Lord: Starting from a Goblin Nest

Count Richthofen was unwilling to speak much about his former family. No matter how Ron tried to subtly pry for information, all he got were vague sentiments like ”loneliness” and ”regret,” which did nothing to uncover the truth. He even asked for the location of the Count’s wife and daughter’s graves, but when Ron and the others went to pay their respects the next day, all they saw were lavish decorations and marble tombstones that looked as good as new despite being centuries old.

Looks like it all came down to the attic.

On the day the operation was to begin, everyone was ready. Once the patrol of Undead Creatures preceding the Gargoyle Opal’s watch had moved on, the group, hidden by Invisibility Magic, immediately rushed to the entrance to the attic staircase.

The butler, Alfred, seemed to notice something was amiss. He took a step, about to go see what was happening, but a loud crash from the next room completely drew his attention. The butler rushed into the room, only to see the goblin guest and a large white rat looking at him with innocent expressions. At Delaford’s feet lay the shattered remains of a priceless vase.

”I’m sorry, Mr. Alfred...” Delaford’s words held not a hint of apology. ”Big White and I were just playing in here, and we accidentally—”

”It’s quite all right, Mr. Delaford,” the butler forced a smile onto his stiff face. ”The shards didn’t injure you, did they?”

These were just ordinary works of art; they could be repaired to be as good as new with Magic. Delaford hadn’t really caused any major trouble.

”Let me help you! Big White, you help too! You’re the one who kicked the vase, weren’t you!” Seeing the butler magically produce cleaning tools and prepare to clean up, Delaford’s eyes darted, and he quickly rushed forward, trying to snatch the tools from the butler’s hands.

”I’m the one who caused this mess, I can’t trouble you! Come on, let me clean it up, give it to me—Gimme that!”

With a soft POP, a cloud of dust burst forth. Delaford and Alfred stared wide-eyed at the goblin’s hands. The Goblin Hunter had clearly used too much force. He’d managed to snatch away the cleaning tools, but the butler’s severed hand was still attached to the handle.

”Uh, let me see if I can reattach it?”

”Please, don’t...”

”Don’t worry, I’m great with a needle and thread. Just trust me!”

Alfred, whose brain had turned to mush centuries ago, naturally couldn’t figure out Delaford’s reason for doing this. He was simply following his master’s orders to give the guests the best reception and to be careful not to let them go to the attic. The current situation had overloaded his brain.

In order to be considerate of the goblin guest’s feelings, the butler had no choice but to repeatedly postpone the directive to ”go upstairs and check the attic’s condition,” letting Delaford do as he pleased. This played right into Ron and the others’ hands.

”Delaford’s succeeded on his end.” Ron glanced down and saw a tiny, thumb-sized gray mouse scamper up from downstairs. He immediately began casting his Magic. With a wave of his hand, he unfastened all the iron locks on the attic door. Victoria stepped forward and pulled the handle, and a musty smell instantly poured out from inside the room.

If they were exploring some dungeon, the group would definitely wait for the smell inside to dissipate before considering going in. But according to Delaford’s description, the woman inside would most likely not give them that chance. To avoid disturbing the still-sleeping Lord Count, Ron went in first, covering his nose and mouth as he plunged into the room.

Although he was prepared, the moment Ron stepped into the room, a vicious claw swipe shot out from an awkward angle, whistling through the air as it aimed for his face.

”Hah!” the Martial Monk let out a low shout. Facing the white shadow that had suddenly attacked, he didn’t hesitate for a moment. He threw a punch, meeting the sharp claws and sending the attacker flying. The white figure was no match for the Martial Monk. In just one exchange, it was thrown into the corner like a sack of rags. The rest of the group quickly filed in and re-locked the door.

The foul air muddled their vision. Ron carefully cast two layers of Protective Magic on himself before slowly approaching the attacker, who seemed to have been knocked unconscious.

Just as Delaford had said, it was a woman, and a young one at that. But it seemed she hadn’t washed in a very long time; her ankle-length hair was full of split ends and knots, and her body was covered in filth.

Strangely, however, the woman’s clothes looked brand new, just a little dirty. This made her overall appearance feel incredibly jarring.

”She doesn’t bathe but likes to wash her clothes often?” Aive looked at the unconscious woman with a strange expression. ”Who does that?”

”Are you serious?” Yelena glanced around the room. ”There isn’t even a cup of drinking water here. Bathe and wash clothes?”

”Magic could do it, of course, but if she can use Magic, why not do both?” Ron shrugged. ”Victoria, can you help wake her up? Quest might have hit her a little too hard just now.”

”I didn’t expect her to be just an ordinary person,” the Martial Monk, still in his Tiffling form, said helplessly. ”She was clinging to the ceiling and jumped down to attack you. I thought she’d at least be a bit tougher...”

”Her ability to move up there is thanks to the room,” Ron said, taking the opportunity while Victoria was waking the woman to quickly inspect the room. ”There are Enchantment Runes active all around, which allow her to move everywhere as if she had Spider Walking Magic. There are other types of Enchantments on the bed and desk, too, but looking at the dust on them, I think she hasn’t used them in a very long time.”

”She made her nest in that corner over there, right next to the fireplace,” Aive said, pointing to a pile of what was once cotton and rags, now completely rotten. ”Like a wild animal, she chose a relatively safe and warm environment.”

”And the fire from the hearth nearly burned her nest,” Yelena said, frowning as she looked at the ”nest,” which used to be bedsheets and quilts. The side closer to the fireplace had obvious scorch marks. ”Why would the Count lock a woman like this in here? Was he afraid she’d go out and scare the dead? Or was he worried about the castle’s furnishings?”

”I think it’s more like he’s protecting her,” Victoria said, slowly rising from in front of the woman and patting the dust and mud from her hands. ”There aren’t just Undead Creatures here, but also plenty of wild animals.”

”Mmm...” Before Victoria could finish speaking, the woman at her feet let out a low moan, slowly opened her brown eyes, and began to wake up.

”That was a good sleep... I was so tired—but, who are you people?”