Chapter 20: The Dagger is Revealed

"Understood." Darren patted his chest and said, "Don't worry, Young Master Gavin. I will certainly protect this book before handing it over to Captain Zaranda. It's just that these things are useless to me even if you give them to me; I can't read."

As he spoke the last part, Darren was visibly embarrassed.

On this point, Gavin had clearly miscalculated. Earth's literacy rate had made him forget just how low the literacy rate in Faerûn actually was. "How about this? Wait for me a moment while I write a letter. When the time comes, hand it over to Captain Zaranda along with this. Someone will teach you to read in the future. Study hard when that time comes; literacy is just as important as sword training. You must take it seriously. Believe me, it will benefit you in the future."

"Alright, alright, alright! Thank you, Young Master! Thank you, Young Master!" Darren nodded repeatedly without any hesitation; this was something he had dreamed of.

It took Gavin only a few minutes to write another letter. He folded it simply and handed it to Darren, since the fellow couldn't read it anyway.

Gavin jumped out of the carriage and said to Darren, "Just wait inside the carriage. Remember, no matter what happens outside, it has nothing to do with you. Just wait here for Captain Zaranda."

"What if Captain Zaranda doesn't come?" Darren asked hurriedly.

"Hmm." Gavin paused, having overlooked that possibility. "Wait until the caravan sets off. If Captain Zaranda hasn't arrived by then, take the things I gave you and go find her."

"Alright," Darren nodded repeatedly.

After leaving the carriage, Gavin led the goblin sorcerer to a deserted corner and picked the ropes off his hands. "Have you prepared the Fireball spell I asked for?"

"It's ready," the goblin sorcerer nodded repeatedly.

"Very good. Then wait here with me!" Gavin sat down on the ground, and the goblin sorcerer followed suit, not asking a single extra question from beginning to end.

An hour passed after Zaranda led the cavalry out on the raid.

"The time is about right." Gavin jumped up and began to explain his plan to the goblin sorcerer. "See that carriage? The most ornate one. In a moment, aim a Fireball at that carriage. Calculate the impact point to avoid those two guards. After casting it, mount that warhorse over there and run. As long as you escape, you are free. Remember, do not let yourself be captured alive again, otherwise, I will have no choice but to kill you."

The carriage Gavin pointed to belonged to none other than Roan.

According to his original plan, he would have personally dealt with these two troublemakers before leaving.

But after capturing the goblin sorcerer alive, he had a new option—killing with a borrowed knife.

The reason for all this trouble was, ultimately, for Zaranda's sake. He wanted to avoid the reputation of a fratricide. Even if anyone with eyes could see it was his scheme, at least it left room for reconciliation with Zaranda, paving the way for his eventual return.

Coincidentally, Aust had just suffered a major setback at Gavin's hands and had certainly run back to complain to his master; he had not left yet.

Gavin could imagine with perfect clarity the scene of the two of them cursing him together.

Now was the perfect time to wipe them all out in one go.

*Thud!*

The goblin sorcerer fell to his knees on the spot, sobbing uncontrollably, "I beg you, please let me go! I'll do whatever you want, just please let me go..."

Clearly, this goblin was a smart one; from just a few words, he had grasped the gist of Gavin's plan.

He understood that Gavin needed a scapegoat. Compared to a living person, a dead person keeps secrets better.

He was afraid that once he threw the Fireball, his fate would be certain death.

Gavin killing him with a blade and pinning all the blame on himself would be the truly safest method.

Gavin naturally knew why the goblin was reacting this way, and his expression darkened. In the other's eyes, was his heart really that black?

But the arrow was on the string and had to be released; if he missed this chance, he didn't know when the next one would come.

Gavin patiently explained a few more sentences: "Most of the army here has already gone to attack another goblin tribe. As long as you do as I say, your chances of survival are very high. When that happens, I will chase you on horseback. As long as you don't fall into anyone else's hands, I will give you a chance to live. But if you refuse to cooperate with my plan, I will have to send you on your way. You might as well take a gamble—gamble on my heart not being as black as you think."

When the dagger was pressed against his throat, the goblin knew he had no choice.

If he did it, there might be a sliver of hope.

If he didn't, there would be nothing but death.

The goblin's face turned ashen. His hands began to weave hand signs rapidly as he chanted an incantation to synchronize with the Weave. A large amount of magical energy gathered around him, quickly coalescing into a fireball the size of a fist.

At this moment, the goblin could clearly feel the chilling breath of death from the dagger at his neck. If his Fireball was not launched at the target, the blade would immediately slit his throat.

To trade the life of an unrelated person for a chance at survival—how to choose?

In the mind of a goblin with little moral compass, there was no need to guess.

Once the fireball left the goblin's hands, it flew forward at a terrifying speed, growing larger and larger as the surrounding mana responded to its suction.

By the time it reached the carriage, it had grown to the size of a human head.

*Boom!*

A violent explosion flipped the luxurious carriage over. Two figures flew out from the carriage and crashed to the ground, their fates unknown.

The impact point of the Fireball had been precisely controlled, just barely avoiding the two heavy guards in front of the carriage.

However, they were too close to the blast. The powerful wave of flame and pressure sent them tumbling several times before they lay motionless on the ground, whether dead from the shock or merely knocked unconscious, was unclear.

"Run!"

Gavin barked at the goblin sorcerer and charged out like a cannonball. As he ran, he shouted loudly, "Catch the assassin! Catch the assassin! That damned goblin assassinated the Baron!"

The goblin sorcerer, who had been closing his eyes waiting for death, was stunned for a moment before being overwhelmed by immense joy. He hadn't expected the man to actually keep his promise—a promise made to a goblin.

In the next second, a massive survival instinct took over. He shook his short legs and sprinted toward the nearest warhorse.

Upon reaching it, he realized the horse had clearly been arranged by the human named Gavin; the reins were merely loosely draped there, and he could pull them from the loop. Within sight, there was a gap in the camp; with just a few leaps on horseback, he could leave this temporary camp. The possibility of life was waving to him from not far away, and the goblin sorcerer galloped forward without hesitation.

On the other side, the two heavy guards assigned to Roan by Zaranda ran out in disarray. Seeing the scene, their eyes instantly turned red with rage. Without thinking, they unhitched a nearby warhorse and chased after the goblin who had just exited the camp.

As soon as they were gone, Gavin, who had been hiding in the shadows, darted forward. He checked the heavy guards who had been blown away by the Fireball and, finding they were only unconscious, ignored them and rushed toward Roan and Aust, who were also lying motionless.

After all, with a carriage between them, who could know if a single Fireball had truly taken them both out?

In Faerûn, even the dead could be brought back to life, let alone those who still had a breath left in them.