Capítulo 148: Star Rail: Starting with a Lyre, Living off Busking [148]
In mere moments, the goblins' numbers dwindled to single digits. Those who survived scattered in terror, oblivious to the predators who had them in their sights.
"Ugh, seriously! You filthy goblins dare to come this close to my home!"
Kneeling gracefully, the elf archer pulled her sturdy red pinewood bow taut and let loose a volley of sprouting arrows with a sharp whoosh.
Three arrows cut through the air in rapid succession.
"Gaaah?!"
"Guh-zza!!"
"Grk?!"
One by one, the goblin riders were struck in their eye sockets or throats, tumbling off their wolves and into the river, where the rushing waters consumed them.
With her impeccable skill, the elf archer ignored the rocking of Mokra Mbembe's back and the obstructive fog, striking her targets unerringly.
Her long ears twitched ever so slightly, catching even the faintest sounds of the battlefield.
Including—
"So, March, I think it's about time you let go of me."
Nahida's small hands were pushing against March 7th's cheeks, but the latter seemed reluctant to release her.
"Don't be like that! You can't just use me and then toss me aside—we're supposed to be partners, right?"
"Please refrain from saying things that make me sound like a heartless deserter," Nahida said, skillfully extracting herself and leaving March to pout.
The elf archer, noticing their antics, placed herself between them with hands on her hips, raising her chin confidently.
"Her Highness is absolutely right!"
"Wha—!"
March 7th's jealous expression was short-lived. By then, Dan Heng and Stelle had already disembarked, finishing off the last goblin remnants. The battlefield was littered with bodies: some frozen solid, others smashed to pieces, and a few skewered with arrows.
The unlucky goblins who had fallen into the river were crushed beneath Mokra Mbembe's massive feet, becoming part of the riverbed.
As the battle wound down, Dan Heng flicked the foul blood from his spear, wiping it clean with a scrap of wolf-hide.
"These must have been scouts sent to monitor the lower river," he observed.
"I think so too," Stelle replied, retrieving her weapon from the crushed skull of a goblin. She surveyed the carnage impassively, her heart no longer stirred by pity as it might have been when she first arrived on this planet.
"For an ambush, there should have been larger goblins here."
Her tone was steady, even as she stepped over the grotesque remains of her enemies.
"Indeed. Without any substantial backup, they left themselves vulnerable, allowing us to wipe them out in one fell swoop," Dan Heng added.
He glanced back at March 7th, who waved energetically from atop Mokra Mbembe's back.
"This overconfidence in their beastly weapon could be a weakness. We might be able to exploit it to strike at their heart."
"...Before the fog clears," Stelle agreed, bending down to retrieve a goblin's short spear. With a swift motion, she hurled it into the mist, eliciting a pained howl and the sound of a wolf stumbling.
Before Stelle could even react, a sprouting arrow zipped past her, finishing off the injured goblin with lethal precision.
The team climbed back onto Mokra Mbembe's back, continuing along the path sensed by the wind sprites.
As they progressed, a peculiar aroma began to fill the air.
"Are flowers blooming?" March 7th mused, squinting into the fog.
After eliminating the goblin scouts, the journey had been uneventful. Only the sounds of flowing water, the occasional clinking of equipment, and Mokra Mbembe's heavy breaths accompanied them.
But as they neared the upstream source, the forest grew eerily silent.
The creatures that should have thrived here were conspicuously absent.
The sun climbed higher, thinning the fog, but the dense forest canopy cast long, dark shadows. The sunlight never fully penetrated the undergrowth, leaving the area shrouded in a foreboding gloom, like the oppressive stillness before entering a cavern.
It was in this unsettling atmosphere that the sweet scent intensified, prompting March 7th to tighten her grip on her lightweight bow and scan their surroundings.
The elf archer, however, dashed her hopes.
"I don't know... but I've never smelled flowers like this before."
"...I think we're nearing the goblins' territory," Dan Heng said, his expression darkening.
This scent was no benign sign of blooming flowers. It was akin to the pungent smoke that travelers used to ward off snakes and insects—or in this case, goblins marking their territory.
And for intelligent creatures, what better deterrent than the smell of death?
"Are we sticking to the same plan? Catch them off guard?" March 7th asked, her gaze shifting to Nahida, who sat snuggled in the archer's arms like a porcelain doll.
Despite earlier friction, a lingering memory of her dream made March 7th's irritation dissipate.
How could anyone stay mad at someone so small and sweet-looking?
She shook her head, chastising herself for the thought. She's a child, she rationalized. Of course I can't be angry at her.
March 7th could only lie to herself.
---
The mist had thinned considerably, leaving the group more exposed.
"We should be careful now, but... can I have a turn this time?" Stelle said, blinking as if she were stating a simple fact.
"I'd like to experience the thrill of coordinating with someone too. And no, I'm not criticizing Dan Heng—"
Though her comment seemed unnecessary, it was clear that the Trailblazers had grown increasingly reliant on Nahida's support.
Before Stelle could argue further, the elf archer, still relishing the bond forged during their earlier skirmish, interjected.
"Absolutely not! Didn't we agree earlier that Her Highness would stay in the rear? Obviously, she should stick with me!"
"Are you all perhaps relying on me a bit too much?" Nahida asked, half-joking but also a little concerned.
It was heartening to be treated like a "treasured resource," but the thought of everyone becoming helpless without her worried her. If that happened, wouldn't Himeko and Mr. Yang scold her for "spoiling the team" and force her to stay on the train?
