"A 'non-public' commission?"
A hint of hesitation crossed Gauss's face.
From the elder's tone, it seemed tied to his recent spree of goblin hunts.
So—a special commission related to goblins?
That, at least, piqued his interest. But…
Without knowing the specifics, he wasn't about to say yes. Not even for a fat reward.
Yes, he was very good at killing goblins—his scouting and extermination methods had been honed to a fine edge across many jobs. But if the target turned out to be a Goblin King or a Goblin Hero, his current strength was still far from enough to take on those top-tier specimens among goblins.
The Goblin King—also called the Goblin Monarch—only emerges in large goblin tribes, a top-end individual. A king commands hordes of goblins; beyond being vastly stronger than common goblins, it's surrounded by elites, extraordinaries, even lord-rank goblins. It also excels at command and logistics, and can grant special boons to its forces when needed.
Most Goblin Kings start at lord rank—the human equivalent would be Silver-tier adventurers, Level 11–15 Professionals. Some that rule super-massive tribes can break into even higher tiers.
Goblin Heroes, on the other hand, follow a different path: pure personal power. Their solo combat ability is terrifying—often high-lord rank—and there are records of legendary Goblin Heroes. They are one of the ceiling-level combat powers that this numerous green-skin race can produce.
Worth noting: some Goblin Heroes, despite outmuscling a king, will still obey a king's orders at times.
There are other evolutionary routes too, which can yield more top-tier sub-species—though those are rarer.
That's what makes goblins frightening. Even if the vast majority sit at the bottom rung, that tiny sliver of possibility—combined with obscene reproduction and sheer numbers—will reliably "roll the dice" into a handful of top-end outliers. Those outliers in turn shelter the masses and keep spawning more goblins.
In the last centuries-long monster war, the super-sized goblin kingdoms hidden deep in monster territory supplied a constant flood of "troops," and, working with other monster races under the Demon King's banner, they actually suppressed the allied forces of humans, elves, dwarves, and others for a time.
It wasn't until Roland the Brave—lauded as Humanity's Strongest and the Empire's Light—led his party into the monster heartlands, carved a path to the Fallen Court, and took the Demon King's head that the war finally ended.
In this world, top-end combat power really can flip a battlefield.
Of course, that over-spec'd hero party has long since scattered—Roland was wounded and retired, the war ended, and a dozen other changes took their toll. Even within the same "camp," different races and nations have their own frictions and interests. Pulling together a team that could roam the Dark Continent and monster lands at will again isn't likely anytime soon.
Gauss drifted for a moment.
The elder took it as him weighing pros and cons and didn't press, patiently waiting.
Gauss refocused on the senior director. "My squad's in a rest cycle right now, so I can't commit on the spot. If it's convenient, could you share some basic intel? I'll take it back to my teammates and decide after we talk."
The elder nodded.
"About a month ago, a geological survey team exploring the Obsidian Trail veins near the border mountains went missing," he said, tone turning grave. "The guild then dispatched a search team led by a Level 5 warrior."
He paused.
"So far they've only found signs of large-scale goblin activity deep along the Obsidian Trail—organization and scale far beyond a normal tribe. Unfortunately, the creatures were expert at withdrawal and concealment. Aside from a single amulet carved with the Blackfang Totem, there was nothing of value."
Blackfang?
The name rang a bell for Gauss.
"Yes—Blackfang," the elder confirmed. "One of the Five Great Goblin Tribes."
With the prompt, Gauss recalled what he'd read: the Five are the five most populous super-kingdoms of goblins on the Dark Continent. Among them, Blackfang specializes in beast-taming, boasts many thralls, and has exceptional mobility—the famed goblin wolf cavalry is their calling card. Beyond wolf riders, they field rat riders, winged-beast flyers, and more.
Each goblin tribe is a tight, fully formed monster nation: king and priests, craftsmen, officers and soldiers, commoners, slaves—clear ranks. Blackfang is the best at raiding and relocating; they razed many towns during the war.
