Chapter 9
The dress my mother wore—and even my undergarments—had all been crafted by my father.
In Hebron, where manufactured goods were particularly expensive, his tailoring skills were invaluable.
No one in the domain dared mock the lord for engaging in a lowly trade or question the gender roles traditionally associated with it. After all, it was the lord himself who made and sold clothing.
—Someday, when the eastern forest opens, Father might be able to sell his clothes in other territories too.
I supported him wholeheartedly.
I wanted him to succeed—not just quietly, but proudly and openly.
I hoped he would prove that you didn’t need to be a great knight or a powerful mage to become someone extraordinary.
Or at the very least, I wanted him to show me what a happy life looked like.
“Be careful out there.”
“Yes, Father.”
—Ugh, my back’s aching today. Maybe it’s time I handed down the estate.
He used to say that every time I addressed him as ‘Baron.’ Eventually, I gave up and started calling him ‘Father’ instead.
My mother’s gaze pierced into me.
Even though I had become distant and cold, she embraced me with all the warmth she could muster.
But still, I couldn’t bring myself to change my demeanor.
Because of the woman who had been my mother in my previous life—the Duchess of Breio.
—My son is a genius. Of course he is; he has my blood. Before I gave birth to him, I dreamt of a dragon. It carried me in its mouth and flew through the skies.
That was the last thing I remembered her saying—back when I was about seven.
As time went on, however, her confidence gave way to anxiety. She eventually hired harsh private tutors to push me harder.
I was beaten like a mule, forced to learn swordsmanship and magic.
But no matter how much pain or despair I endured, my body never changed.
Nothing could coax talent to grow in my barren potential.
‘I resent you. One day, I’ll tell you those words to your face. And if it turns out you ordered my death…’
In Hebron, authority essentially rested in my hands.
Over the past month, I had earned the trust of both the soldiers and the townsfolk.
Even my father looked visibly relieved, now that I had taken some of the burdens off his shoulders.
I stood before the assembled soldiers.
“Today, we march to eliminate the goblins that infest the eastern forest. They’re weak, insignificant monsters. Don’t you dare lose to something as pathetic as a goblin. They are nothing more than the first step on the path we must walk. Survive to the end—and witness Hebron’s final glory. On that day, Hebron’s honor will be yours as well.”
“WAAAAAAH! HEBRON! HEBRON! HEBRON!”
We left ten soldiers and thirty reservists behind to defend Hebron.
Then, with thirty-four soldiers and Sir Brown by my side, I led the march into the eastern forest.
Our numbers were far too small to fully reclaim goblin territory—so densely packed that even a headcount was impossible.
But I didn’t hesitate.
Delaying would only give them more time to breed.
‘If we leave them alone, Hebron will end up annexed by the Nurha Barony.’
Beyond the forest, the Nurha Barony had built fences and walls, layer upon layer, to block the goblins from advancing.
They had no intention of helping us.
In fact, they were waiting for Hebron to fall.
Once the goblins invaded our lands, they would come charging in with their army, pretending to liberate Hebron, while aiming to claim it for themselves.
They wouldn’t even need to worry about the royal family or other nobles questioning them, since they could use protection as an excuse.
‘That will never happen. If we lose to goblins, we can forget about ever surpassing Breio.’
Back when I lived in House Breio, I experimented on all kinds of monsters.
I was curious whether they had some unique abilities that humans didn’t possess. House Breio even employed mages who specialized in such experiments, so research was never a problem.
‘Goblins. Height: between 1 to 1.2 meters. Main weapon: Daggers. Some shoot poisoned needles from blowpipes, but their effective range is under 10 meters. If hit, the area becomes stiff and sluggish, but aura-trained knights are immune. Intelligence is about the level of a child, though rare individuals with keen minds or even shamans have been known to emerge.’
That was all I knew about them.
But it was enough.
The soldiers of Hebron had plenty of experience with goblins, having fought them regularly during tax convoys.
When we reached the outskirts of the forest, Sir Brown shouted.
“Put on your wolf hides!”
The soldiers quickly donned their upper armor—jackets stitched together from the pelts of ash-gray wolves.
The wolf-hide tunics had hoods shaped like wolf heads. When the soldiers pulled them over, only their faces were barely visible.
Each soldier was also equipped with leather gloves and boots, and additional leather padding was sewn into their joints.
It was a countermeasure against the goblins’ paralyzing needles.
The soldiers carried spears and round shields.
On their backs, they wore quivers filled with short throwing spears.
Their demeanor was completely different from just a month ago.
It was the result of nearly a full month of live combat training against wild beasts.
‘I was right to push them hard. The tougher the training, the better their chances of survival. Once this campaign is over, no one will be complaining.’
Even after their hunts, I made them continue spear training.
Three days ago, I even taught them the Hebron Aura Cultivation Method—a technique I had personally refined to be easier to learn, even for those with little innate talent.
Sir Brown shouted.
“Shields up! Raise your spears!”
The soldiers slung their round shields onto their arms and swapped out their long spears for short throwing spears.
It was the throwing stance from Monolith Spearmanship.
Excitement buzzed through the ranks.
They were desperate to catch my attention.
They wanted more than just the aura technique or spear forms—they craved something greater.
These men no longer saw themselves ending their lives as mere soldiers.
And yet, not one of them tried to stand out alone.
They marched in step, watching each other closely, exchanging silent glances.
I could feel the camaraderie between them.
‘Just like the books said.’
I’d read plenty of war novels claiming that intense training forged unbreakable bonds between soldiers.
