A quick meeting later, they moved.
Based on Shadow's rough estimate, the goblin ruin-city ahead probably housed one to two thousand goblins.
While Gauss observed, he even saw hunting parties returning with fish and game. This tribe was showing real signs of organization—almost societal.
That also explained why they'd targeted and captured the dwarf Torga.
They needed more iron weapons—whether for fighting or hunting.
"Goblins are getting smarter," Gauss muttered, rubbing his temples.
This tribe didn't seem to have much to do with the southern monster nations. Partly geography, partly logic—if they'd had that kind of backing, they'd likely have already learned smelting and forging from those forces.
Meaning this tribe had probably formed naturally out in the vast wilderness: numbers grew, a camp became a settlement, and eventually the chieftain stopped being satisfied with scavenged iron and decided to develop their own forgecraft.
In the past, that wasn't common—otherwise, with goblins' breeding rate, human towns would be in constant crisis.
Stability had existed because goblins mostly fought each other and rarely formed huge unified settlements without an external force pushing them together.
But now that balance felt like it was cracking.
That was bad news for ordinary people.
Even if this place was far from civilization and wouldn't threaten humans immediately, once the tribe matured, they'd inevitably push outward—toward villages, then towns.
This tribe had to be eradicated, Gauss decided.
Too bad they were far from any major water source—otherwise he could've used Control Water to flood the place outright… assuming he'd already secured Torga.
And a Fireball detonating on the surface probably wouldn't collapse their underground structures. Worse, it might bury entrances and make it harder to reach the goblins inside.
So the plan was to quietly eliminate the surface scouts first—without alerting the bulk of the goblins underground.
The tribe's alertness was good. Lookouts sat on different high points facing different directions. Around fifty ground-level scouts patrolled. Any movement would be noticed quickly, and the area outside the ruins was open enough that most adventurers couldn't sneak close.
"Shadow. Alia. We move," Gauss said.
He took only Shadow—best at stealth—and Alia, who could shapeshift.
The more conspicuous Serandur and Albena stayed back with the four dwarves. The dwarves were short, but broad and not quick on their feet—bad for stealth work.
Shadow melted into shadow and wrapped Gauss inside her concealment.
Alia turned into an unremarkable little gray mouse and scampered toward the ruins, tiny paws pattering across the ground.
Inside the shattered ruins, there were barely any traces of "civilization" left.
Thunk.
A goblin rummaging through rubble lifted a sharp, gleaming dagger high overhead. Sunlight flashed on the blade, and it shrieked with excitement.
A weapon that fine was rare for an ordinary goblin.
But its squealing drew nearby goblins in.
When they saw the pretty dagger, their dull eyes brightened with greed.
They glanced around—no danger—then hopped down the broken steps with quick, practiced movements.
"Gak-gak!"
They lunged for the weapon.
While they fought over it, a snake-like shadow slid across the ground.
And at just the right moment, several thin water threads drifted out of the darkness.
Shff.
A faint sound—almost nothing—then red ring-thin lines appeared around several goblin necks all at once.
Those delicate threads were death itself.
Two human-shaped shadows caught the heads before they hit the ground, steadied the bodies, and passed them to Gauss—who stored them in his spatial pouch.
Again and again, they repeated the method: bait disputes, or have Alia lure goblins off post as "prey," then kill and clean the scene.
Fast. Efficient.
The surface scouts thinned rapidly.
By the time the last lookout died, nothing had gone wrong.
Maybe some goblin boss had taught them how to stand watch—but never overestimate green-skin "security." Their greed was carved into their bones, and this simple trick worked every time.
A crow returned with a signal.
Serandur, Albena, and the dwarves understood: the surface perimeter was clear.
They approached carefully.
"So we go down and find Torga?" Bruno asked.
"Not yet," Gauss said.
He absorbed the last traces of goblin "spirit" he'd gathered.
He'd absorbed so much by now that the clay goblins he could create had become uncannily realistic—appearance, posture, even the stink.
Only one thing was missing: they couldn't speak goblin.
In the dwarves' startled stares, Gauss flicked his hand—clay shifted, reshaped—and a vivid, ugly green goblin stood beside them.
It looked so real the dwarves instinctively reached for their weapons.
"Let my magic goblin go in first and scout," Gauss said.
He'd chosen to strike right after a hunting team returned underground; there likely wouldn't be another return party for a short while.
Before a full assault, he needed to locate Torga—otherwise once fighting started, the chaos would make her harder to find, and stray attacks could hit her.
Soon, the goblin Gauss created trudged toward the underground entrance under his control.
Gauss shared its vision.
He knew goblin mannerisms well enough to make its movements indistinguishable from a real one.
The entrance sat in the central plaza of the ruins.
Here, goblin numbers rose. They were hauling the hunting party's catch onto carts to deliver to the underground living areas.
While they worked, one goblin slipped into the crowd without anyone noticing.
Under a goblin boss's watchful eye, the goblins drooled—but kept pushing.
Not all were obedient. One goblin that couldn't control its hunger was already being punished, flayed and screaming.
Following the "others," Gauss's puppet goblin entered the underground settlement.
After a steep passage, the view opened into a wide subterranean space.
