Summoning Spell
Leylin noted the bloodshot eyes of the goblins that were charging towards them. As winter drew near, even the weakest and most cowardly goblins would go crazy.
They were small, and it was hilarious to see a group of green-skinned, short people pouncing towards you. However, their gazes were as fierce as wolves, enough for even a retired soldier like Old Bayer to tremble in fear.
Dying at the hands of enemies was just death, but dying by the hands of goblins meant that their corpses would be dragged back for food! Old Bayer shuddered at the very thought.
“Please mount the horse and leave, my guest!” At this moment, a trace of decisiveness flashed on his face. He produced a rusty longsword from under the seat of the carriage and released the old horse that had been pulling the carriage.
“It may be a worn-out horse, but these bunch of short-legged creatures won’t be able keep up with you. After you break out of here, just go backwards. Don’t stop till you get to the harbour!”