Lord: Starting from a Goblin Nest

Whether an inherent connection existed between a path’s difficulty and its correctness was a subject studied by countless people across every world and culture, but Ron and the others had no intention of delving any deeper into the matter right now.

Since Jilannis was certain their path was the right one, they simply pressed onward.

As the sky gradually darkened, the setting sun loomed ever larger as it sank toward the horizon. Its crimson halo washed over the sprawling, layered Red Mould, making the fungi look unearthly and dangerous.

And in fact, they were.

CRASH— Sera slammed her body into a Thorny Beast the size of a rhinoceros. The Grip of the Vast Wave, held before her, sliced the beast open as she charged. The creature’s immense size was not its primary weapon against the group. Against living plants like this one, the Grip of the Vast Wave was in its element, unleashing its greatest power.

“How many is that?”

Victoria followed wearily behind Aive, conserving as much energy as possible. The long days of trekking across the Fungal Mat were a severe drain on both stamina and willpower. Even she was starting to feel exhausted.

“Nineteen. Maybe twenty.” The Vampire Descendant, however, seemed full of vigor. As the sun went down, a dozen or so pairs of crimson eyes flickered in and out of view around her. Their owners hid their massive bodies within a black mist, ready to counter any plant that dared to launch a surprise attack.

“Your hounds don’t seem to be in high spirits,” Jilannis said, conjuring a faint glow to illuminate the area for Ron. “Did they go through a lot of nasty fights while I was away?”

“For them, every fight here is a nasty one,” Silvia snorted. “This bunch is extremely picky. They don’t eat plants.”

Night Howling Hounds were carnivores. Forcing them to fight Spore People and Thorny Beasts was a thankless, exhausting task. The fact they were still standing here was purely out of respect for Silvia.

After all this time together, the Night Howling Hounds had to admit their master hadn’t become any more evil, nor had she grown closer to the ideal they wished to serve. Yet, whenever they felt defiant, she would exude a unique aura that compelled them to obey her commands.

Tonight, this sensation seemed particularly strong. The hounds gathered at Silvia’s feet, growing more and more agitated.

“AWOOOO—”

The huge Night Howling Hound leader suddenly threw back its head and let out a long howl. Following its lead, the rest of the pack joined in with a cacophony of dreadful wails.

“Quiet! You’re being deafening!” Silvia slapped the pack leader, but it didn’t stop. “I told you to be quiet!”

“What’s going on?!”

“This has never happened before?” Anastina asked, turning to look with curiosity. “Don’t tell me these big fellas are going into heat, are they?”

“How many beasts have you seen go into heat in the winter?” Aive sighed. “Silvia, you should probably send them away. If this keeps up, I’m afraid we’ll attract another horde of enemies.”

On this Fungal Mat of Red Mould, the group dared not rest. They relied entirely on Victoria’s Divine Magic and a few Alchemy Potions to press on. Under these conditions, every new battle made their situation that much more perilous.

“No, wait,” Silvia was about to take Aive’s advice and send the hounds back to the Ethereal Plane, but Ron raised a hand to stop her. “They’re responding to something. Or calling out to something. Don’t you think?”

“But who are they calling to?” The Vampire Descendant didn’t understand what Ron meant. “The entire pack is here.”

“No, not all of them,” Ron said, nocking a Cloud Burst Arrow and aiming into the darkness ahead. “They’re missing a master. A master who’s truly evil.”

As if to prove Ron’s point, the Night Howling Hound leader suddenly fell silent and began to lead the pack forward. Nothing Silvia said could stop them.

“Remember? Night Howling Hounds require an evil master,” Ron said, raising his shortbow. His next words, however, were for the hounds themselves. “I know you can understand me. Don’t go. Silvia is your true master.”

“If you insist on this, I’ll have no choice but to kill you all. Stop. This is my final warning.”

The leader of the Night Howling Hounds turned its head toward Ron, its eyes filled with wariness. It knew, of course, what this man was capable of. If they ignored his warning…

“Don’t listen to him, my darlings.” As the hounds faced off against Ron and his group, a malicious laugh echoed out from the darkness. It was followed by a large, deathly pale hand that came to rest on the pack leader’s head. “Follow your nature and decide. Who will you follow?”

“A true noble with ambition and aspirations, or a bunch of thieves who have stolen another’s rightful place?”

“Wait, that voice…” When the large hand appeared, Ron, Silvia, and the others all froze. “You… It’s you!”

“Enough with the ‘you, you.’ It sounds so uncultured.” As he spoke, the owner of the hand revealed himself from the darkness. A black-and-red mist, so dense it seemed tangible, emanated from his body. The Night Howling Hounds appeared to relish this substance, defecting to his side almost instantly, purring and rubbing against the newcomer’s coat and trousers.

The newcomer did nothing to discourage the fawning of the large hounds. He revealed to Ron’s group his deathly pale skin, the deep, dark circles under his eyes, and two sharp fangs that protruded past his lips as he eyed them with malevolence. The black-and-red blood mist coalesced in his right hand, forming a two-handed heavy sword as large as a door.

The greatsword seemed to possess no weight at all; he held it easily in one hand. Yet, with the exception of Anastina, no one dared underestimate the weight of the two-handed heavy sword—because many of them had been taught a harsh lesson by it before.

“Count Richthofen!” Silvia froze, the name escaping her lips involuntarily. “You’re still alive?!”

“Are you that disappointed?” the Vampire Count said, striding toward them step by step. Compared to their last encounter, he had lost the territory and castle that had been his stronghold, but his power seemed to have grown even stronger.

“Don’t worry. You won’t be disappointed for long.” His tattered formal wear, shredded into dangling strips, whipped wildly in the wind, as relentless as his own thoughts. “Because I am here to take back what is rightfully mine!”

“And everything you possess!”