14

The next morning—though there was still some time before dawn.

It was good that I’d been able to sleep for several nights in a row now, but I’d probably only slept about four hours.

The fact that I woke naturally might mean this body doesn’t require much sleep.

It was still too early for breakfast, so I just drank some water and set off toward today’s destination—Rukudil.

Of course, since I’d eaten the last of the fish last night, I’d have to hunt something along the way. Being this big has its drawbacks.

(I also need to practice butchering with a blade.)

I nodded to myself, thinking, “Living sure is tough,” like it was someone else’s problem.

If only I could just tear into raw meat like a beast, my nutritional issues would be mostly solved—but I really didn’t think I could do it.

That lingering sense of still being human probably won’t let me abandon that boundary.

Not that I was making a noble stand—it was simply that as someone who had lived all my life as a civilized human, I didn’t have that kind of resolve.

Even with the sky still dark, my pace didn’t slow.

Aiming roughly north-northwest, I figured I’d reach the ruins of Rukudil by midday, given the distance and my speed.

My backpack and cooler box didn’t hinder movement much, which was nice.

The rolled-up tarp on my back occasionally brushed against tree branches, though—maybe I should adjust how I carry it or trim its size.

Along the way, I found an overgrown railway track and decided to follow it.

If my heading was right, Rukudil should have a station, and the open path would let me move faster.

In the end, I spotted the town before noon, earlier than expected.

(I see wall remnants—this has to be Rukudil.)

Before entering, I stashed my gear in a tree, hung my sledgehammer from it as a marker, and got ready.

I drank some water, then crossed the crumbling wall slowly, focusing on smells and sounds.

Sure enough—that smell hit me.

(Of course they’re here.)

Letting out a “Gah-haah,” I activated my camouflage and moved stealthily.

This was an experiment to see whether goblins could detect me in this state… but I couldn’t find any.

Tilting my head, I continued toward the town center, when my ears caught faint sounds.

A voice—definitely human.

Unfortunately male, but it sounded like just one man shouting loudly.

Heading toward the sound, I saw goblins running my way.

(Lots of injuries… did they flee? That means a battle’s going on.)

If goblins were running away, there was no leader-class individual present.

Whether it was just goblins or some other race ruling over them, this was a perfect chance to watch the Kingdom of Canaan fight.

I hurried toward the likely battlefield, careful not to make noise.

The goblin that fled past me got a rock to the gut courtesy of my throw—probably won’t last much longer.

Now the voices of both humans and goblins were clear.

I took position atop a sturdy, still-intact building to watch.

(Oh, perfect.)

From here, I had a clear view of an open plaza, where about 50 armed humans were surrounded by a swarm of goblins.

The goblins numbered under 300, maybe, but about 30% of them had metal weapons.

At this scale, they were probably also using poison, so even well-armed humans would have to be careful.

Evidence: no human corpses, only goblin bodies on the ground.

With disciplined, cautious movement, goblins didn’t stand a chance.

A large man wielding a greatsword shouted orders, and the unit moved in unison, cutting down more goblins.

Against a coordinated force acting as one, sheer numbers weren’t enough for goblins.

(So that man’s the commander… and the voice I heard earlier was his.)

It was clear this fight was decided—more like a cleanup now.

And so, your commentator today: an unnamed monster.

From their gear, they didn’t look like regular troops, so likely 50 mercenaries versus 300 poorly equipped goblins.

Being surrounded is a bad situation, but these mercenaries stood in a square formation to handle attacks from all sides.

With inferior weapons, skill, and strength, the goblins had no options.

One by one, those who charged were cut down, the goblin ranks steadily thinning.

Oh—here we have a goblin pulling out a rock to throw.

Others saw this and backed up to grab rocks as well.

Ah, and in the chaos, some goblins are using the chance to flee.

The thrown stones were blocked by shields; judging from the arrows on the ground, they’d already exhausted their shots. Escape seemed their only option.

Back to the battlefield… looked like the goblin line began collapsing once some fled.

The humans attacked the breach on their commander’s order.

It was brutal—goblins cut down without a chance to resist.

All over, slaughter unfolded; those too slow to run were skewered, while crossbow bolts pierced the backs of fleeing goblins.

With the fight clearly shifted to mopping up, the battle was over.

A decisive human victory.

Without a leader or allied races, goblins at this level wouldn’t stand a chance.

From their mismatched gear, these were clearly mercenaries—not soldiers or knights, whose equipment would be uniform.

But they all had one thing in common: a strip of red cloth tied to their right arms.

So the Canaan mercenary tradition I knew was still alive.

If they were allowed a “symbol,” they were definitely an elite mercenary band.

“Kazetta! ———. —Find it!”

From the scraps of Canaan Kingdom language I caught, their goal seemed to be exterminating goblins here.

The man called—likely a stereotypical-looking mage—stepped forward, closed his eyes, and began chanting softly.

I crouched lower, moving to a spot where I couldn’t be seen from their side, and peered through a gap in the rubble.

In less than thirty seconds, the mercenaries’ pursuit continued, and the mage’s spell spread over a wide area.

I had to admit—it was careless of me to be within it.

Because the mage pointed his staff my way and shouted loudly.

(Ah, a detection-type spell, like sonar or thermal imaging?)

I really didn’t get magic.

The mercenaries seemed to split forces—some to keep killing goblins, the rest to hunt me.

I was still camouflaged, so they shouldn’t be able to see me, but when I shifted slightly, the mage moved his staff to follow—either I’d been marked, or the spell was still active.

I’d already confirmed their equipment; I didn’t need more.

If I ran at full speed, no human could catch me—but I decided to watch a bit longer.

In theory, I could fight them and then loot the town, but the fact that humans were already here probably meant nothing worth taking was left.

So—scrap that plan.

I didn’t think they’d be able to kill me, but battle outcomes are unpredictable, especially with magic involved.

From watching them fight goblins, I felt no real threat.

Still, the uncertainty about magic kept me from committing.

As I was weighing my options, the mage began chanting again.

This time it was short—a burst of fire swept across my location and its surroundings.

Clearly not meant to kill, but to flush me out.

I stood, swatting the flames aside with a fist, dropping my camouflage and revealing myself.

The mercenaries gasped at the sight.

The commander silenced them with a bark, then pointed his greatsword at me, gesturing in an inviting motion.

(When you’re invited that openly, it’s rude to refuse…)

Some mercenaries choose this life just to fight.

This commander was likely a battle junkie.

Breathing out a “Gah-haah” like a sigh, I leapt forward and landed before the mercenaries.

I slowly scanned them.

(Total… 38. Three women. One’s probably a cleric…)

The other two wore ridiculously revealing outfits—jackets with hot pants and a strip of cloth wrapped tube-top style, tied in front.

They didn’t look well-protected—were they really okay?

The men? Who cares?

Their gear was all similar anyway, though a few had strong odors that caught my attention.

Well, if I treated this as gaining combat experience, I could afford to play around a little.

I walked straight into the plaza center, completely unconcerned.

(See? The opposite of before.)

I deliberately stood in the middle, letting them surround me.

Now—let’s see what mercenaries of this era could do.