18 Phoenix Sentinels

Baroc held tightly onto the leash attached to his trusted mount as the horse galloped forward relentlessly, causing muddy water to splash up from the ground without end.

The man who was in his late twenties donned a long cape over his chainmail in order to guard against the weathers, and his sturdy pants stretched into his long leather boots that were tucked securely into the horse's stirrups.

Three horses accompanied his, each carrying a person on their back as well, and the group of four tore through the night, hurrying towards their destination.

No words were shared between them, though the quartet occasionally shot each other looks filled with worry.

Well, at the speed they were going, if would not be easy for them to speak to each other in the first place.

They were not far from their destination, which was also the reason why they were willing to overwork their horses to this extent. But at this urgent moment, this distance that was previously thought to be insignificant now appeared extremely far in comparison.

And indeed, this distance ended up being too far for them this time.

Baroc's horse came to a halt with a loud neigh, followed promptly by the other three horses. He looked at the village before him, the light in his eyes devoid of any warmth.

It was a small rural village that was relatively near to the the long and winding Dragontail Valley, and it was home to almost a hundred people.

Or at least, it used to be home to almost a hundred people.

At this moment, the village in front of their eyes was creepily silent.

No doubt it was already night time, but it was still unnerving to be quiet to such an extent.

The quartet, including Baroc, got off their mounts and started slowly leading their horses through the village.

It was a wreck.

Doors were smashed open, fences were smashed apart.

Loose items were thrown all over the place as if there had been a huge scuffle that involved the entire village.

But most importantly, there was a smell of blood that lingered in the air.

Yet there were no corpses lying around.

None at all.

How much blood had to be spilt for the smell of blood to linger in the air even after the all traces of corpses were removed from the scene?

Baroc shuddered when he thought about this fact, and he was not alone.

The frowns on the faces of his companions suggested that he probably was not the only one imagining the slaughter that had occurred here not long ago.

"The tracks are still fresh, they were still here probably not more than two hours ago," one of Baroc's companions concluded after meticulously observing the surroundings.

Her name was Adel, a lady in her early twenties, and someone who was known as a Tracker.

Trackers, as the name suggested, referred to people who specialised in uncovering others' tracks, allowing for the discovery of information just from observing traces left behind in the surroundings.

Of course, that was not all they were good for.

There were two sides to a coin, and most of them were also good in concealment skills, especially hiding their tracks from others.

Adel's clothing was especially apt for a Tracker.

She was wearing tight-fitting clothes made of cloth, secured tightly to prevent it from moving out of place. This allowed her to move carefully while minimising any disturbances to the environment, and her hair was tied up neatly for the same reason.

"Two hours…" Baroc repeated after her while staring into the distance. "We were far too late."

"Those darned goblins! These attacks are getting more and more frequent!" another of Baroc's companions cursed as he kicked a fallen bucket in frustration.

The name was Klint, and he was a man who seemed to be in his forties and donned a short beard.

If the long staff in his hands was insufficient to give away his role in the team, his long robe and the oversized pointed hat resting on his head definitely exposed him as a specialised spell caster.

"This is truly tragic," the last of the quartet pressed his palms together and closed his eyes while he gave a silent chant.

Winstart was a monk, a general term that referred to a combatant who was deeply aligned with a certain religion, allowing the individual to tap on the power of faith to utilise celestial magic.

The man was in his late twenties, and wore loose fitting clothes for comfort.

"We need to change the way we do things, leader. I don't think we can keep moving around like this. There is only so much we can do alone after all!" Adel turned towards Baroc.

"You are right, this is not going to work anymore with how frequent the attacks have become," Baroc sighed helplessly.

His right hand instinctively found the hilt of the sword that hung by his waist, and the familiar touch of steel served to calm his thoughts.

"Let us return to Waterfall City. We shall discuss further back at the base."

With that, the group slowly made their way back to the nearest city after giving their horses a short rest.

Even though the village was not exactly the best place to rest at, the group did not want to risk having their horses collapse on them halfway through the journey. They had worked the horses hard on the way here after all.

It took them less than an hour to get from Waterfall City to the village, but the return journey took more than twice that amount of time since they were no longer rushing.

Despite the relatively small size of the group, they had actually bought a huge house in Waterfall City, which they used as their base of operations.

Above the wooden door that was the entrance to the house, the words Phoenix Sentinels were painted, obvious for all to see.

Phoenix Sentinels.

That was the name of the group of four.

They were a group of adventurers who stood at the very pinnacle of the food chain, given the prestigious title of being S-ranked.