It looked like an old underground defensive structure—meant to shelter human civilians during raids.
Now it was a goblin nest.
Down here, there were even more goblins.
Some hacked at stone with crude tools, expanding tunnels. Others ground materials into primitive implements.
Gauss also spotted multiple big goblins.
Once the cart reached the storage area, Gauss's goblin puppet didn't return topside. It slipped away.
He studied the settlement.
A few wooden houses stood in the center—likely where the "rulers" lived.
Most goblins slept wherever they could, on straw. If someone had a stick-supported lean-to, that already counted as "wealthy."
So they had numbers, but their development level wasn't that high.
Gauss's conclusion: a distorted tribe—early-stage growth, quantity without quality.
A wolf padded close and sniffed his puppet goblin, then trotted away, satisfied.
That reassured Gauss further: the disguise was good.
He continued searching.
…
In a cell corridor, a red-haired dwarf woman finally stirred.
Torga's eyes cracked open.
She hadn't eaten in two days.
Those cursed green vermin hadn't given her so much as a crust.
The lingering poison left her limbs weak, her strength drained. Right now, even a single goblin could probably kill her.
The only comfort: the goblin leader seemed to value her forging skill. They'd imprisoned her—nothing worse.
If they'd intended to violate her, she'd have ended her life before it happened.
Now, she could only hope Bruno would realize she was missing, and do something.
Footsteps echoed.
They stopped right outside her cage.
Torga forced her head up, wary.
A goblin—neither fat nor thin—stood there, staring at her.
It was the first goblin to come directly to her since she'd been captured.
So… was it finally happening?
Her heart tightened.
Then the goblin spoke.
"Don't be afraid. I'm here to save you."
"…What?"
Torga's eyes widened.
It spoke perfect Common.
"I'm an adventurer hired by Bruno. This is a magic mimic body."
Hearing Bruno's name, relief hit her so hard she almost sagged.
Even the goblin's ugly face seemed… kinder.
What could be worse than being a woman trapped in a goblin nest?
She hadn't dared sleep deeply for two days.
"Eat first."
Under Gauss's control, the goblin puppet sliced open its slightly bulging belly and produced white bread and a water skin from inside.
"Thank you."
Torga ate immediately, no pretense. The food helped—just a little.
Gauss pried open the bars.
"I've confirmed your location. The team outside will likely begin the assault soon."
He helped Torga out.
"This goblin body will stay here to protect you."
"Alright."
Even with food, the poison still sapped her. She had no fight left.
She followed the "goblin's" instructions without question.
Then, from outside—noise. Shouts. Chaos.
The rescue assault had begun.
"Can they really beat this tribe?" she couldn't stop herself from worrying.
The goblin warlord who'd taken her was terrifyingly strong. Bruno couldn't face it. And there were so many goblins—sheer numbers alone could drown rescuers.
A hard impact shook the wall, dust drifting down.
The battle sounded brutal.
Torga could only pray the rescuers were capable—pray she wouldn't be saved at the cost of more lives.
"Brr—so cold."
She shivered. The air temperature was dropping rapidly.
Snow outside?
She wasn't wrong.
In the underground city's central area, a howling blizzard was ripping through goblins like a localized disaster.
Outside, dwarves guarding the exits to prevent goblins from fleeing stared at the storm, eyes wide.
Even expecting Gauss to be strong, seeing it in reality still shocked them.
Goblins were being harvested in swaths.
Bruno thanked every ancestor he'd ever had for finding Gauss. If he'd hired weaker adventurers, they might've died here.
During the spellwork, a goblin of roughly human height—lean, sharp—suddenly appeared beside Gauss.
"Watch out!" the dwarves shouted.
They couldn't understand how Gauss's companions had "let" the leader reach the caster.
Clang!
Before anyone could panic, Gauss's other hand formed a blue-and-gold water sword.
The blade met the curved saber in a clean block.
The goblin warlord's eyes flickered with real alarm.
"So strong…"
It had hidden itself perfectly. It had even allowed its tribe to die just to create an opening—waiting for the human to focus on magic, then blinking in and striking.
Perfect plan. Perfect execution.
Only the last step failed.
In a direct clash, it realized this "caster" wasn't weaker than it was.
Maybe stronger.
Boom!
A shockwave burst outward.
Gauss surged into Second-Stage Ghoul Form with Brute Force, blasting the goblin warlord backward.
And with his staff hand, he snapped out a Level 4 spell.
"Confusion!"
The warlord hit the ground, steadied itself, and tried to move—
—and its mind went blank.
I ate fish yesterday. Today I should eat boar… My hut is too small… That dwarf…
Trash thoughts flooded in, overwhelming everything.
Gauss closed the distance in a blink.
He couldn't help thinking: Confusion was even better than he'd expected.
Moterra's Sword flared with holy brilliance—stronger than ever under Gauss's hand.
Every goblin-killing advantage he carried stacked at once.
Shff—shff—shff!
Gauss's swordwork became a blur.
Then he stepped back.
The warlord exploded into pieces, cut into dozens of chunks.
Gauss exhaled, short and sharp.
He really did find goblins easiest to kill.
The dwarves stared, throats bobbing.
"So… so strong…"
~~~
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