The Scout Team

In the evening, a messenger from down the mountain arrived at the front lines. He passed through the outer sentry line and handed a sealed parchment to Stine.

Stine broke the wax seal and read the letter from beginning to end by the light of the campfire.

He put the letter away, had his retainer invite Artley over, and sent someone to find Roger and Irene.

Before long, the group gathered around the campfire.

Stine got straight to the point:

“Lord Raymond's reply has arrived. The count believes we should continue our coordinated operations and indicated that other reinforcements are on the way. At the same time, he wants us to send a small team into the cave to scout before launching the next offensive.”

“But the scouting must be completed within two days. After two days, regardless of the scouting results, the main force will launch a general offensive.”

Hearing the time limit, Artley frowned.

“Subtracting the time for the round trip and rest, we only have about a day and a half to actually scout the cave. If the cave's interior is deep enough or the tunnels are complex, this amount of time might only be enough to map out the initial section. If we go any deeper, we might not even have enough time to draw a map.”

“That is why the members of the scout team must be carefully selected,” Stine said, taking over the conversation as his gaze slowly swept over the people present.

“Lord Raymond explicitly requested in his reply that we prioritize experienced mercenaries or standing army soldiers, and that conscripts are not to participate.”

“Additionally, this small team cannot be too large. Too many people will make it hard to move in the narrow cave tunnels. But it can't be too small either; in case of an ambush, they must at least have the strength to fight back.”

He turned to Artley. “Does the Golden Falcon Group have anyone skilled in cave reconnaissance? Deputy Leader Steinbeck mentioned before that he was responsible for scouting those outposts on the northern slope.”

Artley glanced sideways at Steinbeck, who took over the conversation with a relaxed tone:

“I have some experience navigating in the dark inside caves. Back when I was dealing with beastkin in the north, I crawled through quite a few of their mines. Besides, I'm not built too heavily, so I won't get stuck in narrow tunnels.”

He grinned as he said this, but quickly wiped the smile off his face and added:

“However, I'm not enough on my own. I'll need at least three or four people.”

“I'll go,” Irene volunteered. She didn't offer much explanation, as if her mind was already made up.

Stine nodded and turned his gaze toward the retainers present, planning to select someone with night combat experience from the standing army.

“Count me in,” Roger said, raising his hand before Stine could speak, then giving his reason:

“I'm quite interested in the number and distribution of goblins in the lair. Killing a few more will earn me some extra commission.”

Mercenaries were after money and loot. Volunteering for a dangerous mission didn't require any noble, high-minded reasons; a simple “earn some extra” was far more believable than any flowery speech.

Though his actual goal was to farm more points.

Stine glanced at him but didn't press further.

Afterward, the Golden Falcon Group sent a female warrior named Lana, rounding out the team to four. She wore light leather armor, with two scimitars hanging from her waist and her dark brown hair tied back with a leather cord.

“You will set off first thing tomorrow morning. Get some good rest tonight.”

...

The next morning, just as dawn was breaking, the four members of the scout team were fully packed and ready to go. Stine and Artley gave their respective people some final words of advice.

The scout team then began their march toward the cave. Steinbeck walked at the front, with Lana following closely behind, Roger in third, and Irene bringing up the rear. The four crossed the invisible boundary of the cave entrance one by one, their figures swallowed up by the darkness inside.

Upon entering the cave, the air gradually turned cool and damp, thick with a mix of dirt, rock dust, and an unidentifiable metallic stench.

Roger activated his Scout's Eye right after entering. A bird's-eye view with a fifteen-meter radius centered on him unfolded in his mind, constructing a complete map of the terrain in his consciousness.

Steinbeck took out a goose-egg-sized crystal that emitted a blue-white glow, illuminating the space for a few meters around them and casting the shadows of the four onto the rocky walls.

After walking about forty or fifty paces inside, the passage began to narrow.

The rock walls on both sides pressed inward, and the ceiling overhead gradually lowered. The passage, which could initially accommodate five or six people walking side-by-side, shrank until it could barely fit two.

After another few dozen paces, two forks appeared ahead.

Steinbeck stopped at the fork, pulled out a small piece of limestone from his waist, and made an inconspicuous white mark on the wall of the left fork. He then squatted down to inspect the loose gravel on the ground and the friction marks on the walls of both paths.

He then said in a lowered voice:

“The path on the right shows signs of frequent foot traffic recently, while the left is relatively clean. The main goblin force is likely on the right.”

Roger also walked to the fork, using his Scout's Eye to carefully discern the details of where each path led.

The ground of the right-hand passage indeed showed clear signs of trampling, and several scratches that looked like they were scraped by weapons or tools remained on the rock walls.

The left passage was relatively clean, but a faint, extremely weak scorched smell drifted through the air, like the residue of some mineral burned at a high temperature.

It was somewhat similar to the smell of the burning purple crystals he had encountered back in the forest cave.

Roger shared his discovery with the others. Steinbeck nodded thoughtfully upon hearing it, while Lana walked over to the left fork, sniffed carefully, and confirmed she smelled it too.

“There's something on both paths,” Steinbeck said, his eyes scanning back and forth between the left and right forks. “The right has the main goblin force, and the left might have traces of cultist activity. Which way do we scout first?”

“I lean toward the left,” Roger said.

After all, ever since he crossed over, everything he had encountered was orchestrated by that cult. They were truly the root of all evil.

“The goblins are just tools in the hands of the cult. If we don't take this opportunity to find out what the cultists are up to in this mountain, even if we kill all the goblins, new trouble will eventually spring up if the root isn't cut.”

And once they figured out the cultists' background, they would likely understand the goblins' situation better as well.

Steinbeck didn't take a stance immediately after hearing Roger's thoughts, instead turning to Lana.

The latter was quickly sketching a rough map of the fork's terrain on a piece of parchment. Sensing Steinbeck's gaze, she looked up and said briefly, “I'm with you. You're the leader.”

Steinbeck then turned to look at Irene behind him.

Irene replied:

“I prefer to scout the left first. This is a goblin lair, so they won't run away for now. The cultists are the ones pulling the strings behind all this.”

“Could we split up?” Lana suggested tentatively. “Two on each side, scouting both paths simultaneously. It would save half the time.”

Steinbeck shook his head vigorously. “We have limited numbers. Splitting up is the ultimate taboo. Besides, once we separate, communication is cut off. If anything happens to one side, the other won't even know.”

He held the crystal high, letting its light sweep across the two forks one last time.

“The left path it is, then.”