Chapter 29
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 29
Chapter Title: Goblin Subjugation
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Goblin Park received three skulls.
"Whoa, damn. Never imagined this."
After the frenzied slaughter party ended, we counted the goblin corpses. Burned to death, suffocated, crushed, pierced, and sliced—forty bodies in total. An impressive number.
I'd thought catching just four per person would be a win, but per head, it was over double that at ten. Three coppers each made thirty coppers a day—quite the pricey reward for a bit of arson on a hike.
"Ugh... the smell of burning meat..."
"Can you eat goblin meat?"
"Not recommended."
Surprisingly, the scent of roasting meat wafted pleasantly.
It had been ages since I'd tasted proper meat. Goblins were monsters, so maybe if grilled right, they'd be decent—but these were all charred beyond edibility. Pure carcinogens. No matter how desperate for meat, that was a hard pass.
"Anyway, shouldn't we cut off the heads?"
Gibson said. As he pointed out, we needed proof of subjugation: goblin heads. But with this many, transporting them was a problem. We'd only planned for about four, so no sacks brought along.
"How should we move them? Forty heads is no joke."
"Village is close. Two round trips work?"
"Yeah, probably."
And so, we embarked on the unprecedented mega-task of decapitating forty goblins one by one.
No matter how adapted to this world, my sensibilities were still those of a modern Earthling.
One or two? Fine. But gleefully dismembering bodies in a massacre site? Not happening.
Naturally, my pace slowed. Sant was a given, but even Gibson and Meria sliced necks like tofu—making me feel a bit ashamed lagging behind.
"Urk."
Meria yanked a head off with the spine intact when the bone wouldn't cut. Blackened veins and dangling vertebrae created a grotesquely horrific sight.
Ew, gross. Hesitating at the view, Meria glanced over.
"What? That's all you've done? Slice harder."
"Seeing them piled dead like this suddenly creeps me out."
"Creeps you out? Pretty sensitive for a guy."
"Doesn't it creep you out, Meria?"
"Nah, not really?"
Fair enough. Raised in a world where killing was daily life, gender made no difference. She'd just joyfully bashed goblins to death. A place where cruelty and ruthlessness were virtues.
For a softie like me, this world was a fucking nightmare to survive.
Thus, I sawed through goblin necks. Truly a bullshit task.
"These folks seem barbaric, but not all are, huh."
"My hometowners aside... this is chilling."
Forty heads lined up felt like stumbling into a serial killer's delusion-fueled collection at his home—like a cop witnessing madness incarnate.
Agh, fuck.
Swears bubbled up involuntarily.
What a goddamn awful experience.
"What about the bodies?"
"Leave 'em. Other monsters will devour them."
Gibson asked while kicking headless torsos aside; Sant replied nonchalantly. They weren't our friends anyway. No need to bury them—nature would reclaim them.
Conveniently barbecued, too.
"Smoke's clearing. Shall we head inside now?"
Meria suggested.
"Oh, right."
I glanced into the cave. Post-cleanup, the smoke had dissipated somewhat.
Time to properly explore the goblin lair. Intelligent as they were, they hoarded "useful" items inside.
With the place empty, looting it would yield better than a few heads.
"Better wait a bit more?"
"Agreed. Don't want to suffocate."
At Sant's words, we sat nearby for a break.
Intense exercise had dehydrated us. I sipped water slowly; the roasting scent stirred hunger, so I nibbled rations again.
About twenty minutes later, we followed rising Sant inside. Burning smell lingered, but smoke seemed gone.
"Stay cautious for now."
Gibson said. Survivors might lurk within.
No way to slack off and eat a shield bash—treatment bills would skyrocket. Weapons forward, we crept in: Meria shielding front, me guarding rear from the party's tail.
The depths were pitch black, but sporadic glowing mineral dust on walls lit our way adequately. No clue what it was, but caves often had such luminescence.
"More bodies."
Stragglers who hadn't escaped lay sprawled. We stabbed each prone goblin once. Unlikely survivors amid the chaos, but confirmation kills were essential.
No way these goblin shits were playing dead, only to leap up and scare the soul out of me. Heart attacks had no cure.
"Aw, babies. Poor things."
Curving at the deepest part revealed a small chamber with huddled baby goblins, dead peacefully.
Meria pitied them, but after roasting and slashing their parents? Rich coming from us.
"Waste. Sell 'em to the arena for cash."
Arenas always bought monster young or eggs as fighter fodder—at high prices. Baby goblins worth three coppers? Considered decapitating, but Meria's recent pity glare stopped me.
"Stuff scattered everywhere."
"Indeed."
Deeper in, junk littered the place.
Unidentified bones, hides, furs. Human tools too: rusted axes, rusted swords, half-broken arrowheads.
Goblins used tools and prized human ones. Hence collecting them. Rusty, but iron blades held power.
Seemed like goblins' own gear, ditched in panic flight from fire.
I picked up a crudely worn dagger.
"Plenty, but nothing valuable. All worn out. Damn, look at this rust. Ancient relic?"
"Yeah... overhyped it."
"Still, grab everything."
"Of course."
Salable tools? We packed them all.
Thus, the quest wrapped. Outside, we tallied gear and heads.
"Forty-three heads... worthless tools... split four ways, about thirty-five coppers each."
Heads plus tools: too much for one trip.
Two round trips it was. Village nearby, quick enough.
"Can't carry all at once. Back for more."
"Should've brought a sack."
Two trips to the village later...
"Ho... impressive haul! No more crop worries! As expected of Sant! Worth entrusting you."
Sunset by transport's end. The morning elder emerged with rewards, beaming ear-to-ear—genuinely thrilled at the goblin massacre.
"Elder, found this in the lair. Sellable?"
"Poor quality. But smithy might take 'em for scraps. Or I'll buy here."
"Thanks."
Reward: 145 coppers. Me, Meria, Gibson got thirty-five each; forty to Sant for fencing the junk via village ties. Fair—no complaints.
Sant thanked us.
"Head back?"
"Yeah."
"Wanna crash already."
First E-rank quest in Isvant done. Stamp at guild and finished. Nice—thirty-five coppers. Luck's been good lately. Unthinkable daily wage before.
Party members decent, quest smooth as silk. Rare indeed.
"I'll stay. Handle processing."
Sant told us city-bound folks.
"Village ties? Staying overnight?"
"Yep."
"Cool."
Sant stayed; we three hit the guild. Night full dark by arrival.
Passed rowdy drinking tables for quest stamp.
Moment of glory.
"Easier than thought. Fire trick. Reuse next time."
"Agreed. Learned from Sant."
Cave? Torch it—masses applaud.
I noted that.
"Hey, drop formal speech. We'll see each other at guild anyway? Realized I've been the only one."
Meria said. True—I'd been polite solo.
Felt fresh. Only familiar woman was Winia, who never treated me casually. Meria's vibe stirred something odd.
She seemed genuinely kind.
"Yeah? Okay then. See ya, Meria."
"Quick switch. Yeah, Katt. You too."
I waved smiling at her cheerful wave.
"Thanks today. Made it easy."
"Nah, thanks owed. Everyone did their part. Take care, Gibson. Hope we team up again."
"Bye."
Parted with Gibson too.
Such successful parties rare in my life. Five humans? One always trash—like law. Most parties I'd joined had flaws. Adventurer average personality.
Smooth end... Joyfully self-celebrating, I returned to the inn.
Dinner hour bustle. Innkeeper subtly pitched food; not worth paying, so declined.
Bought a beer instead. Up to room, stripped naked, downed it solo, then blissfully crashed into bed.
And slept.