NotEvenMyFinalForm
patreon
Goblin Chapter 205: Gauss Rural Village Home
🕑 Added 2025-08-28 23:09:02 +0000 UTC“Finally back!”
Standing before Grayrock Town’s gate—nowhere near as grand as Barry’s—Gauss and the others let a faint sliver of relief slip into their voices.
They were used to the Forest Capital’s sky-piercing walls bristling with watchtowers and fortifications. By contrast, this two-to-three-meter-high parapet of rough-laid stone felt small—yet oddly dear and familiar.
Alia couldn’t help lifting a hand to gauge the wall’s height in the air.
Gauss drew a deep breath. The air was the same mix of earth, cooking smoke, and a faint animal tang—the scent of home.
Since crossing into this world, this had been his first long trip away. Coming back to familiar Grayrock now, he couldn’t help but feel sentimental. This, after all, was where his road as an adventurer began.
At the gate, a young guard he didn’t recognize started forward to bark at them to queue up—only to be grabbed by a bearded veteran beside him. The older man plastered on a smile and gave a small bow.
“Lady Alia, Lord Gauss—and sir—welcome back. A hard road.”
After nodding thanks, Gauss led the chocobos onto the familiar main street.
Nothing much had changed since they left. A street just wide enough for two carts to pass, simple goods displayed in shopfronts, a few women on stools under their eaves chatting as they scrubbed clothes in wooden basins. A farmer with fresh vegetables haggled with the grocer.
Everyday bustle washed over them.
“Same as ever.”
Serandur also looked around, taking in everything—lingering a little on the town where his two teammates had lived. His verdict, after a while: a perfectly ordinary border adventurer town.
As they sized up the place, the townsfolk were sizing them up—especially Serandur at the rear. More than a few people flinched at first sight; you didn’t see many serpentfolk here, and small townsfolk aren’t worldly.
Gauss noticed.
“Let’s go home first.”
They headed toward the rows of houses. They passed fewer professional adventurers than before; many had been drawn to the labyrinth outside Barry. Still, there should be a wave of returns soon.
They slipped into a flagstone alley. As they passed a corner, Gauss glanced toward a certain spot and relaxed when a familiar figure came into view.
At the inn counter, Sophia and the clerk Winnie were chatting idly. Suddenly Sophia seemed to sense something, turned toward the door, and joy lit her eyes.
“Gauss! When did you get back?”
“Just now—haven’t even unpacked.” He patted the storage pouch at his waist. “Right—Sophia.” He tapped Serandur’s arm. “This is my new teammate, Serandur, a priest.”
“Serandur, this is Sophia, my former boss—she looked after me.”
“Hello.”
“Hello.”
They exchanged brief greetings. Sophia’s gaze had flickered at first; he didn’t look like a normal human at a glance, and there was a chill to him. But when she heard he was Gauss’s teammate—and a priest—she managed a smile. She wasn’t ignorant of adventurers anymore; they sometimes lodged here, and she knew priests meant healing. Knowing Gauss had a healer with him, she was genuinely happy—less risk of getting hurt.
“Have you eaten?”
“Not yet.” Gauss waved it off. “We’ll go home and rest first, then come back and catch up.”
They parted with Sophia; Gauss and Alia split up to their own homes. Serandur, of course, followed Gauss—his house was big enough, with two unused guest rooms.
When they opened the door, dust lay thick on the furniture. First thing Gauss did was use magic to clean the place top to bottom. Serandur had meant to offer help, but seeing how deftly Gauss worked the spells, he swallowed the words.
“Captain, which room’s mine?”
He poked around the first floor.
“Either of the two guest rooms down here—no one’s used them.”
Gauss was deep in cleaning. The white staff boosted his cantrips a lot; what once covered a small patch now spanned several times that, and the stain-lifting was stronger. In no time the two-story house was sparkling, the furniture practically gleaming. Gauss looked over the results, satisfied. He told the four clay spiders, “Don’t leave the house. Don’t break anything,” then, with Serandur unpacked, went to meet Alia—hosting duties and all.
Alia’s cleaning lagged behind. When Gauss arrived she was in the thick of it, with Ulfen “helping” by getting in the way. Thankfully, Gauss was timely; a few minutes later, her place was spotless.