"Not at all! I just thought I'd check… Uh—wait, there's something ahead!" March 7th blurted out, clumsily changing the subject as she rubbed her eyes and craned her neck to peer past Mokra Mbembe's swaying back.
"That's dangerous, you know?" Stelle grabbed March's belt, holding her steady.
"Hehe, but I've got you guys, don't I? And besides, it's coming closer—"
As March squinted at the slender shadow in the distance, Dan Heng stood and followed her gaze.
It was not a tree. Its sharp, unnatural contours ruled that out.
When they finally discerned the strange object protruding from the riverbank, even Dan Heng's expression darkened.
It was akin to a natural dining table for birds—
"That's... ugh!"
March 7th gagged as soon as she realized what she was looking at. Her stomach churned violently, and her eyes watered from the intensity of the sight.
It was a corpse.
Impaled on a sharpened wooden stake, the body had been pierced from below, barely retaining its human shape.
Time had not been kind to the remains. Exposed to the warm, humid air, the flesh had rotted away, seeping fluids as swarms of maggots hollowed out the corpse from within.
Flies buzzed incessantly, landing on the rusted armor that suggested the victim had been a man. But the decomposition was so advanced that even his race was impossible to discern.
"Urgh—!"
The elf archer clutched her mouth, nearly vomiting at the sight. But with the small girl still in her arms, she forced herself to swallow the rising bile.
Stelle's expression grew grim, and Nahida quietly performed a gesture of prayer for the departed soul.
The goblins' intent in displaying such grisly scenes was all too clear: malice.
The impaled bodies were a territorial declaration, a mockery of invaders, meant to inspire terror, disgust, and fury in those who stumbled upon them.
If it weren't for that purpose, they would have used the corpses in a more practical way—perhaps as shields strapped to larger goblins.
"...It's unclear whether they were alive when tortured like this or if the corpses were placed here afterward," Dan Heng muttered, though he refrained from voicing the thought aloud.
He scanned both sides of the riverbank, and his expression darkened further.
The impaled corpse wasn't the only one.
Both sides of the river were lined with similar "totems," grotesque and macabre, like a morbid avenue of trees.
Some bodies were reduced to mere skeletons, while others still had flesh clinging to their bones. Many bore fresh, bloodied wounds that spoke of brutal torture.
Some were so bloated from trapped gases that their original appearance was impossible to discern.
Among the grisly decorations were what appeared to be merchants, adventurers, and travelers—victims of ambushes that had left them as nothing more than grotesque warnings.
"Ugh..."
March 7th turned pale as her bow slipped from her trembling hands. She clung to the edge of Mokra Mbembe's backboard, struggling to suppress the nausea welling inside her.
Even as she fought her instincts, the cloying sweetness of decomposition thickened in the air, merging with the sickly stench of death. It was too much.
Her body betrayed her, and she doubled over, retching uncontrollably.
Though March had braced herself for gruesome sights, even imagining the worst-case scenarios, the reality exceeded anything she could have prepared for.
"Here, take this and sip slowly."
Nahida, having finished her prayers, conjured a barrier of wind to block the stench. She handed March a pouch of honey nectar, harvested from harmless giant insects that the Forestfolk relied on for sweetener.
As Stelle gently rubbed March's back to help her recover, the elf archer accepted a mint-like lozenge from Dan Heng.
Hiding her own distress, she spoke in a deliberately harsh tone.
"These goblins… I'll make sure not a single one of them is left in my homeland!"
"You will," Nahida said resolutely.
Gone was her earlier softness as she climbed to Mokra Mbembe's head. Her gaze locked onto the horizon, where the towering shapes ahead became more defined.
Past the gruesome rows of impaled bodies loomed a dark silhouette, imposing and unnatural.
As Nahida raised her hand, a powerful gust of wind swept through the area, dispersing the lingering mist and revealing the shadow's true form.
A temple—no, a fortress—built from alabaster stone.
Its once-majestic carvings were weathered with age, patches of moss and ivy climbing its surface, painting it in hues of green.
This structure, an ancient relic of a bygone era, stood incongruously atop the river, now overtaken by the goblins.
"This is their lair?" Stelle muttered, furrowing her brow.
It was hard to believe that the goblins could have built something so intricate. It seemed far more likely that they had claimed it as squatters, defiling its original purpose.
Dan Heng quickly assessed the situation.
"We'll need to leave Mokra Mbembe here," he said.
Though the beast's size was immense, it wasn't enough to collapse the fortress outright. Worse, causing a commotion upstream could breach the dam-like structure, unleashing a flood that would devastate the downstream settlements.
"Understood. Stop here," Nahida said, conveying her intent to Mokra Mbembe, which halted its massive steps with a low rumble.
By then, March had finally recovered enough to stand, though shakily.
"How are you feeling? Can you continue?" Dan Heng asked bluntly.
"...Barely," March replied, using her bow for support as she steadied herself.
The elf archer had already composed herself, standing firm as she surveyed the temple ruins.
"You could wait here," Dan Heng suggested, his tone neutral. "Like last time."
"Heh... you're really underestimating me, aren't you?" March forced a weak smile, though her voice carried a hint of defiance.
"No one who's seen this could turn back now." Her eyes shone with a deep sadness.
"And I already ran away once before. If I run again, I'll hate myself forever."
Gripping her bow tightly, she straightened her posture and forced a determined grin.
"I didn't come all this way for nothing."
The elf archer shared her sentiment. With a fierce smile, she stared at the ancient structure.
"Looks like we're on the same page. Let's tear this place apart and pay those monsters back!"
Before the fog could fully dissipate, the team descended from Mokra Mbembe's back, ready to turn the goblins' den upside down.
---
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