Chapter 514: Chapter 262: Excuse Me... Is This Grey Valley Village?
The sharp and frenzied sound, like the manifestation of desire itself, was akin to the cold wind creeping into one’s collar in winter.
Tom and Mike abruptly halted their conversation.
Their bodies stiffened, pupils shaking as they turned, pressing their heads deeper into the grass mound, and cast tense glances into the distant darkness.
The midnight forest resembled a giant beast, crouching, breathing heavily and slowly, as the dense air drawn into the lungs was mixed with the cold, damp scent of earth and trees.
Night owls hooted and unknown insects chirped, still echoing in the depths of the night. Ordinarily, these sounds would be no different from usual, yet in this moment, they became exceptionally clear and sensitive to their ears.
The recently sown wheat had already sprouted, gently swaying with the evening wind.
Under normal circumstances, Tom might have remarked to Uncle Mike beside him about the good growth of today’s crops and the hope for a bountiful harvest.
But now, with his head involuntarily lowered and his breathing slowed, his full attention and focus were locked on the fields’ edge, where the towering woodland stood still in the distant shadows like deep water.
A heart pounding ever more violently and a pervasive, inexplicable unease made him sense that within those deep shadows, something ominous might be quietly brewing.
Initially, what Tom heard was just the whimper of night wind through treetops and the gentle rustle of branches colliding.
Yet, as he concentrated, those more subtle, fragmented sounds, resembling numerous insects crawling beneath fallen leaves, also entered his ears.
Whoosh—
Above the skies, the clouds shrouding the Silver Moon parted slightly, letting the cold, bright moonlight briefly illuminate the deep, dark woods.
Like a flashlight beam suddenly revealing the corner of a room infested with cockroaches you’d never paid attention to before.
Pairs of small, muddled eyes, filled with the ferocious gleam of beasts and unmasked greed, matched against the gnarled, slender, and ugly bodies, abruptly emerged into view.
Twenty? Thirty?
No!
That’s at least forty goblins!
Boom—
Tom’s mind turned blank, feeling heat that had brewed all night in his chest suddenly surge to the top of his head, scattering his thoughts and consciousness.
"Toot!!!"
The loud, resonant sound of the horn suddenly echoed from beside him.
Causing Tom’s body to jerk, his dazed mind gradually focused again.
Turning to look, he saw Uncle Mike had somehow already picked up the bone horn used to warn the villagers.
Veins bulged on his neck and forehead, cheeks swollen and flushed, as if he’d infused all his might into it.
Behind him, amidst startled cries and increasingly dense footsteps, was the firelight gradually rising in the corner of his vision.
Instinctively, Tom tightened his grip on the grass fork, clearly feeling sweat on his palms.
Knowing the villagers were rushing to his location, Tom didn’t even glance back.
Instead, he continued to nervously watch the dense forest ahead.
The horn’s sound was twofold.
While alerting the villagers, it also notified those vile and fierce demons in the woods that they were now discovered.
Yet, strangely, the goblins who should have charged forth at the horn’s sound suppressed their instinctive ferocity unexpectedly.
After a subtle commotion, they once again sank into the darkness.
Why?
Tom subconsciously wondered, eyes unknowingly drawn to the deeper, shadowy depths.
And then, he spotted a figure clearly more robust and hefty than ordinary goblins...
"Earth Goblins, it’s Earth Goblins!"
With indescribable fear, Tom’s voice trembled as he muttered.
Indeed, only such intelligent individuals, comparable to usually wise creatures, elite among goblins, can control these beings filled with brutal and chaotic souls like an army.
"What’s that supposed to mean, Earth Goblins?"
"What about the goblins, how many have come?"
Turning his body towards the rear, he saw the village men, holding torches, hurried over, some even hastily clad, having only draped a thin shirt before rushing.
Many still with sleepy eyes.
Yet uniformly, their hands gripped tools like grass forks, hoes, even iron pots used as makeshift shields.
The one who spoke was a man in front, roughly aged fifty to sixty, yet still looking physically robust.
"Village Chief, I took a quick look earlier, and it seems there are at least forty goblins this time!"
Mike jumped off the grass mound, nervously reporting to the chief.
"Forty goblins, my heavens, wasn’t it supposed to be no more than seven or eight? How did it come to this!?."
"It shouldn’t be. I haven’t seen signs of numerous goblins in the woods recently, where did these all come from?"
"It’s doomed, forty goblins followed by Earth Goblins commanding them, with just us few how could we possibly hold them off!"
Mike’s words had barely ended when the crowd before him became chaotic.
Evidently, while the Grey Valley Village residents anticipated some goblin attacks, they didn’t expect goblins to come in such numbers, far exceeding what they could handle.
Tom, however, paid no heed to this.
Upon spotting the Earth Goblin, his state of mind immediately transformed.