Alia, in apron, hood, and gloves, hugged a broom and stood there a little envious. “If only I could learn cantrips…”
“Even if you did, you wouldn’t use them like the captain,” Serandur said, bursting her bubble. The same spell in different hands yielded wildly different results.
To him, Gauss was a pure magic prodigy—cantrip or proper spell, he handled them all, and almost always better than others. In all his travels he’d never met anyone close.
Alia shot him a look. Fine. She knew he wasn’t wrong, but coming from him it grated.
…
The next day.
Gauss stretched and sat up. On his first night back in Grayrock he’d reserved a private room at Firefly Kitchen and invited acquaintances for dinner.
Few made it. Andeni was off “getting into trouble” somewhere, not at the Thorn Cottage; Gron of the Black Anvil politely declined; the Night Owl party seemed to be away on a job. In the end it was just innkeeper Sophia, clerk Winnie, Petra the guild receptionist (on break), and Gauss’s team of three.
A glance outside showed the sun already high. He’d slept well—golden nest, silver nest, none so good as your own little nest. His house wasn’t big, but it did the job.
Washed and breakfasted, the trio regrouped and headed for the Adventurers’ Guild. This was a “restful” return, but not a vacation—go too long without a hunt and you’ll get rusty.
The guild was still crowded. Pros heading to Barry’s labyrinth were one thing; most low-tier adventurers preferred to keep working familiar ground. Moving to a strange place—especially a big city—comes with real frictions: mindset, money, life plans.
As Gauss’s team stepped onto the first floor, the volume dropped a notch. Eyes turned their way; some people stared outright, others peeked from the corner of an eye.
It wasn’t just their presence—Serandur drew looks. Compared with orcs, dwarves, halflings, even half-elves, a serpentfolk tail that took up half your body was hard to miss.
More than a few hands tightened on weapons—if he hadn’t come in with Gauss and Alia, people might have thought a monster had strolled into the hall.
Gauss glanced at him. His face didn’t change, but his body had gone briefly stiff. Gauss needled him on purpose. “See, Serandur? We’re a showstopper—center of attention wherever we go.”
The tension in Serandur’s tail eased; his mouth twitched into the barest curve. “I’m used to it,” he rasped, self-mocking.
“What? Obviously they’re all looking at me.” Gauss smirked. “Mmm… being handsome is such a burden.”
The banter lightened Serandur’s mood. They drifted to the counter; Petra soon led them to a VIP room. Only after they vanished did the hall find its noise again.
“That snake guy was scary.”
“I thought it was a monster, haha.”
“Don’t say that out loud unless you want trouble.”
“Honestly… wouldn’t it be cool to have a snake-man teammate?”
…
“Same as always, Gauss?” Petra lifted a quest crystal. “Goblin rookies’ jobs aren’t very close this time.”
As his first—and closest—receptionist, she knew his tastes. “Yeah,” Gauss nodded. “Let’s skip the beginner jobs. Give us some regular ones to knock the rust off.”
He didn’t take the crystal. Petra paused, eyes resting on the rank badges on their chests—Gauss, Alia, Serandur—for a few seconds. “Knock the rust off,” she echoed inwardly. She spared a moment of sympathy for whatever goblins crossed them and went to fetch a stack of contracts. There were plenty of standard goblin jobs; spread on the table, it was quite a sight.
“Anything near Stone Creek Village?” Gauss asked, skipping the search.
“Stone Creek… let me think.” The village name out of the blue gave the twenty-something pause. “Sounds familiar.” She sifted the stack—and soon pulled one out.
“As it happens, here’s a contract for Stone Creek.”
So that’s why the name rang a bell; she’d seen this one before. Gauss took it—yes, the location was his hometown.
…
[Common Subjugation Quest]
Reward: 20 silver.
Details: A goblin band has taken the upstream shallows and woodlands of Stone Creek. Based on witness reports, the group numbers at least 30. Their activity has spread from the outskirts to several neighboring villages.
Time limit: 5 days.
…
It wasn’t a single-village posting, strictly speaking; several nearby villages had pooled the money. And he could see why it hadn’t been taken. The pay was low for the difficulty. Thirty-plus goblins wasn’t something bottom-tier teams jumped at; even a confident crew would balk at the poor value.
Looked like his home really was strapped—or just tight-fisted. A handful of villages could only scrape together 20 silver.
“Alright, we’ll take it.” He didn’t overthink it. They weren’t living off regular quest bounties anymore. If he didn’t take it, who knew when anyone would.