In fact, the number of S-ranked adventurer groups in the entire Great Manta Kingdom numbered not more than five, and they were also the only S-ranked adventurers within the city.

Largely known as mercenaries who were paid according to the difficulty of the job, S-ranked adventurers such as Phoenix Sentinels were able to demand a shockingly high amount of remuneration for each job they took, which accounted for the unnecessarily huge house of theirs.

After the four dropped their field equipment in their rooms and washed themselves up, they started entering the meeting room one by one, each sinking into the comfort of the sofas without speaking a word.

There was a solemn silence in the room, seemingly a continuation of the mood from before.

But after a few minutes, Baroc finally spoke up, "What do you think we should do from now?"

There was no response from his companions even after a long while, and Baroc was about to speak again when Winstart finally gave a loud sigh.

"The evil goblins must be put an end to, but they are simply too numerous. If we wish to end this plight for the region, we would need to enter the goblins' territories to wipe them out once and for all!" Winstart voice was resolute, showing how the monk truly believed in every single word he said.

"That is ridiculous. We are not even getting paid for this! Why should we risk our lives this way when the local army is doing even less than us?" Adel snorted unhappily.

"The purging of evil cannot be measured in monetary terms!" Winstart retorted immediately.

"My life cannot be measured in monetary terms!" Adel did not back down either.

"The salvation that you will gain from sacrificing your life for the masses similarly cannot be measured in monetary terms!"

"Oh man, why do I even bother talking to you about this?" Adel gave up at this point, much to the relief of the other two members of the group.

Baroc stood up from the sofa and walked over to the centre of the room, where a large rectangular table stood.

One item took up almost the entire area of the table surface – a large and detailed map of the Great Manta Kingdom.

Where Baroc stood, he was near the Eastern side of the map, allowing him to carefully examine the map of the area they were currently in.

"The fact that those darned goblins are hiding in the Dragontail Valley makes everything so complicated!" Baroc complained out loud.

"And now that the rainy season had started, it is no longer possible for us to stake out at any of the two main exits of the Dragontail Valley," Adel felt the need to remind the group about this point once again.

Due to the nature of their adventurer rank, Phoenix Sentinels received a huge payment for each job that they completed. But at the same time, the number of acceptable jobs that they were offered was relatively few.

With much time in between jobs, the group had used their free time to camp out near the exits of the Dragontail Valley, mercilessly taking out any groups of goblins that emerged.

However, the start of the rainy season meant that harsh weather conditions would make doing such a thing much more draining on the group, and the costs will outstrip the gains.

"Should we talk to the City Lord? Ask him to send men to build up fortifications near the two main exits of Dragontail Valley maybe," Klint spoke for the first time in the meeting.

"That is a good idea. If the area really can be fortified, then weather should no longer pose much of a problem for us," Baroc nodded in agreement.

"You think that Count Bastion would listen?" Adel snorted. "That guy only knows how to hole up in his city even as the surrounding villages are being raided by goblins. I really wonder what strings he had to pull in order to hold onto his post!"

"He might not be a very capable person, but he is not as bad as you make him sound. His actions are still understandable to a certain extent. There simply are not enough troops to spare, making it impossible to secure every village around!" Baroc lamented the current situation. "His decision to concentrate his soldiers in guarding the city itself is quite a rational choice!"

It seemed like the great war had truly taken its toll on the kingdom's armies, leaving them at a lack of soldiers to even properly guard its borders from mere goblins!

"About that, I heard that there is a huge expedition army making its way to Waterfall City from the capital, Windfall City."

Upon hearing those words, everyone's eyes turned to look at Klint, who smiled smugly in response for having presented information unknown to the others.

"Is the source reliable?" Baroc asked the question that was in everyone's mind.

"Highly reliable."

"Do you know how long it will take for them to get here?" Adel added.

"Days. Less than a week for sure, but my source was unable to narrow it down to the exact day."

"From the capital…" Baroc's eyes turned from the marking of Waterfall City towards where Windfall City was located on the map that was sprawled out on the table. "Orders of the new king?"

"Unlikely, they said he is a wastrel, no?" Adel shrugged it off without a second thought. "What would he know? If any, it should be the Chancellor of State's suggestion."

"Duke Ivan is a capable man indeed," Klint nodded in agreement.

"It matters not whose suggestion it was. What matters now is that the state of the region has become more and more unstable in recent weeks. This expedition army is truly a godsend!" Baroc let out a sigh of relief. "We need to find out who the leader of this expedition army is, and we definitely need to meet him to discuss the best way that we could defend against these darned goblins!"