Chapter Eight { Boban }

  “The smell of treasure.” One of the goblins sniffed the air with surprise, moving left and right as his nose worked.

  He looked like a dog in his behavior! Suddenly, he dropped to his knees and began crawling like one.

  Sniff… sniff… sniff…

  His nose worked feverishly as he followed the scent of treasure until he reached the spot.

  “All of this!!!” The goblin’s eyes widened as he saw the large pile of swords and coins.

  He took a quick step forward to seize them, but suddenly—

  Whoosh!

  The ground beneath him shifted, and dozens of tree vines sprang out, wrapping around him until he was bound like an insect in a spider’s web.

  “Success.” Ian stepped out from behind the bushes with a smile. “Excellent work, Noa.”

  Noa felt proud and bowed. “All thanks to the Lord.”

  The plan was simple—yet the results were perfect.

  A trap skill…

  A bait…

  Creating a snare…

  Capturing the goblin without a fight!

  A direct battle would be impossible for Ian’s current group, but what if they could capture most of the goblins before the fight even started… not only capture them, but also change their Loyalty and make them fight for Ian?

  Wouldn’t that flip the entire outcome!!?

  Ian asked Aliano to craft two Rune Stones—one for the Trap-Making skill, and the other for the Goblin Language, which Ian and the others learned easily.

  Languages were considered a type of skill, and skill runes were single–use, especially at the common level.

  And to create an accurate trap, they needed a strong lure. And what mattered most to goblins?

  Treasure!

  Ian gathered all the items from Titan Village—coins and swords—and piled them all here.

  Treasure…

  Treasure in the eyes of this little goblin, who began screaming in pain.

  Ian approached him with a smile. “Hello.”

  “What do you want?” the goblin said fearfully.

  “Let’s get to know each other,” Ian laughed. “Don’t worry… if you like my answers, you won’t suffer.”

  “Boban,” the goblin said, terrified as he glanced at Liu and Chris.

  Their aura alone frightened him.

  Level One!

  “Good. I’m Lord Ian.”

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  “Lord!!! A pleasure to meet you, my lord… c-can you let me down?”

  “Of course… but shouldn’t you answer a few questions first?”

  “What questions?”

  “Simple ones… how many troops do you have inside, and what level are they?” Ian asked.

  “We… we’re just a low-ranked village living in this mine. We’re twenty-three, and our leader is at Level One.”

  “Twenty-three… and one at Level One.” Ian thought for a moment, then looked toward Boban. “You’re not hiding anything from me… right?”

  “No… I wouldn’t dare, my lord,” Boban said, trembling.

  “Good. I expect that. Remove his weapons and tie him tightly—no sound, no movement. We need to catch as many as possible with this trap,” Ian ordered.

  Boban’s weapons were taken, and he was bound securely. Noa stood guard over him.

  One mistake, and Noa would cut his head off instantly.

  Two more swords were added to the pile, intensifying the sweet scent that attracted goblins.

  Soon, another one was dragged in…

  Then another…

  Then a group of three…

  The pile of items and captives kept growing.

  The smiles on Ian’s group widened, while fear spread more and more among the captured goblins.

  They never imagined—even in their darkest nightmares—that their enemy would use their own natural instinct and love for treasure against them… turning their greatest strength into their greatest weakness.

  The soldiers of Titan saw Ian in a new light.

  Humble… then brave (after the incident with the White Tiger)… and now wise.

  Who wouldn’t want a Lord like this!!!!

  Loyalty instantly rose—especially Noa’s, which reached 92% with ease.

  The value of loyalty was terrifying.

  If such a thing could be measured in the real world (Earth), the world’s entire structure would have changed—nothing would look the way we know it.

  Ian paid attention to every detail, yet a growing sense of wrongness stirred in his chest.

  The sun was halfway up, and the number of captives had reached nearly twenty—but… goblin groups kept coming out of the mine.

  The total number was over forty… completely contradicting Boban’s words.

  Ian walked toward him, drew his sword, and placed it on Boban’s neck.

  “Remove the vine from his mouth,” Ian ordered.

  Noa pulled the vine and cloth gag off without even asking why.

  “Wh–wh–what do you want?!!!” Boban trembled violently.

  “You said your number was twenty-three… but that doesn’t seem true,” Ian said coldly.

  “My lord, I’m not very good with numbers,” Boban stammered as he felt the blade on his throat. “Thirty-two… yes! It’s thirty-two, not twenty-three.”

  “Really???” Ian pressed the sword harder, tearing flesh from Boban’s neck.

  Boban’s body shuddered. “My lord… my lord… I’m not lying… our number really is thirty-two… I was wrong because I’m ignorant.”

  Ian didn’t respond—he simply pushed the sword deeper into Boban’s neck, causing filthy green blood to spill out.

  “No, no… my lord, please… please, I’m not lying!”

  The blade dug even deeper, and resistance finally appeared.

  That was not a good sign—feeling resistance meant the sword had reached bone and the neck joints… one more cut would mean death. Even a partial cut would be a wound that could never heal.

  “M-my lord… no—” Boban screamed in pain.

  Ian didn’t care.

  His expression was cold… his heart even colder than the blade in his hand.

  Chris, Liu, Noa, and the rest didn’t say a word in Boban’s defense.

  They were enemies… born enemies. Like a mouse hating a cat, and a cat hating a mouse.

  Rabbits and wolves would never agree—not unless the wolves allowed the rabbits to play beside them. Yet the moment hunger struck, the wolves would devour them.

  The sword sank deeper, the resistance increased… and the blood poured heavier.

  “Please no… please no…”

  “Speak,” Ian ordered coolly.

  “I—I’ll talk! I’ll talk! There are forty-three of us… and two of them are at Level One!” Boban cried.

  “Anything else?” Ian asked.

  “N-no… no.”

  Ian pulled the sword back, but his voice remained icy. “This is your last chance. I don’t give second chances. And I won’t be generous with an enemy. If you know anything else, speak.”

  Fear filled Boban’s eyes. He swallowed painfully. “The… the shift. The shift ends in one hour. If we don’t all return, they’ll know something’s wrong.”

  “Good. Swear loyalty to me,” Ian said.

  “S-swear.”

  **A member of a foreign race has sworn loyalty to you**

  Boban

  Age: 19 / 100

  Race: Goblin

  Class: Warrior

  Grade: Common

  Title: None

  Training Skill: Goblin Triumph (Common) (Low Level — Progress 69%)

  Training Level: 0 (52%)

  Combat Skill: Shadow Blade (Common) (Low Level — Progress 74%)

  Equipment: None (confiscated by Ian)

  Loyalty: 12% (Warning: Extremely low loyalty… betrayal risk high)

  Ian nodded in understanding and didn’t worry.

  Boban—and the others—would submit willingly in the end.

  “My lord, what do we do?” Chris asked.

  They had one hour.

  Within that hour, they could catch two or three more goblins at most… after that, the shift would end, their absence would be noticed, alarms would ring, and the entire mine would be thrown into alert.

  At that point, Ian had only two options:

  – abandon the mine, or

  – fight head-on.

  Both were losses Ian couldn’t afford right now.

  So what should he do?

  { Tell me your thoughts in the comments }