Petra registered the job quickly.
“Shall we head out?” There was no “urgent” tag on the contract, but Gauss decided not to delay. If something happened—and to his family—he’d never forgive himself.
“Right. The quest comes first.”
Alia and Serandur agreed without fuss, even moving faster than Gauss. They swung into their saddles and set out again.
Stone Creek lay northwest of Grayrock—not close. That was another reason no one had grabbed the job. The farther they got, the narrower and rougher the road became, shrubs and weeds growing wild on either side. The town’s smoke and clamor fell away, replaced by a raw countryside breath.
Chocobos were fast, and Serandur’s ground-glide was uncanny; the going was smooth. Sunlight spilled down; chocobo talons drummed the dirt and kicked up dust. Serandur slid over the dry ground with a steady shhh.
The scenery grew wilder as they went. Morning slipped into afternoon. As they neared Stone Creek, memories rose in Gauss’s mind—an indescribable feeling spreading through his chest. The land grew familiar. Ten-odd years unrolled before him: learning to farm, catching fish in the river, setting traps in the hills, making snares and tools. Like leafing through a book he hadn’t opened in years.
Finally, past a bald knoll with a few crooked old trees, the low, shabby outline of Stone Creek appeared at the edge of sight.
“That’s your home?” Alia, high in the chocobo saddle, looked down at the village and over at Gauss.
“Yeah.” His voice was even. “Let’s go. We’ll take a look inside first.”
It looked much the same as a year ago. His house sat at the village’s edge.
“Captain, I’ll wait outside,” Serandur said suddenly. Gauss knew he was worried his appearance would frighten his parents. The more traditional the place, the more they recoiled from people like him.
“It’s fine. Come along,” Gauss said, shaking his head. Serandur didn’t argue further.
Two chocobos bearing Gauss and Alia, a gliding serpent-man, a big gray wolf, and a raven—quite a parade down the dirt lane.
The children spotted them first.
“Monsters!!”
“Run!”
“Dad, come look!” They shrieked—excitement or fear—and scattered, calling the adults.
A few men with farm tools hurried out and shooed them home. Seeing Gauss’s party, the men trembled and stared from the lane, fear plain on their faces—until one noticed the adventurer badges on their chests and whispered to the others. The fear eased a notch.
“They’re… adventurers, I think!”
“But what about the monster?”
“What if it’s a disguise?”
The hushed talk was almost funny. Gauss recognized them—small-time bullies, not full-on thugs, but the sort who threw their weight around with family and neighbors. They’d needled him often enough. His family wasn’t weak in the village, so they’d never gone beyond words.
Now, facing him, the same men shook like quail.
Gauss sighed and waved them over from his golden chocobo. They grew more nervous—wanted to run but couldn’t seem to disobey. Hunched and shivering, they shuffled up to him. The pressure rolling off him made it hard to breathe. Just as they thought they were done for—that this was a monster in adventurer guise—the black-robed man spoke.
“Carson. Brian. O’Neil. How’s my family?”
Hearing their names, the three flinched and looked up at the familiar yet unfamiliar face. For an instant their eyes sharpened—they’d thought of something—but didn’t dare believe it.
There was a resemblance, and yes, that boy had gone off to make his way, but there was no way that kid and this imposing figure were the same person.
“I’m Gauss.” Seeing them play ostrich, he gave it to them plainly.
Gauss!!!
There wasn’t a trace of hometown joy. They swallowed hard, hearts sinking to the bottom. It really was Gauss. The world tilted. They remembered, very clearly, how they’d treated him. They never expected to see him much again—and in a year he’d come back a different man.
Guilty and overawed, their legs gave out and they plopped onto the dirt. Gauss found their panic a little exasperating—he’d only wanted to ask after his family before going home. He’d underestimated the impact he and his companions made.
He had to use magic.
“Friends!”
Mana swelled around him and washed over the three.
“Tell me how my family’s doing.”
Under the cantrip and Gauss’s high Charisma, the villagers went slack and recited what he needed. Hearing that everything was well—and that his elder brother and sister-in-law had had a son—Gauss exhaled and dropped the spell.
They blinked, then realized what had happened, terror prickling their skin. Controlled—by magic? Sorcery? They didn’t have the learning to name it; they only knew it was Gauss’s uncanny power. Being moved like puppets was terrifying.
