Chapter 19: Goblin Rampage
When I went to pick up the horned dogs I’d downed with the shotgun spell, there were sixteen of them sprawled out across the field, counting both near and far.
Plenty must have gotten away too—if a pack that big had attacked a party like theirs, they’d have been wiped out.
I didn’t know how much one horned dog would sell for, but together they should fetch enough to buy some potions.
“Amazing… how’d you even do this?”
“Look at this one—its face is completely crushed.”
“And this one’s chest is caved in and it’s puked blood.”
“You’re Leon, right? I’m Clark—the one who keeps this group together.”
“I’ve barely been an adventurer for two years myself, so you don’t have to be so formal.”
“Then drop the polite talk too, Leon. In the middle of a fight, fancy speech just gets you killed. Still, even if you’re younger, it feels weird to talk casually to someone clearly stronger than us.”
Even if they said that, my Japanese upbringing made it hard to drop honorifics toward someone older.
My world had once been just my family and a few people around us, so the adventurer lifestyle still hadn’t quite settled in for me.
“That’s a lot of corpses…”
“How much do you think this’ll come to?”
“Horned dogs go for around 20,000 dara each, I think.”
“That’s enough for guild potions then. Thought we’d have to take a break until we healed.”
“I was worried we’d starve, but thanks to you, Leon, we’ll be eating tonight.”
Wow, what a timid bunch.
On the way back to town, I asked about their usual work. Turns out they mostly gather herbs and hunt small animals like horned rabbits. Goblins are considered high-value prey for them.
They’d thought they were facing a group of six goblins—but four more had jumped out from hiding, and that’s when the fight turned bad.
They all carried short spears, but from their form, it didn’t look like they practiced much.
Just holding a weapon doesn’t make you strong—but they didn’t seem to get that.
Since one of them was limping, we moved slowly, reaching Roxanne City just before the gates closed. We headed straight to the Adventurer’s Guild.
After getting permission from the burly old man at the buying counter, I led them toward the dismantling area—but since they hesitated, I practically dragged them along.
“Are we even allowed back here…?”
“You have to be, otherwise I can’t hand over the monsters for you.”
“Hey, the ‘Gentle Breeze’ brought some weirdos.”
“Oi, this isn’t a place for you nobodies.”
“Uh, the dismantling area is where you bring prey, you know? Try handing it in at the herb counter and then you’ll get yelled at.”
“Oh, so you’re feeling cocky now that they call you ‘Gentle Breeze,’ huh?”
“If you’re that hot, I can cool you off with some wind—outside the city, of course.”
“You little punk—”
“Hey, enough! If you’re going to pick a fight, be ready for the consequences! He’s collecting materials under a Marquis’s commission. Mess with him, and I’ll make sure your next payout gets the lowest price possible!”
The dismantling foreman roared at them, and their faces twisted like they’d just swallowed a handful of bitter bugs—trying to decide whether to chew through the taste or spit it out and pretend nothing happened.
“Leon, how many did you bring in?”
“Five Runner Birds and three Chikki chikki Birds for me. For them—sixteen horned dogs.”
“Then get them all lined up. We’re in a rush to fill quotas here. Put the dogs next to the birds.”
I lined up the horned dogs beside the birds. The foreman quickly filled out an appraisal slip, mumbling as he looked over the corpses.
He frowned and scratched his head at the damaged ones, then said, “Eh, close enough,” and wrote down the numbers.
I nudged Clark and told him to hand over his guild card. He fumbled for it, tried to give it to me, but I made him pass it to the foreman instead.
The old man laughed, took the card, wrote Clark’s name on the form, and handed it back.
“We’re under pressure to meet the quota, so bring in more soon.”
“I’ll head out again tomorrow and try our best.”
After thanking him, I led Clark’s group to the payment counter.
“So, Clark, how much did you get?”
“That appraisal was fast.”
“Yeah, I thought he’d at least squint and hum and act like he was doing math.”
“Each horned dog went for 21,000 dara—so, 336,000 total.”
“Whoa.”
“We’re celebrating tonight!”
“Leon, are you sure you don’t want a cut?”
“I’ve got my own earnings from the birds. Just go buy some potions and patch yourselves up.”
My own appraisal came out to:
- Runner Birds: 41,000 dara each
- Chikichiki Birds: 65,000 dara each
Totaling 400,000 dara.
Since the Marquis’s commission items got slightly higher rates, I took payment in gold and headed to an adventurer shop to buy new boots.
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When I returned to the guild wearing my new boots, there was some commotion at the front desk—but I decided not to poke the hornet’s nest and went straight to the dining hall.
With an ale and a bowl of stew in hand, I made for an open seat—only for a filthy foot to stick out in front of me.
