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Goblin Chapter 61: Swordsmanship
🕑 Added 2025-07-23 18:57:21 +0000 UTCAt a resale shop near the Adventurers' Guild, the Night Owl party offloaded all the miscellaneous loot from their kobold extermination quest.
Most lower-tier adventurers sold their spoils at these nearby shops—the pricing was generally fair.
And this time, they actually earned more than expected.
The total haul came out to 25 silver and 60 copper coins. A good chunk—12 silver coins—came from the corpse of the mutated elder kobold. The rest was from the mountain of scrap they'd hauled back.
Gathered around the now-empty cart, everyone wore satisfied smiles. For adventurers, there was no sweeter moment than payday. Holding those smooth, heavy coins in their hands made every bit of fatigue from the journey feel worth it.
Of them all, Daphne was clearly the happiest—her eyes practically sparkled with anticipation of finally affording a proper magic staff.
After splitting up, Gauss took another look inside his coin pouch.
One day of work, and he’d earned 11 silver. He was honestly impressed with the efficiency.
He counted again, stomach growling.
Time to find an inn.
This time, he didn’t splurge on a meat feast—he went with balanced dishes: grains, vegetables, and just enough meat. After polishing off a meal that could feed two or three full-grown men, he finally started to feel full.
As he stood to pay, he realized something: his body felt warm—like it was actively digesting food.
“Is this the effect of ‘Quick Digestion’?”
Maybe... but considering the trait was still only at its basic level, he doubted it would be this dramatic. Probably just placebo and hunger relief playing tricks on his senses.
…
Later, Gauss leaned on the counter of the inn, chatting with Sophia, the innkeeper.
“Business seems good lately?” he asked, glancing at the crowded hall, then at Sophia, who couldn’t hide her good mood.
“You noticed, huh? Yeah, more people have been coming through town lately,” she beamed. “Plus, I put a little sign outside to draw in new guests.”
Gauss nodded. He remembered seeing it last night—a simple wood placard painted in rough ink.
Not everyone could afford a room at a full tavern. Small, privately owned inns like Sophia’s made a good alternative. This place wasn’t in the town center, but it was peaceful, quiet, and cozy.
“So... are you raising the rent now?” he suddenly asked, remembering the sign said 4 copper per day, 60 copper per month—twice his current 30 copper monthly rate.
“Shhh—!”
Sophia quickly waved him down.
Glancing nervously at the chatting patrons in the hall, she leaned in and whispered:
“I’m just trying to earn a little extra from the out-of-towners, okay?” she said with a wink. “I checked—most inns around here have raised their prices too.”
So that was it—tourist season price gouging.
Still, even with the increase, her rates were cheaper than most taverns. And with how crowded the town was getting, a slight hike wasn’t going to drive customers away.
Gauss opened his mouth... then closed it again.
He’d been about to say he was technically an out-of-towner too.
But then again... this was the first place he’d ever seen in this world. In a sense, this inn was home.
“If you ever raise the price again, just give me a heads-up. I can afford it now,” he said, accepting the water she offered after a pause.
“I can make a few silver just from one mission.” Not that he was bragging—he made 11 silver just yesterday.
“Come on, no one makes that much so easily,” Sophia chuckled. “You’ve got a bit saved up, sure—but don’t start throwing it around. Save while you’re young.”
She didn’t know much about adventurers, but she figured new rookies didn’t earn that kind of coin often.
“Believe what you want,” Gauss grinned, shaking his head.
He didn’t feel like explaining. No need to brag.
When he finally leveled up and became a Bronze-tier adventurer, then maybe he’d tell her. Surprise her a little.
After finishing his water and shaking off the last of his drowsiness, Gauss said goodbye and left the inn.
…
“Lvl.2 Mage Armor (10/20)”
“Lvl.2 Magic Missile (11/20)”
“Lvl.2 Mage Hand (19/20)”
His spell proficiencies were climbing fast.
Mage Hand, which he hadn’t even been actively training, was already close to Level 3.
But so far, he hadn’t sensed that special feeling—the “pull” toward a professional path. Which meant even Lvl.3 might not be enough yet.
He wasn’t sure whether Level 1 spells like Mage Armor followed the same rules as cantrips.
Still, seeing Mage Armor already halfway through Lvl.2 after just a few days of practice reassured him. If his pace held, Lvl.3 and Lvl.4 shouldn’t take too long—especially compared to most other apprentices.
His growth had definitely been fast—especially when he compared himself to the rest of Night Owl Squad.
But this morning, he wasn’t planning to train spells.
Today, he was heading out to meet a swordsmanship instructor and patch up his weakest area: close combat fundamentals.
He’d casually mentioned the idea to Doyle the day before—and Doyle had immediately recommended his own teacher.
In this world, just like there were adventurers, there were instructors—people who trained those adventurers.
Big cities even had full class guilds, but you couldn’t join until you officially stepped into a professional path.
Grayrock Town didn’t have anything like that, and Gauss hadn’t qualified yet anyway. So if he wanted someone to teach him basic swordplay, he had to pay out of pocket.
He technically had another option: Gron, the smith at Black Anvil Forge.
But Gron preferred to keep his professional status private, and Gauss didn’t want to overstep by asking for special treatment. He figured it was better to pay someone else than impose on a near-stranger.
Besides, all he needed was someone with solid sword fundamentals—no need to waste a professional’s time.
After wandering through town a bit, Gauss arrived at the courtyard Doyle had described.
The gate was open.
Inside, behind low packed-earth walls, about a dozen boys and girls were swinging wooden swords under the guidance of a gruff-looking middle-aged man.
“Excuse me, I heard you teach swordsmanship? Doyle sent me.”
The moment Gauss stepped into the yard, all eyes turned to him.
Some of the kids stared in awe. Others watched him with curiosity—or caution.
Unlike these greenhorn trainees, Gauss looked like a real adventurer.
Especially his gear—his weapon alone earned him envious glances from the kids still training with wooden blades.
He didn’t even look much older than them... and yet clearly, he was on a different level.