Over the past month, I had also been diligently practicing with a sling.
Archery was more precise and deadly, yes—but since I wasn’t planning to focus on ranged combat, the sling was more than enough.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh! Thwip! THWIP!
With my custom-made sling, I flung a smooth stone that shot cleanly through the trees.
It struck a goblin scout square in the head, knocking it from its perch with a loud thud!
Just then, a horn sounded from within the forest.
WHOOOOOOOO!
The underbrush rustled violently.
It was the echo of dozens of goblins moving in unison.
But rather than rush us recklessly, they simply made a lot of noise.
Goblins weren’t beasts.
They weren’t stupid.
They had noticed our approach and were gathering their forces to prepare for an ambush.
I drew my sword and shouted.
“HEBRON!”
“GRIT! AND! GUTS!”
With that, we charged boldly into the forest.
The wild animals had long since fled before our presence.
No—over the past month, we had hunted them to near extinction in this area.
“Shields up!”
The soldiers raised their shields to cover their faces.
From the bushes, rocks and poisoned needles came flying.
But it was useless.
With their strength alone, the goblins couldn’t penetrate the leather armor.
And the soldiers—fired up with adrenaline—barely felt a thing.
“Advance!”
The formation split into two lines.
I led the vanguard, while Brown commanded the rearguard.
The vanguard would see most of the initial fighting.
As we advanced in tight formation, the pressure we exuded became too much for the goblins to bear, and their warriors began to break from cover.
But they were no match for our trained soldiers.
Though the goblins showed some organization, it was still only marginally better than wild beasts or other monsters.
Three goblins came charging in, clutching blowpipes between their teeth, firing paralyzing darts as they ran.
Others leapt down from trees, spears flashing in their hands.
“Spears!”
The front line hurled their spears.
The oncoming goblins, charging boldly, were skewered mid-rush.
The ones who survived were mine.
I weaved through them, cutting down goblin after goblin with my blade.
From the rear, Sir Brown observed the situation and shouted.
“Survival Monsters! Formation!”
Whirr-whirr! Whip! THWIP!
The drawback of a sling was, it took time to reload.
You had to swing it at least two or three times, and even a single rotation required finesse to fire off a round smoothly.
Especially in a forest filled with obstacles, accuracy dropped significantly.
Whirr-whirr! Whip! THWIP!
Two more goblins dropped from the trees.
One died instantly, its neck snapping on impact.
The other, though still alive, had its skull cracked and limped away with a shattered leg.
“Fifty meters ahead—minimum ten hostiles! Second line requesting to engage!”
I raised my hand.
It was an order to Brown to hold the position.
“Don’t get worked up over a dozen goblins. We’ve got a long way to go.”
The eastern forest was swarming with them.
Unless they rushed us in force, it was best for the first and second ranks to alternate in combat.
We needed to pace ourselves.
At some point, the goblins abandoned their blowpipes entirely.
Now they charged in with nothing but crude blades.
Some even wielded stone axes—rocks tied to sticks with leather strips.
It showed how poorly equipped they were.
“Hold formation. Don’t lose your heads. We fight until sundown.”
The soldiers exchanged glances, silently reinforcing their cohesion.
That was the power of formation.
A high-ranking knight could break through a wall like this—but unless you were one of those elite, the best counter was unity.
KEEEEEEK!
The goblins’ screeches echoed from all directions.
Sir Brown, still watching from the rear, raised his sword and shouted.
“At least thirty incoming! Second line joining the front!”
I gave a nod, signaling my approval.
The gap between the front and rear lines closed.
The leading soldiers raised their shields high.
The brush on all sides trembled violently.
One by one, goblins burst out of the foliage, screaming like rowdy children, blades raised high.
“Second line—Spears!”
“Spears!”
The soldiers in the rear hurled their spears.
Eighteen spears shot forward in a tight volley.
Some struck true, skewering goblins; others buried themselves in dirt or tree trunks.
“Switch formation! First line defend!”
“Switch formation! First line defend!”
The soldiers echoed the command to ensure it was heard clearly.
They moved like a machine—no wasted motion, no hesitation.
“Second line, ready... throw!”
I joined the rear line, hurling my spear alongside the others.
It had barely been ten seconds since the last volley.
“Second line—hold position... thrust!”
The second line drew their long spears and took formation.
They assumed the stance they had practiced countless times.
It was a horizontal thrust, the primary technique of the Monolith Spearmanship.
Shushushushush!
From between the shields of the front line, long spears shot forward like hidden blades.
The spears pierced through the goblins who had been wildly hacking at the shields with their crude daggers. In an instant, their numbers were cut in half.
“Advance!”
The soldiers broke formation.
All at once, they surged forward, skewering goblins with their spears.
I joined the fray, cutting down goblins in their midst.
“Wooooaaahhh!”
Cheers erupted from the ranks.
They were electrified—none of them had ever experienced such a clean, exhilarating victory before.
“Second line, rest! First line, stay on alert!”
We were still at the edge of the eastern forest.
It was a place we could retreat from at any moment.
Perhaps that was why the goblins weren’t pressing forward.
‘Then we’ll just go to them ourselves.’
“Soldiers.”
At my command, three soldiers trained in reconnaissance immediately sprang up and disappeared into the trees.
They moved in a team of three—a safety measure in case of an ambush.
Meanwhile, the remaining soldiers retrieved spears that were still intact and collected the goblins’ discarded daggers.
While they worked, I sat down on the forest floor and began circulating my aura.