I gracefully stepped right on it and kept walking, sitting down and taking a hearty gulp of ale.
“Hey, brat! You’ve got some nerve stepping on my foot and pretending nothing happened!”
So that’s directed at me, huh?
Actually… yeah, I might’ve stepped on something.
“Huh? Did I step on your foot?”
From around us came muffled laughs and whispers: “Did you hear that?” “Guy’s got guts.”
“Sorry, but I don’t recall stepping on anyone’s foot. The floor’s a bit uneven, though—maybe that bump was your foot? Oops, my bad!”
The room burst out laughing, and someone heckled,
“‘Goblin Rampage’ Gentle Breeze just made a fool of you!”
Looking closely, I realized—it was the same guy who’d mouthed off back in the dismantling area.
“‘Oops, my bad,’ huh?”
“You stomp on my foot, make a joke out of it, and now you’re laughing? You’ve got a death wish, kid!”
“Eh? But I walked straight between the tables. There shouldn’t have been any feet in the way. And yet you say I stepped on yours, so since I’m kind of timid, I just apologized anyway. By the way, ‘Goblin Rampage’ — that’s such a lovely party name.”
“You hear that? He said it’s a lovely name.”
“That’s what you get for giving your party some ridiculous name — now the kid’s mocking you.”
“Well, to be fair, they are skilled enough to rampage through goblins, so the name isn’t wrong.”
“You don’t actually respect their skills at all, do you?”
“Hey, if you’re going to talk like that, then accept a mock battle with us!”
“Eh? No thanks, I’m weak, that’s why I apologized in the first place.”
“We can’t accept that kind of apology.”
“If you’re going to apologize, do it properly.”
“You must’ve made 300 or 400 thousand just from those birds. If you’ve got that kind of skill, then as an apology, carry our gear for a while.”
“Carry your gear? I don’t mind, but you’ll die, you know.”
“What’s that supposed to mean, you trying to kill us with your ‘Gentle Breeze’ magic?”
“Now that’s a funny little punk.”
“Hey, Jorm, didn’t you see what happened earlier?”
“Huh? Oh, Wise, what are you talking about?”
“That guy over there — besides the birds, he also brought in sixteen horned dogs. The ones with him were low-rank herb-gatherers. If you take him as a baggage carrier, your party will be wiped out in two or three days. He even goes hunting with the Strongarm group — you’re the one who ought to be apologizing.”
〈Sixteen horned dogs, did you hear that?〉
〈No way… wasn’t he a solo adventurer?〉
〈I heard Strongarm Olga invited him into the forest.〉
〈And the dismantlers said he’s the one handling the Runner Bird and Chikki chikki Bird commissions.〉
〈I used to think ‘Gentle Breeze’ was a mocking nickname, but maybe not.〉
〈Yeah, remember that wandering fire mage? He said he’d give Leon a title and called him “Leon the Gentle Breeze.”〉
〈And Leon’s comeback was brutal.〉
〈Right, he exposed that so-called fire mage for being all talk and dubbed him “Marco the Bluff.” That was hilarious.〉
Good grief… looks like I’ve become famous already.
What’s the point of being famous in a random town I’m just passing through?
I drained my ale, stood up with the empty mug, and the man called Jorm and his friends flinched.
Pathetic — just hearing some gossip about me and they’re already scared.
I walked toward the counter for a refill — this time, no feet in the way.
With a fresh mug in hand, I headed back toward them. I decided to mess with them a little — nothing harmful, just a scare.
As I passed by, I quietly dropped a small [Whirlwind!] into their mugs, spraying the ale everywhere.
〈Whoa!〉
〈Wha— wh-what the—〉
〈Uwahhh!〉
〈Cold! It’s freezing!〉
I immediately dispelled the magic and erased the traces, then sat down innocently and sipped my drink.
The man called Wise glanced at their panicked faces, then at me, chuckled, and walked off.
“You bastard! What the hell did you do?!”
“Oh dear, you’re soaked! Ale’s for drinking, not wearing, you know.”
“You’ve got guts, kid. Better watch your back out on the plains.”
“Ah, perfect. I’ll be heading out from the east gate tomorrow morning for some hunting — I’ll be waiting for you there.”
〈He just accepted that challenge without hesitation!〉
〈He’s got a talent for buying fights at premium prices.〉
〈Maybe he’s got a skill called ‘High-Priced Provocation.’〉
〈Goblin Rampage, we’re coming to watch your match tomorrow!〉
〈So, can a goblin horde beat the Gentle Breeze? Place your bets!〉
〈A goblin horde losing by sheer intimidation—there’s no contest.〉
〈Then I’ll take the long shot!〉
〈Wait, who’re you betting on?〉
〈Obviously the Gentle Breeze. He’s the one even Strongarm Olga invited into the forest.〉