Chapter 211: A ’Whoosh

Goblinoids had a truly terrible reputation, to say the least. Even Ron, who had spent a good deal of time with Delaford, instinctively assumed the fault lay with the goblins—or maybe even with Delaford himself.

But when he followed Rurik’s directions and arrived on the scene, Ron was dumbfounded. The Goblin Hunter was standing atop a wine barrel, letting Civilian Militia Captain Andre have it with a furious tirade. In contrast, the young man on the receiving end didn’t dare even breathe heavily, just stood at attention and took the verbal lashing.

Behind the barrel at Delaford’s feet sat two young goblins, their faces bruised and swollen. They were glaring furiously at a sturdy, middle-aged man standing behind Andre. The man didn’t seem to have sobered up yet; he was still visibly drunk, and as Ron drew closer, he was hit by the overwhelming stench of alcohol.

"What’s going on here?"

"Ron, you’re just in time!" Delaford glanced over, and the sight of Ron immediately emboldened him. The Hunter leaped down from the barrel, pulling the two goblin kids in front of Ron. "You see this? Look at what this drunkard did to them!"

"And Andre here was about to arrest them! You tell me, where’s the justice in that?!"

"That... I was mistaken," Andre said, quickly lowering his head as Ron looked his way. The decorative sword he’d bought in Rose City still hung at his waist. "My lord, this is my fault. I jumped to conclusions and made the wrong judgment."

"So you were just going to haul them off?! They’ve been beaten black and blue!" Delaford shouted. "Andre, what were you thinking?!"

"Because Thomson claimed these two kids broke into his house and stole his things..." Andre mumbled sheepishly, avoiding Delaford’s gaze and explaining the situation to Ron.

"Even if they really were stealing, this beating they took should be lesson enough." The corner of Ron’s mouth twitched. While the goblins’ skin color made it hard for him to gauge the full extent of the two kids’ injuries, it was clear from a single glance that the beating had been severe.

"You’re telling me. This guy hung these two little ones up and whipped them for half the night!" Delaford snorted. "At first, I thought the same thing, so I just told Andre to let them go—that there was no need to lock them in a dark cell."

"But guess what? When I questioned them further, I found out they hadn’t stolen a single thing from him. They hadn’t even set foot inside his house!"

Ron’s gaze hardened. "Are you saying this man just targeted them because they’re goblins? For what reason—prejudice? Hatred?"

Goblins never had a good reputation.

"It was... neither," Andre said, looking so embarrassed he wished the ground would swallow him whole. "Thomson was just... completely drunk."

"He’s a carriage driver from a nearby village. The construction and transportation work has been heavy lately, and he’s had a drinking problem for many years. Last night, he drank too much again. On his way home, he couldn’t get his bearings, mistook a granary for his house, and when he went inside, he happened to see the two of them—"

"And he beat them just for that?" Ron slapped his forehead, utterly speechless. "And you listened to a drunkard and were going to punish these two?"

"That’s right," Andre said, his face flushing red. "Rest assured, my lord. I understand the whole story now. Even if you hadn’t come, I was preparing to punish Thomson after Delaford was done—ten lashes, plus a fine of half a month’s wages to pay for the children’s treatment and make sure they don’t have any scars."

"Furthermore, I’ve decided to subject myself to the same punishment. I failed to do my duty in this matter and nearly made things worse. I am solely responsible for this."

"Good, as long as you understand." Ron knew they had established their own set of laws by following old traditions and the statutes of the Southern City-States, and he had no intention of changing them. He was the Lord, after all; those rules didn’t apply to him, and as long as the residents had no objections, it was fine.

"But I have another question," Ron said, looking at the two goblin kids. "Do you live in the granary? Why would that drunkard find you there?"

"A-Are you Lord Ron?" one of the kids asked, tilting his head back to stare at Ron with wide eyes. "No, we don’t live in the granary, though our mom was on duty here last week."

"But we did think about sneaking in!" the other kid blurted out. Goblins this age, it seemed, hadn’t yet learned how to lie, so the whole story came tumbling out. "But Mom said this place is really important! If we went inside to play, Lord Klade would get mad, and Lord Ron would get mad too!"

"But you couldn’t resist, could you?" A small smile played on Ron’s lips.

"No, that’s not it!" the kids said, frantically waving their hands. "We weren’t anywhere near here last night! We were playing around that camp outside the village!"

"There’s one of our Scouts and two militiamen guarding it, so it’s really safe!"

Watching them gesture animatedly, Ron finally realized what they were talking about: the suspicious camp Seymour had reported earlier. Since there had been no trouble there for some time, the number of guards had been gradually reduced, leaving only a single goblin and two militiamen.

’But what does that have to do with the granary?’

"We don’t know either," the two kids said, looking at each other, their wide eyes filled with even greater confusion. "We were just playing over there, talking about what might be inside the granary, and then..."

"There was a ’WHOOSH’!"

"Right, a ’WHOOSH,’ and we suddenly appeared inside a pile of grain as tall as a hill!" The kids described what they had seen inside the granary. It wasn’t actually harvest season, so the grain stores, obtained mostly through trade, were not particularly abundant; the pile only seemed so large due to the small stature of the goblin children.

’Appeared suddenly?’ Ron thought for a moment. "Alright, Delaford, go get the others. As for you two, come with me for now. How about you tell all of us what happened again in a bit?"

"But before that, I’ll take you to get those injuries treated..."

Delaford seemed to have an inkling of what was happening, so he acted quickly. Ron had just brought a Potion and finished treating the two children when the others in their group arrived in the trading post’s main hall.

"...It sounds like some kind of Teleportation Spell." The two kids had just finished telling the group about the "WHOOSH." After hearing their story, Silvia propped her chin in her hand. "But regular Teleportation Spells are directional. You need to set up a Teleportation Gate or an Array on both ends. You can’t just go wherever you please."

"Besides, these two little ones are certainly not skilled Casters. How could they have triggered such a Teleportation Spell?"