Chapter 57: The First Strike (Please keep reading)

Andy was in a great mood.

To be more precise, Andy had been in a great mood for the past two ten-day periods; today was simply even better.

Andy hadn't expected that those shiny stones could actually be exchanged for grain, and even less so that the human who looked so fierce would actually keep his promise—not only delivering the grain as agreed but also agreeing to the request for three wagons at a time.

What a fool.

No matter how beautiful those stones were, they couldn't be eaten.

How could they possibly be as practical as grain?

With these three wagons of grain, more goblins would join his tribe.

With these three wagons of grain, he could make his clansmen dig up at least six wagons' worth of shiny stones to trade.

Then, he would use those six wagons of grain to dig up stones worth twelve wagons of grain.

And so it would go, cycle after cycle.

Andy's fingers were limited, and he couldn't continue calculating the math any further. Regardless, by the time it was done, he would have a vast, vast amount of grain, and he would have a vast, vast number of clansmen.

Everything was going to be incredibly wonderful.

Andy had refused the half-ogre's escort; he had learned his lesson this time and brought enough of his own clansmen.

If he were escorted by the half-ogre, Andy wouldn't feel at ease. That fellow was notoriously greedy; he might just turn around and snatch all the grain for himself.

The three large wagons of grain from the Black Well tribe were loaded onto the crude goblin trailers Andy had brought, totaling over twenty wagons. Surrounded and pulled by nearly a hundred goblins, the convoy chattered and squeaked as it headed toward the Spirit Crystal Mine.

Including Andy, every single goblin was seeing this much grain for the first time.

Many crowded around Andy, chirping and using their meager vocabulary to flatter him, believing that it was under his brilliant leadership that they had obtained so much grain so smoothly.

Andy floated along, basking in the flattery.

"Chief, there are many goblins from other tribes following us. Do you think they want to steal our grain?"

A goblin's warning interrupted Andy's intoxication.

Andy turned to look. Indeed, a considerable number of suspicious figures were following their convoy, all of them unfamiliar goblin faces.

"Those greedy bastards actually want something for nothing!" Andy gritted his teeth in resentment. He despised such goblins the most. If you have the ability, go steal the grain from the Black Well tribe—their grain is piled as high as a mountain. What kind of skill is it to rob your own kin?

"Quick, quick! Tell them to pick up the pace! We need to get back to the nest early. Once we're home, we'll be safe," Andy urged hurriedly.

He was starting to regret not letting the half-ogre escort them. If he were here, those bastards certainly wouldn't dare to act recklessly.

But it was clearly too late to go back and call the half-ogre; it was better to just hurry on the road.

As the number of goblins following the grain convoy increased, they became bolder. Some jogged alongside them, while others threw stones to intimidate them—all typical, low-level goblin tactics.

Andy had his clansmen respond with a volley of slingshots, striking many of the goblins who had gotten too close and leaving them covered in bumps.

For those scattered, unorganized goblins, this method was indeed effective. However, as a large-scale goblin tribe appeared, this type of attack—which was more deterrent than lethal—became completely ineffective.

"Charge! Steal the grain! The grain is ours... ours..."

"Grain... so much grain... it's all ours... Charge!"

With a scream from that goblin tribe's leader, who brandished a crude weapon and a small wooden shield, they launched a charge.

Regardless of whether they belonged to that specific tribe or not, it seemed as if everyone had received the signal. They all set off with their short little legs, rushing toward Andy's grain convoy. Even when stray stones hit their heads, they didn't care; their hunger for grain far outweighed the pain.

"Don't panic! Don't lose order! Guard the grain! Guard our grain! It's ours! Drive them away!" Andy shouted frantically.

It was unclear whether his orders were working or if the grain was simply too tempting, causing Andy's tribesmen to refuse to give up. They stood guard by the grain wagons, continuously retaliating with slingshots. However, the lethality of such a ranged weapon was quite limited; even the fragile goblins were barely being knocked down.

On the contrary, the goblins rushing toward them were coming in massive, swarming numbers from all over the hills; it was impossible to tell where they had all emerged from.

*Wooo... Woooo...*

A low, long blast from an ox horn drifted from behind the goblin grain convoy.

"Azure Fang, attack!"

Accompanied by a vigorous command, a synchronized chorus of barks erupted.

Squads of kobold soldiers charged out from behind the hillside.

The leather armor on these kobold soldiers varied in color and style, some even appearing slightly ill-fitting, but the armor rate exceeded seventy percent.

The first two rows charging at the front held kobold spears.

The middle two rows held short swords and small wooden shields.

The final two rows had pairs of short knives tucked into their belts; as they charged, they swung slingshots, hurling stones one after another.

Compared to the stones thrown by Andy's clansmen, their stones were both accurate and fierce. These weren't just random stones picked up from the roadside, but specially polished iron ore waste, far heavier than ordinary stones.

Being hit by these stones resulted in more than just bleeding heads; many goblins were directly struck with broken bones, and some unfortunate ones had their skulls split open.

What shocked the goblins most was that these kobolds maintained a neat formation, with no more than one person's width between them, and their footsteps were unexpectedly coordinated.

Twelve kobolds formed a horizontal line. As they closed in on the nearest goblins, they let out a simultaneous shout, lowered their bodies, and thrust their spears diagonally forward. Accompanied by a full sprint, they easily drove the spears into the backs of the goblins in front of them.

Before the goblins who had just dodged the thrust could even show a look of relief, another row of kobold spearmen, following no more than five paces behind, charged up and skewered them like candied haws.

Even if they dodged this wave of attack, there were two more rounds of sword and shield strikes waiting.

The four waves of impact were like four overlapping waves, one following the other.

The scattered goblins who were at the forefront were unable to form any effective resistance and were crushed to death on their path of attack.

The assault of the first row of kobold spearmen was only halted when they encountered the more densely populated goblin tribe.

This delay wasn't because the goblins had organized a proper resistance, but purely because they were using goblin lives as filler; the crowd was too thick for the first row of kobold spearmen to break through.

The second row following closely behind immediately inserted themselves into the gaps, skewering a heap of goblins.

At this moment, the goblins who had come out to rob finally realized what was happening.

"Those are the Black Well kobolds! That ogre must have followed them..."

"Run! It's the Black Well kobolds!"

Having identified them, the goblins scattered in all directions.

The sharp assault of the kobolds was one factor, but the fearsome reputation of the half-ogre's roar was still the primary cause.

"Is it over already?" The eager half-ogre watched, dumbfounded, as the goblins scattered across the hills like rabbits. He was a bit stunned; he hadn't even joined the fight yet.