Chapter 6 – Human Invasion
Altair glanced at Lyra's current status:
Individual Name: Noble Human (Lyra Rejerson)
Age: 66 years (lifespan)
Attack: 4 (+11)
Vitality: 26 (+63)
Magic: 11 (+15)
Intelligence: 20 (+41)
Impact Resistance: 3 (+7)
Magic Resistance: 0 (+0)
Attribute: None (not cultivated)
Occupation: None (cannot be determined)
Special Ability: Doran's Shield
Genetic Talent: Skill [Doran's Shield]
Current Hope Value: 25
Her vitality had increased?
If Altair remembered correctly, Lyra's vitality had been 48, but now it had risen by 15 points in just a single day. Was this the effect of the herbs she had consumed?
If there were herbs that could increase vitality, perhaps there were also herbs that could raise attack power? he thought. I must investigate this later. But for now, it's better to look into the possible connection between this human girl and the goblin clan.
Altair slowly stood, picked up the hot roasted beggar's chicken he had just cooked with a fork, sprinkled some spices to stimulate appetite, and walked out toward Lyra's room.
Lyra, who had been knitting a sweater to pass the time, turned and smiled when she saw Altair approach carrying food.
"You're here."
Lyra's meals being personally handled by Altair made her feel much calmer. Imagining noble elves enslaved by vile goblins, she felt her own situation wasn't so bad.
"All right, dinner is ready," Altair said.
"You made this? It smells delicious—better than my chef's cooking," Lyra replied, quickly washing her hands before devouring the beggar's chicken with great appetite.
Altair washed his hands, then gently stroked Lyra's silky hair. With care, her skin had become even smoother, fair as snow. Her long black hair carried the sweet scent of a young maiden—the scent of reproduction.
After the meal, Lyra looked satisfied. Altair helped her wash her hands and face, then carried her to bed.
"Eh, hey, hey?" Lyra gasped in surprise.
"Time is up," Altair replied curtly.
"Ah? But I… I'm not mentally prepared, I… wuwu…"
…
Beneath the blanket, Lyra—with delicate collarbones, fair skin covered in kiss marks—bit her soft lip, her small hand clutching Altair's hand, tears welling at the corners of her eyes.
"Is it really possible that we can leave this place one day?"
"Yes. I will make it happen," Altair answered, embracing her and soothing her with gentle words.
Lyra's maidenhood was lost within the goblin cave.
The ugly goblins were brutal, but the elf-like being who now possessed her was gentle and tender. In that way, Lyra's young heart found a measure of comfort.
Lyra's Hope Value: 23
That afternoon, a patrolling goblin ran into the cave, bringing grave news: a group of humans had entered the Misty Forest and were prowling in their territory. They must be searching for the cave where Lyra was held captive.
Altair glanced toward Lyra's room, then stood and gave the order:
"In that case—fight them, my warriors!"
The goblins roared with excitement. The voice of their emperor was the greatest stimulant to their souls!
A long sword was pulled from the body of a green goblin, its left ear severed. Rudgar did not halt his hand. His face showed a trace of relief as his sharp eyes scanned the surroundings.
"Goblins are still goblins. Weak and fragile," he said.
"It's surprising Lady Lyra could even be assaulted by such creatures," he added.
"Bastard!" The guards could not bear his words.
The deputy captain had to step between them to prevent a brawl with the adventurers. At this moment, the two groups stood divided: the noble guards and the adventurers.
As the official escorts of nobility, the guards were held in far higher regard (especially in the eyes of young ladies) than adventurers. The adventurers themselves were often scorned, seen as uncultured, reckless men who only knew how to gamble with their lives.
This tension made relations between the two groups increasingly hostile.
But none of them realized that every move they made was being watched by the eyes of green goblins—eyes glowing with golden light.
Inside the cave, Altair sat upon his throne, his eyes also shining gold. He realized that through the eyes of the green goblins, he could see the outside world. He could control any goblin he had touched, even inhabit their bodies with his own spirit.
"Lure them into the areas with the most traps," he commanded.
In the forest, goblins began to move silently.
"Look, a goblin! He's running, chase him! He must be leading us to their cave!" a human shouted.
The goblin fled like a beast, only to be slain in a single strike. Yet the rescue team immediately gave chase.
Along the way, they cut down several goblins.
But one of the humans triggered a trap. A massive tree stump swung down from above, smashing into him hard. His body was flung aside, landing with limp limbs—dead, eyes wide open.
"Stop! There are traps here!" Klethar shouted. Everyone halted.
The death of the guard cast a heavy pall over the group.
"The intelligence of Purple Goblins nearly rivals humans. Setting traps is one of their tactics!"
The deputy captain of the guards scowled. "Why are you saying this only now?"
"I warned you before we came here," Klethar retorted.
Silence fell.
"I will lead the team. Any objections?"
None objected. Klethar commanded enough authority among adventurers, and the guards were silenced by the trauma of their comrade's death.
Klethar smiled faintly. He had been waiting for this chance. Without a serious incident, the noble guards would never agree to listen to mere adventurers.
"I've heard your guards are disciplined. I hope that when I take command, you can be as steady as rumor claims."
His words were polite yet carried a warning. Like the other adventurers, he doubted the competence of noble guards. If they were truly reliable, Lady Lyra would never have been captured by goblins wielding mere level-1 magic.
Klethar then added, "There are three types of goblin traps: pits, swinging logs, and hidden arrows."