Green Monster Epic

With two thousand pounds of grain as a foundation, the hobgoblins of the Greenwild Tribe had less motivation to hunt or raid these days. As the chieftain, Allen spent his days in the cave where the grain was stored, unwilling to leave this large pile of food.

In the following seven days, Allen delegated the daily hunting activities to Stone, allowing him to lead people on patrols within the Greenwild Tribe's territory. He didn't pay much attention to how much the tribe members managed to hunt in the afternoon.

"Chieftain, gnolls! There are gnolls!"

Stone hurried back from the wilderness, covered in the disarray of battle, with several wounds. His old leather armor, given to him by Allen, had gained a few new scars.

"Slow down, speak clearly."

Since breaking through his bottleneck, Allen's strength had been steadily and methodically improving. Now, he even had enough confidence to completely suppress the former Riftclaw.

"How many gnolls did you encounter?"

The Greenwild Tribe had dealt with the gnolls, their neighbors, quite a bit over the years. Minor skirmishes were common, so Allen wasn't alarmed.

"There are...this many, plus this many."

Stone held up both hands, bending two fingers on one hand. This was the counting method Allen had painstakingly taught Stone over the past year. Stone couldn't count beyond the ten fingers on his hands.

"Eight gnolls?"

Allen was a bit puzzled. Although the Bonefire Tribe and the Greenwild Tribe were neighbors, the Greenwild Tribe was relatively weaker and occupied more barren land. Gnolls rarely crossed the border. On the other hand, the Greenwild Tribe often risked crossing into Bonefire Tribe territory to hunt for food.

"What are the casualties?"

The tribe had lost five warriors during the last raid, and a cub who had just turned fourteen had died a couple of days ago. Now, the tribe had fewer warriors than during Riftclaw's time. Their strength had actually decreased, and the gap between them and the gnolls was even wider. Allen had to take the sudden appearance of a small gnoll team in Greenwild Tribe territory seriously.

"Okay, no one, die. Agou, here, hurt. Dasha, here..."

Stone stammered, reporting the results with gestures. Hearing that no one had died, Allen breathed a sigh of relief. As for the tribe members being injured, as long as they weren't disabled, it wasn't a problem for the thick-skinned hobgoblins. Time would slowly heal their injuries.

"We, also see, humans."

When the word 'humans' suddenly came out of Stone's mouth, Allen's face lit up. The presence of humans meant that a human trade caravan might appear again. At least, in Allen's memory, humans rarely appeared alone in the wilderness.

"That, last time, give us, food, humans."

"What?"

Allen was a little confused, then he realized that the humans Stone was talking about were the human trade caravan whose grain they had robbed seven days ago. He quickly stood up, grabbed his double-handed axe that he had placed aside, and shouted loudly, "Everyone, assemble! Everyone, assemble! Today, we're going to have a big one!!"

The village was in chaos. Adult female hobgoblins and male hobgoblins who had just returned from outside gathered in a confused pile under Allen's command.

"If we can take down the human trade caravan today, I'll give everyone an extra meal tonight!!"

"Allen!! Allen!!"

That one sentence made the whole tribe boil over. The feast seven days ago was the best meal the tribe members had had in years. Even now, many tribe members would drool when they recalled the food of that night.

"Let's go!!!"

Allen waved his hand and strode out of the village in high spirits, leading the way in the direction Stone pointed.

At the border between the Greenwild Tribe and the Bonefire Tribe, the human trade caravan was being torn apart and chased by a team of more than a dozen gnolls. Regis, the human warrior who had suppressed Allen seven days ago, was now in a disheveled state, maneuvering through the fighting, supporting eight or nine fellow warriors, protecting the human trade caravan and preventing the gnolls from approaching the caravan.

"Respected hobgoblin leader, I wonder if you would be willing to accept the protection mission of my Silverglade Trade Association. If you help my trade association drive away the pursuing gnoll team, my trade association is willing to offer two sets of complete chainmail and five excellent spiked clubs."

Allen's team was spotted by the human trade caravan's scout from afar. Feli, the caravan manager who had last met Allen seven days ago, cautiously approached Allen and his team under the protection of two shield warriors, blocking Allen and his team in front of the caravan.

"Hmph, you are currently entangled with the Bonefire Tribe's fellows. After you two fight, we will attack the remaining victors. Everything will be mine."

Allen was clear-headed. The broad perspective that his dreams had given him made him less ignorant than the other tribe members, so he could easily judge how to act to benefit his team more.

"Hahaha, it seems that you still underestimate the strength of our trade caravan. How much damage do you think these gnolls can do to our trade caravan? And guess whether we will still have the strength to wipe you out after we drive away the gnolls?"

Feli pretended to hold his left hand behind his back, tightly pinching the flesh of his lower back, so as to divert his fear and prevent the other party from seeing through his flaws.

Who would have thought that everything had been smooth sailing along the way. Seeing that the border of the Elven Kingdom was only a little more than two thousand miles away, they would encounter three tribes with advanced professions in this remote place. This unlucky luck made the caravan manager Feli's head ache. It seems that the water in this wilderness is still very deep.

In Feli's view, Regis's team of warriors, which was very powerful, had lost half of its combat power after several battles. It was really difficult to ask them to protect himself and others through the next thousand miles. Especially when they encountered a kobold gang of hundreds of people with a warlock caster more than a hundred miles ahead, Feli and the others had no choice but to return the way they came, transfer the disaster of the kobolds to the gnolls, and retreat to the hobgoblin territory with difficulty.

The hobgoblin gang was the weakest of the opponents they had encountered, posing the least threat to their trade caravan. At the same time, Feli keenly realized in the previous encounter that the leader of this hobgoblin gang had considerable wisdom, at least able to communicate normally with their trade caravan, which meant that they might have a chance to sit down and have a good discussion.

For Feli, this was already the best choice: after all, they were now deep in the Mansa Wilderness, and with their strength reduced by more than half, it would be far more difficult to return the way they came than to break through the kobold tribe's interception here.