and torches had already been lit throughout the camp, casting dancing shadows across the ground.
Archers of all kinds gathered one after another in the open clearing at the center of the camp. Infantry and cavalry also emerged from their respective tents, assembling on the opposite side of the clearing.
Then, under the command of a sergeant, they quietly advanced toward the village down the mountain under the cover of night.
Rate on N.U.
