“Enemy attack!” I shouted. “Goblins!”

As I shouted, I raised my hand and loosed an arrow, piercing the head of the goblin that had ambushed the sentry.

The sentry came around and turned to fight, while the goblins swarmed in. I hurriedly reloaded my crossbow, but by the time I’d fitted the second bolt, the sentry had already been knocked to the ground by four goblins. The nasty little things were stabbing him all over with rusty swords and stone weapons, making him howl in pain. Just as things were about to take a turn for the worse, Uncle O’Neil’s battle-axe swept through the air. Blood sprayed everywhere, and all four goblins went flying.

“Get up!” He hauled the sentry to his feet. “Hold the line!”

Before he’d even finished speaking, more goblins emerged from the grass. The nasty little creatures brandished their rusty weapons and launched a surprise attack on our right flank. I took aim and shot the lead goblin down, but before I could load another bolt, they were already right in front of me. The crossbow was simply too slow to reload; that weakness was painfully obvious in a fierce fight. I really wished I had a submachine gun in my hands, so I could mow them all down with a rat-a-tat-tat.

“Humans! Kill humans!”

The goblins shrieked as they charged at me. I had no idea why I could understand what they were saying, but the fact that they could talk meant these little things had intelligence. My crossbow was useless at this range, and my sword still hadn’t been repaired, so I kicked the goblin at the front right in the face. It spun through the air, slammed into a distant tree trunk, and turned into a pile of tomato sauce.

“Come on,” I cracked my knuckles. “Weren’t you going to kill me?”

Under the shadow of my fearsome presence, the remaining goblins immediately lost their nerve. They yelped and turned to run. I sneered and pulled a “secret weapon” from my item box. It was a glass bottle encased in iron, with grooves carved into its surface to ensure it would produce enough pre-made fragments when it exploded. This potion, called an “explosive bottle,” was originally used by Alchemists to scare off wild beasts. But after I modified it using what I knew about warfare on Earth, it became a vicious fragmentation grenade.

“Fire in the hole!”

I gleefully hurled the explosive bottle at the fleeing goblins. There was a bang, and they were blown apart in a spray of blood and flesh. The fast-flying metal fragments tore terrible, densely packed wounds into their bodies, killing them in an instant.

“Elsa, watch your left!”

Uncle O’Neil’s shout snapped me out of my smug little moment. I immediately jumped to the right, narrowly avoiding a massive battle-axe. It crashed into the ground with a boom, sending up a cloud of dust. I rolled through the grass to put some distance between us, then looked up at the enemy who’d tried to catch me by surprise. A green monster over two meters tall was slowly lifting its axe. A necklace of animal teeth and stones hung around its neck, and metal rings were fitted around its long tusks.

“Waaaaaaaaagh—!”

The green monster let out a deafening battle cry. The goblins, who’d been driven back by the mercenaries and hunters, immediately stopped running. They eagerly snatched up their weapons again and charged at us with excited chatter. Orcs were here too. Now we were really in trouble.

“Attack!” The Orc swung its battle-axe. “Kill all the humans! Take the boars!”

Before it had even finished speaking, I tossed an explosive bottle right into its face. A loud blast followed, and the Orc’s head burst into a cloud of blood, spraying the goblins with it.

“The boss is down! Run!”

“Run for it!”

The goblins froze for a moment, then immediately turned and ran. Those nasty little creatures really were fair-weather friends. I picked up my crossbow and shot two of them down, but the rest had already fled beyond its range.

Within minutes, all trace of the enemy had vanished.

“Elsa,” Uncle O’Neil called. “Give me a potion.”

“Coming.”

I slung my crossbow over my back and hurried over to the wounded. It was the sentry. He looked miserable, his face covered in bruises and his body dotted with wounds of all sizes. Worse, the goblins’ swords were covered in rust from poor upkeep. They were practically “tetanus blades,” and anyone stabbed by one was likely to die from an infected wound.

Fortunately, this world might not have antibiotics, but it did have healing potions. I took one out and poured it over his wounds. The injured areas on the sentry’s body healed at a visible speed.

“Huh? I think I’m alive again…”

“You little punk.” Uncle O’Neil tapped him on the head. “Don’t forget to pay for the potion. Five copper coins.”

Don’t worry. I won’t overcharge you.

Next, I handed out potions to everyone else who’d been wounded in the fight, and quickly healed their injuries. Thanks to our quick response, and to the goblins not being very numerous, no one on our side died. That was good news. But while we’d been fighting the goblins and the Orc, the remaining boars had broken through the fence and escaped. We’d lost most of the game we’d nearly caught.

“Gather up the game. We’re heading back to camp.”

Rosen was the most experienced hunter in town, and he made the right call. Uncle O’Neil agreed that it wasn’t safe to keep hunting. They were worried about the other group, who’d gone to hunt deer north of Teardrop Lake. They had fewer people, with only three mercenaries guarding them.

Over the next hour, we gathered up the game as quickly as we could and returned to the lakeside camp. Rosen and O’Neil immediately called over several scouts to check on the group north of the lake. A sense of foreboding hung over everyone. Orcs and goblins rarely crossed the Grey Snow Mountains to the north. That mountain range marked the boundary between humans and monsters, and clashes between the two sides were rare. This was the first time monsters had crossed the border in such numbers. If things kept getting worse, Nagu Town’s safety would be in serious danger.

Fortunately, the lord’s army was stationed here for the time being. Reinforcements were close at hand.

At sunset, the scouts returned with bad news: the group hunting deer north of the lake had been attacked and was probably wiped out. Grief settled over the camp when everyone heard. Quite a few people quietly began to cry. Those who’d died or gone missing had been their neighbors, their friends, even their relatives.

Losing more than twenty people at once was a serious blow to Nagu Town.

As Rosen and O’Neil worked on a plan to retreat, a towering figure appeared at the edge of the camp. It was an enormous Orc, standing 2.5 meters tall. It wore armor made from animal hide and held a huge battle-axe in its hands.

“Humans, listen,” its bell-like voice echoed through the night. “Your people, our prisoners. Trade boars.”

They wanted us to trade our game for prisoners?

These guys really weren’t ordinary monsters.