“You can go. Try being decent people. Stop throwing your weight around,” Gauss said, sighing. He had no interest in payback. The three bobbed their heads. “Right, right—we’re going.” They scuttled away on hands and feet.
Other villagers had noticed by then, but seeing Carson’s lot bolt in fear, they did nothing—just watched warily from their doorways as Gauss’s party continued inward. More than one frowned at Gauss’s face. Why did it look so familiar?
Gauss led the way to a small courtyard at the village edge. His family wasn’t badly off for Stone Creek. They had land, and his father, Horst, was a hunter by trade—that’s how he’d raised two sons and a daughter, and why the boys were stronger than average.
Looking back, Gauss realized 5 points in an attribute was a healthy human baseline. A year ago he’d had 6 INT and 5s elsewhere—ordinary on paper, but in a poor rural place without much meat, “normal healthy” was rare.
In recent years, as Horst aged, his bad leg cut down his trips to the hills; game was scarcer, and meals got leaner. Neither Gauss nor his elder brother took well to hunting; it sounds simple, but talent matters.
Two years ago there’d been a drought; the fields yielded little, and the hills were empty. They still had some savings and stores, but two teenage appetites eat a lot. In the end, someone had to go ease the load. He was unmarried; Hawk was wed and Meilin was pregnant, so the seventeen-year-old Gauss took some dry rations and set out.
Understanding that, Gauss stopped at the gate.
“What’s wrong? Not going in?” Alia blinked at him.
“It’s nothing.”
He inhaled deeply, set his mind, and pushed the rickety gate.
Creak!
The wooden door, lashed to the posts with vines, made a racket like it might fall in. He stepped into the yard.
“Father, Mother—I’m home!”
He’d thought saying those familiar yet strange words would be hard; it was easier than breathing.
In the yard, a young woman and an older one sat on stools, chatting as they wove straw sandals. They looked up at the noise and saw a tall man in a fine black robe in the entry—a solid wall of a man. Despite the changes of a year and more—nearly two—Rosa recognized him at once from his features. She stood, disbelieving, face alight.
“You… you… you’re Gauss! My son!”
Tears streamed down her cheeks at the sight of his handsome face. Gauss hurried forward. Seeing his flesh and blood, the fear, guilt, and awkwardness evaporated; he was shaking. This was his road’s beginning, and these were his kin.
“Mom, I’m back.”
He bent and hugged her. Of all who’d opposed his leaving a year ago, his mother Rosa had been most adamant—like so many mothers, she loved her child and didn’t want him far from her side. In her simple logic, no matter how hard it was, a family could grit its teeth and get through it together.
“These two years—why didn’t you listen to your mother and come home to see us?” she sobbed.
He had no answer. With the original Gauss’s memories and feelings fully merged, he was Gauss. Whether it was the former boy’s pride—make good first, then return—or his own tangle of emotions, neither was a good excuse.
“Sorry.”
“You’ve suffered these two years, haven’t you?” That only deepened his guilt.
Behind her, the young woman Meilin stood awkwardly, dazed by her brother-in-law’s transformation. She hadn’t known him long—within a year of her marriage, Gauss had left to make his way. She remembered a thin, not-very-tall lad; the man before her was tall, handsome, and clearly well-off. Only those cool emerald eyes still hinted at the boy she’d known.
“I’ve… been an adventurer,” Gauss said simply, then beckoned outside. “Mother, Meilin—let me introduce my teammates.”
Alia and Serandur came in. They smiled, and Serandur’s smile made Rosa and Meilin flinch a half step—an instinctive, physical fear. But forewarned by Gauss, they swallowed it and managed a smile.
“Where are Dad, Big Brother, and Sis?”
“Your father’s napping inside. Your brother took your little sister to the fields.”
“I’ll fetch him,” Meilin said, hurrying in.
Horst hobbled out a moment later. He hugged Gauss—excited, but, as head of the family, composed. There was guilt in his eyes too. They exchanged a few words and then fell into silence, until Rosa, clinging to Gauss’s arm, peppered him with questions about the last two years and saved them from awkwardness.
Soon Hawk jogged in with their eight- or nine-year-old sister, Cicero, with Meilin calling from behind.
“Brother, you’re finally back!” Cicero remembered him. Mud still on her shoes, she bounced in and hugged his leg.
