章節 112: Chapter 112: Jessiava
"Goblin!" The knight exclaimed in surprise as he spotted the green-skinned dwarf-like creature surrounded by curious onlookers on the ground.
The well-informed Zaltarion knight quickly identified its species.
"How could there be a goblin here?" The leading knight puzzledly scratched his helmet.
"Keep an eye on him! I'll report this to the King!" Unable to make a decision, the knight turned around and hurried to find Rynar.
"What's going on?" Rynar asked as he noticed only one knight returning. Clearly, something unusual had happened.
"Your Majesty, our people discovered a... goblin in the fields." The knight's expression was strange as he relayed the news.
"What? A goblin? Are you joking? A goblin here? Aren't they supposed to be struggling to survive in the far northern wastelands?" Rynar's disbelief was evident.
"No idea! But how could a goblin show up here, of all places?" Reynard's expression darkened.
"Humans, elves, dwarves, orcs, goblins, centaurs—they're all converging in the Rhovanion region.
At this rate, we could almost host a few tables of mahjong here! After two Wars of the Lonely Mountain, this already chaotic region has become even messier."
"Sigh! Bring the goblin here for questioning," Rynar sighed, exasperated. "The War of the Ring hasn't even started yet, and all sorts of monsters and misfits are already popping up!"
"It's definitely a goblin… what a peculiar appearance," Rynar muttered, trying not to grimace as he observed the goblin before him.
Its short stature, pale green skin, stubby limbs, and disproportionately large head with bright, sharp eyes and a long, pointy nose gave Rynar a wave of discomfort.
The sparse hair on its head only added to its aged, pitiful look. Most ridiculous of all was the goblin's ill-fitted clothing, making it appear as though it had been stuffed into a burlap sack.
"Greetings, my lord!" To everyone's astonishment, the goblin knelt on one knee and performed a graceful noble's bow.
"Am I seeing things?" Caslow asked in disbelief.
"Maybe we're all going blind from staring at too many people lately," Reynard quipped, his expression as stiff as if he had been struck by lightning upon witnessing the scene.
"Since when are goblins this polite..." Reynard muttered, his mouth twitching.
Rynar, however, maintained a composed expression, though internally, waves of shock were surging through him.
He recalled a quest from a game he had played, one that delved into the bygone glory of goblin civilization.
That quest allowed him a glimpse into the goblins' once-glorious alchemical advancements and magical artifacts.
Goblin sorcerers and alchemists had wielded formidable magic and weapons to defend their homeland and wage wars.
Then, one fateful day, their grand empire collapsed overnight, forcing the goblins to flee north to the wastelands.
Those who didn't make it sought refuge among other races, but without their wealth, goblins were rejected everywhere.
Unlike dwarves, goblins lacked the physical strength to take on labor jobs.
Left with no choice, they turned to thievery and robbery to survive, turning their once-proud race into outcasts despised by all.
Rynar suppressed his astonishment and calmed himself before speaking slowly.
"Goblin, what brings you to my territory?" Rynar dared not underestimate the goblin, knowing their heritage wasn't as insignificant as others thought.
After all, goblins were the original creators of magical scrolls—the kind anyone could tear open and use. These cunning, green-skinned beings were once masters of alchemy and magic.
"My apologies, my lord. I've wandered into your lands unintentionally. I pledge to follow your laws.
If I am unwelcome, please allow me to leave safely," the goblin said with a calm yet humble demeanor, despite its comical appearance.
"No harm done. I'd like to know your name, where you're from, and what you seek," Rynar asked, his curiosity piqued.
"Hey! Speak up! Do you know who stands before you?" Caslow stepped forward, resting his hand on his sword.
"You're in the presence of the King of Zaltarion Empire, the Great Paladin, and a Noble Devotee of the Dragon God!"
"My name is Jessiava. I'm a wanderer from Frowidge. As for my purpose… well, I'm simply traveling south in search of food," Jessiava replied casually, glancing at Caslow's sword-wielding hand.
"Looking for food? More like a cover for stealing, I'd wager!" Caslow shot him a glare.
To everyone's surprise, Jessiava didn't flinch or act defensive. Instead, he sighed deeply, bowing his head.
"This goblin's no ordinary drifter," Reynard whispered to Rynar as he passed by, his voice carried discreetly through a war aura.
"I noticed," Rynar replied, narrowing his eyes. This goblin was far too composed.
Unlike the usual goblins who either lied or fled in embarrassment when accused of theft, Jessiava exuded an air of solemn melancholy. His demeanor hinted at a hidden past, one far from ordinary.
"Why don't you seem upset when accused of stealing?" Rynar asked, casually waving his riding crop.
"Goblin cunning and thievery have been the subject of stories for thousands of years. Why should I be offended by such long-held stereotypes?" Jessiava retorted with a bitter smile.
"Such ignorance… If only people remembered the splendor of the goblin empire," Rynar remarked with a faint smile.
He had experienced firsthand the power of goblins in a game mission: magical scrolls hurled like they cost nothing, battles starting with catastrophic forbidden spells—all thanks to these small, unassuming green-skinned beings.
Jessiava froze, his eyes wide with disbelief. How could Rynar possibly know about the ancient goblin empire?
Apart from his clan's ancestral teachings, the world had long forgotten those tales. Could there be another source of such knowledge? His mind raced with questions.
"How… how do you know about that?" Jessiava stammered, visibly shaken.
"Heh, that's a secret. Now, tell me your true purpose here, and then we'll talk more," Rynar said with a sly grin.
"Hmph! Treacherous humans! Don't think for a second you'll ever win back the goblins' trust!" Jessiava snapped angrily, catching everyone off guard.
Rynar fell silent, lost in thought.
"It seems the legends in the game were true after all..." Rynar murmured to himself, recalling a fragment of history he'd encountered. He let out a quiet sigh, pondering the fate of the goblins.
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