From beneath her cloak, Meva stepped lightly out from the shadows of the trees and silently returned to the group.
She barely made a sound.
"What did you find?"
The Night Owl party turned to her.
"Here."
Meva pulled a sheet of yellowed parchment from her cloak and laid it flat on a rock in the center of the group.
Simple sketches and markings covered the surface—hand-drawn notes and symbols used to convey her findings.
This was the benefit of having a rogue apprentice on the team: she was both their scout and assassin.
Rogues weren't known for brute force in battle, and their role in a party often seemed subtle—but when it came to specialized tasks, few could match their utility.
They excelled in stealth, infiltration, trap-setting and disarming, lockpicking, climbing, and recon.
In combat, they focused on planning and exploiting weak points with precision strikes, rather than brute strength.
Even though Meva was only an apprentice, her stealth skills made her an irreplaceable part of the team.
Back to the map.
Meva began briefing everyone on the intel she'd just gathered.
There were about ten rough squares drawn on the parchment—each representing a building.
Their mission was to clear out a small group of goblins that had settled in the ruins of an abandoned village.
The area had fallen into disrepair long ago, but recently a group of goblins had moved in and begun using it as a base.
Although the goblins hadn't yet posed a direct threat to the nearby Millstone Village, the villagers had reported them to the Adventurer's Guild—wanting to eliminate the threat before it grew out of control.
"There are roughly fifteen to twenty-two goblins in total," Meva said. "Some are hiding inside buildings, so the exact count is tricky."
"They're scattered around. I marked their positions on the map."
"Most are using crude weapons—stone spears, wooden clubs, shields, and a few steel knives. There are four goblins with bows."
Her explanation was short and to the point.
"Any sign of a special leader?" Laevin asked.
"None."
"Good. Then we'll stick to the original plan."
"Everyone, get ready for battle. We'll ambush them here," Laevin said, pointing to a spot on the map. "Meva, see if you can create a bit of noise without alerting the whole group. If you can lure out a few first, we can conserve energy by picking them off."
"Even if it fails, we have the strength to take them all head-on."
"Just be cautious of the archers."
"Got it."
No one objected to the orders. They all began quietly helping one another with their armor and gear.
As the newcomer, Gauss didn't have much to contribute to the planning phase.
This mission wasn't particularly difficult, and the party was already working with well-established synergy.
For now, Gauss focused on observing and learning.
They had arrived near the ruins the night before, set up camp, and gotten a full night's rest. Everyone was in peak condition.
After strapping on his leather armor, bracers, and greaves, Gauss ran a few warm-up drills with his rapier—basic thrusts and footwork.
Lately, he'd been squeezing in time to practice the fundamentals of swordsmanship.
No formal instructor, of course, but even untrained repetition would yield results eventually.
At the very least, his thrusts were now far sharper and more controlled than when he'd first picked up the blade.
The rapier was ideal for precise, piercing attacks. Though it could slash and parry, stabbing remained its core method of offense.
It also required speed and agility—something Gauss lacked under normal conditions.
But when he activated his heightened mental state—what he called "low-budget bullet time," courtesy of his 7 INT—he could fully utilize the rapier's strengths.
Nearby, Doyle had just finished suiting up in his scale mail and finally had time to look around.
His eyes landed on Gauss, who was off to the side performing a series of rapid lunges and footwork drills.
"...What the hell is he doing?" A big question mark basically popped over his head.
He'd seen that Gauss carried a rapier, sure—
but most mages carried sidearms for self-defense. That wasn't unusual.
What was unusual was how seriously Gauss was warming up, like he was planning to use it in actual combat.
Was this guy really a mage?
Still, Doyle didn't have time to dwell on it. He had his own warm-up to finish.
Once everyone was fully prepped, they moved toward their ambush site.
This was the difference between experienced adventuring parties and rookie teams.
Even though they outmatched the goblins in a head-to-head fight, they still chose to set up an ambush and divide the enemy.
As Laevin had said: just because you can win a frontal fight doesn't mean you should—not when it burns more stamina and exposes you to risk.
Out here in the wilds, anything could happen.
Even roads near human settlements weren't totally safe.
Better to preserve energy—you never know what might show up next.
Soon after, Meva gave them a nod and slipped away into the shadows, vanishing toward the ruins.
She moved like a shadow herself—silent and fluid, like a cat.
The others found their hiding spots and waited.
Then, soft footsteps echoed from the direction of the ruins.
But they weren't Meva's.
A small group of goblins, chest-high and green-skinned, came creeping out from the buildings.
One of the lead goblins suddenly let out an excited squawk.
He'd spotted something.
Under a nearby tree, just ahead of them, a wounded grey rabbit was thrashing on the ground—its legs kicking feebly, blood soaking into the grass.
"Wah wah wah!"
"Wah wah wah wah!"
The goblins started chattering to one another, clearly thrilled.
Still, they didn't rush in blindly.
They grouped up cautiously, scanning the area as they inched closer to the bait.
Goblins may not have been smart, but they were naturally crafty.
Even with food dangling in front of their faces, they kept formation and remained alert.
That's what made goblins so dangerous—they fought with surprising discipline until their numbers were broken.