Chapter Thirty-Three: Three Women, One Drama

A fine time, a beautiful scene: fragrant carriages and lovely women. You wander among a hundred blooming flowers, the crisp calls of orioles in your ear, the pure scent of blossoms in the air. This is paradise, with such dazzling and aromatic flowers free for the picking—what are you waiting for? The beautiful maidens beside you beckon; hesitate no longer, brave youth, go forth and—

With a snap, Jen shut off the daily quest list before him.

Since the mind flayer incident, Jen had received no particularly important daily quests. Perhaps, having calculated that Jen was currently idle to a fault, the infuriating system had quickly reverted to its usual abominable self. It was either urging Jen to bully old women or to steal lollipops from little girls. There was even a time, just after Jen awoke, when the system issued a daily quest instructing him to steal Pixie's underwear!

A system so deranged it wouldn’t even spare a gnome’s underwear—how depraved could it be?

Fortunately, daily quests were of the sort that were convenient if completed but harmless if ignored, so Jen didn’t encounter any trouble from neglecting them. Still, he couldn’t help but worry. Since the dungeon had been constructed, the system’s sense of decency had plummeted—a ton at a time. For now, it was still within normal bounds, but Jen worried that, one day, the system might go mad and disregard race or gender altogether… Was it possible to reset this thing and start over?

Yet, for all its madness, today’s daily quest was, in fact, a sign that this battle would hold no real danger for Jen. He was well aware of this, for goblins themselves were a cowardly and wicked race—the quintessential bullies who preyed on the weak with numbers.

Their battle tactics were simple: if they saw an enemy outnumbered, they would swarm forth, crush the foe, and snatch up anything not nailed down.

But these creatures had no pride whatsoever. The moment they realized they were outmatched, they would flee faster than anyone. Moreover, they had little learning capacity—remembered their feasts, not their beatings. They only recalled who was lucrative to rob, not how many had died trying—goblins bred like cockroaches; even after heavy losses, a couple of years would see their numbers rebound as strong as ever.

That was why Kardec had so readily “loaned” Jen fifty duergar warriors—he’d had enough of those damned goblins. If the adversary had been something formidable, like raptors or fungal folk, he could accept the loss. But goblins? Creatures a single duergar could slaughter by the dozen, yet they’d been made to suffer such humiliation? No wonder the duergar were furious.

But what could they do? Goblins, with their cockroach-like fertility, could roam the underdark with impunity, unconcerned by heavy casualties. Duergar, on the other hand, lacked such prowess; the longer-lived the race, the lower its birthrate. Duergar did not live as long as elves or dragons, but far longer than humans—three centuries was not uncommon, though in the underdark, few lived out their natural span.

Trading duergar for goblins was never a fair deal, not even a hundred to one. Worse, no one knew how many goblins lurked in their hidden lairs. This was one reason why Brandon Stonehold had long hesitated to wipe them out.

But for Jen, this posed no issue. With the system’s map, he had already scouted out the goblins’ gathering place in detail—their tribe, numbers, and the terrain of their lair were no secret to him.

The hardest part, then, was deciding just how to exterminate these vexing pests.

“Why not just attack directly?” Vilna’s suggestion was simple and direct.

“In Brisethold, I’ve dealt with those cowardly weaklings before. Kill enough of them and the rest scatter like headless flies. Then let them serve as bait for the other monsters of the underdark. Problem solved.”

“You haven’t understood the core of the master’s plan, Miss Vilna.” As Jen’s adjutant and the one who understood him best, Enoya quickly objected. “Our aim is not just to drive them off, but to annihilate them completely—to root them out. Dark elves are quite experienced in this regard; do I really need to remind you?”

“Don’t compare dark elves to those goblins!” Vilna’s eyes widened in fury as she glared at Enoya. The latter, as always, covered her mouth with a light laugh and cast Vilna a serene look.

Jen paid no mind to their argument. Instead, he turned to Iris, who stood beside him, ill at ease.

“Miss Iris, do you have any thoughts?”

“Um… Ah? M-me?” Iris, arms crossed to shield herself, clearly hadn’t been paying attention to the war council, her gaze flitting nervously about. She still hadn’t adjusted to this strange situation. Startled by Jen’s question, she hesitated, then offered her answer.

“Couldn’t we try luring the goblins out and picking them off? They aren’t a clever race; a little guidance and they’d surely fall for it.”

In fact, Iris still didn’t know why Jen had brought her here. She was, after all, a prisoner, though unrestricted, and had no intention of fleeing. First, she knew Enoya was undead and her vaunted magic flames would be useless. Second, the dungeon now knew she hailed from Onyx Stonehold; if she disappeared, Jen would surely cause trouble for her people.

She had no desire to see her father’s hard-won refuge destroyed because of her. Once she understood this, escape never crossed her mind—unless Jen himself allowed her to leave.

“Of course goblins are easy to fool, girl.” The duergar standing nearby snorted, eyeing her with disdain. “But if they were only stupid, we’d have dealt with them long ago! The moment they sense danger, they run faster than anyone. We’ve set traps before, but they always managed to escape. And it’s not just goblins; it’s never that easy to wipe out an entire enemy.”

“That’s…” Iris blushed. Indeed, defeating goblins was not difficult; she herself could manage it. Her magic flames were the bane of all living things, and aside from the immune Enoya, few could withstand them. But to guarantee that none escaped was a different matter entirely.

If it were another race, a simple defeat would suffice. Even the dark elves Enoya mocked did not annihilate every last foe—lowly slaves or high priests would be kept as spoils of war. But goblins were another matter; if even a few survived, they’d return in a few years with fresh hordes. Kardec, hoping to expand Brandon Stonehold after driving them off, naturally wanted the goblins eliminated as thoroughly as possible.

Jen listened to the discussion without comment, merely glancing curiously at the duergar who had spoken. This was Torg Ironbreaker, leader of Mirabar’s Axe, whom Kardec had introduced. From the journey’s start, Torg had been gruff and caustic, but Jen wasn’t surprised. It was clear that Torg and Kardec were not allies—perhaps even rivals. Kardec’s decision to send him along might have been an attempt to weaken his position—or, ideally, to see him suffer the same fate that had befallen Vilna.

Jen had observed that Torg was unlike most duergar—less cunning, more forthright, almost dwarven in temperament. Little wonder he was not well-liked in Brandon Stonehold.

“Master, what do you think?” Enoya, as Jen’s adjutant, refrained from voicing an opinion. Since everyone else had spoken, it was for Jen to decide. At her words, Torg grunted but said nothing.

So, even a nail becomes a noodle before a necromancer.

“You all have a point. Our numbers are too few for a single overwhelming assault. Still, goblins’ low intelligence can be exploited…” Jen paused, then continued, “So, let’s use both approaches. We split into two groups: one draws the goblin warriors’ attention, while the other circles behind to surround their lair. Then we attack together, maximizing our chances to wipe them out.”

“That could work,” Torg said unexpectedly, breaking his earlier silence. “Those vermin, when attacked, always run home crying for their mothers. If we cut off their retreat, we could take them all. But…” He eyed Jen, lips curling, “If it were that easy to find their lair, we’d have dealt with them ourselves.”

This was the crux of it. The duergar’s raids had failed because the goblins’ lair was so well hidden; even master builders like the duergar struggled to track them down.

But for Jen, this was no issue.

“Don’t worry, I’ve already made preparations.” With a confident smile, Jen turned to the others. “Ladies, it’s time for you to show what you can do.”

“Eh?” Vilna and Iris both froze at Jen’s words, Enoya excepted.

What did this have to do with them?