“Mhm.” Gauss ruffled her hair. She’d been six or seven when he left. He’d told her he was “going out to play for a few days.” Two years had flown. She’d grown.
“Gauss, are you hungry? I picked some melons.” Hawk was a quiet, honest sort, wrapped in patched linen. Like his father, he avoided Gauss’s eyes.
Back then, misfortune had stacked up. Horst broke his leg and the treatment cost plenty; even so, it never healed right, and hunting suffered.
Drought hit; fields failed; game fled. They still had some savings and stores, but with two big-eating lads and so many mouths, something had to give.
Married and with Meilin pregnant, Hawk couldn’t go—so seventeen-year-old Gauss set out with rations and hope.
First sons inherit; second sons strike out on their own—it was common. But Hawk had worried for two years, guilty and helpless; there were no channels for peasants to ask after the missing.
“Sure—let’s cook. I brought some things too.”
When he laid out thick slabs of beef loin and vegetables, the family gaped—and finally grasped, viscerally, how well he was doing.
Clothes were one thing; who knew their price? But beef loin… even the rich struggled to buy that. Cicero drooled openly, eyes shining at the ruby-red marbled meat, itching to pounce and take a bite.
Alia, holding her, couldn’t help the private jab—clearly Gauss’s foodie streak had a family source.
There was plenty, so everyone ate to bursting—except Gauss. Just as they were about to talk more:
“Mom, Dad, I need to head out,” Gauss said.
“What is it?”
“I took a contract—to clear the goblins upstream of Stone Creek.” He kept it brief.
“Now?” Rosa, just done with the dishes, went pale. Goblins were dangerous; even knowing he was an adventurer, hearing he was going to fight inhuman monsters set her heart pounding.
“It’ll be fine. In and out—this kind of job I’ve done plenty,” he soothed.
“Can I come?” Cicero piped up, excited. Lately, with the goblin threat, Hawk hadn’t let the village kids run free; he’d even brought her to the fields.
“No.” Gauss refused, firm and final. Even if there was a 99.9% chance of no incident, there was no reason to bring a child.
Killing monsters isn’t a game; even a lion goes all-out on a rabbit. Goblins were easy for him now, but if Cicero saw that ease and misjudged them later, the consequences could be dire. Her worldview wasn’t formed yet.
Startled by his tone, Cicero backed up, chastened. “Then I’ll wait at home.”
“Be careful,” Rosa and Meilin urged. Horst, though, showed no worry. He’d seen the world in his youth; he’d dreamed of being an adventurer himself before reality sent him to the countryside to marry and farm. He knew exactly what an adventurer’s badge meant. He couldn’t imagine how Gauss had done it in two years—but the badge was real. His son had achieved what the family couldn’t even dream.
Watching Gauss and his companions fade through the door, Horst sighed, proud. Hawk murmured to ease their mother’s fears: “Don’t worry, Mom. Gauss can swat goblins. You know George in the next village—the sword teacher? He’s nowhere near Gauss…”
Cicero still looked a little glum. She’d wanted to see how Gauss killed goblins. But his tone had left no room to argue.
…
They rode slowly down the village lane as murmurs followed them. Someone had already guessed Gauss’s identity after seeing him at Horst the hunter’s house, but still couldn’t quite believe it. Others, quick on the uptake, were already grabbing gifts—eggs and vegetables—to pay a call on the family.
Aside from his own, Gauss felt little for the villagers.
“Hard to believe you really came from here,” Alia said at last. When she’d first met Gauss, she’d guessed him a noble’s son—at worst, an illegitimate one. Only those people had the resources and talent beyond commoners. But the scene just now made it plain: Gauss grew up here, born and bred, an ordinary village boy. Could a person climb that many rungs in under two years? She put herself in his place—she couldn’t.
“The captain is a true genius,” Serandur said calmly. He’d long decided Gauss’s gifts were beyond common imagination. A genius breaks the rules and turns the impossible possible. However outrageous Gauss seemed, it made sense. He even suspected the captain was the stuff of legend…
He glanced at Gauss, heart beating faster, and thought:
A child of divine grace—the being their serpentfolk myths revered.
Comments
IdolTrust
Oh if he kills all thirty goblins he would upgrade his serpentine trait.
Rocky Staggs
I know he isnt the same but for the body he is in. Hope he helps them get set up. A gift for the body he uses. He has gold and some contacts. Im a sucker for paying it back.