"After the war, didn't the Five Tribes pull their power back to the Dark Continent's interior?" Gauss asked.
These tribal goblins aren't the same as the wild rabble. The former are organized goblin regulars.
"They did," the elder said. "But this isn't exactly new. In the last decade or so, guilds across a border spanning tens of thousands of li have frequently picked up tribal totem traces. The large-scale invasions have stopped; the small-scale infiltration and probing has only gotten more frequent."
He sighed, fingers tapping the table as he organized his thoughts.
"These goblin nations, with mature civilizations, are far more patient than we like to think. They sow seed teams—small detachments carrying their totems and signature methods—on long expeditions, looking to incubate nests across the long frontier."
Gauss listened in silence.
"A 'seed' could be just a shaman and an elite rider with a dozen or a few dozen fighters," the elder continued, "who then quickly absorb local wild goblin bands, arm them with more advanced organization, and form a force that's anything but trivial.
"The survey team likely ran into one such Blackfang-organized local force."
"The commission is to investigate the cause," he concluded, "and eradicate that budding organization."
"I understand the guild's caution," Gauss said slowly. "If Blackfang really is moving behind the scenes, the threat level—and the… implications—need careful handling."
He wasn't just thinking of raw power, but what a tribal totem signifies. It could be a harbinger. Post it openly and the whole hall will know; rumors and bad actors could stir trouble. Better to probe quietly, prepare defenses, and send sharp teams to nip sprouts in the bud. Whatever the monsters intend to do is exactly what humans must stop.
"Please keep this confidential," the elder said, pleased. "Aside from your teammates, avoid spreading it."
Selecting Gauss hadn't been the elder's idea—he was just the messenger. The guild evaluates many adventurers every year and chooses reliable, hands-on, capable, high-potential newcomers for these.
A special commission like this offers rich experience and is a great boost to a Professional's growth. And a goblin-focused job clearly suits someone like Gauss, who has rare efficiency and expertise against goblins.
"What's the reward?" Gauss asked next.
It sounded hard—and it was. A team led by a Level 5 warrior had found nothing; that alone said the enemy was competent. Even a 'Goblin Specialist' like him might come up empty. Even without danger, he could still sink time and walk away with nothing.
"There are many options—spells, mounts, coins, even some modest inheritances," the elder said. "Quantitatively, think enough resources to raise an ordinary, talentless commoner to a Level 5 Professional.
"I don't have the exact catalog. The reward isn't issued by this branch; I'm only relaying. On completion, you can claim it at any city-level guild. Also, before the mission, the guild will prepare targeted supplies—more effective antitoxins and beast-repellents, for example. Blackfang is very good with beasts and poisons."
Gauss thought for a moment.
On rewards alone, it was solid—very generous, even. Generous enough to feel like cultivating seedlings.
So… had he been tagged for some priority-nurture list?
And it sounded like city-level had its eye on him already. He knew his rapid rise wouldn't escape the guild's vast intel machine—he just hadn't expected it to happen this soon.
"I'll talk to my team first," he said. "Our priest is in the middle of a level breakthrough; I've been clearing local jobs while I wait."
"Of course," the elder said with a kindly smile, unsurprised—he clearly knew Gauss's recent movements. "Please get back to us soon, either way."
Gauss stood. "Understood."
"Oh—if you accept, you'll be joined by a temporary teammate. Please be prepared."
Stuffing someone in temporarily… Gauss hesitated, but nodded that he'd taken the point.
He left the guild still digesting the flood of intel.
Investigating and wiping out a tribal goblin expedition—even if it's "only" a local integration—is far more dangerous than cleaning up wild tribes.
But it was also a rare opportunity. Risk and reward are twins.
The guild's reward alone was tempting—by the senior director's account, even Level 3 spells, elite flying mounts like griffins, or other, more mysterious prizes were on the table.
And this was a goblin job. He'd get to harvest a lot more elite goblin spirits, potentially turbo-charging his clay goblin's growth.
Plus plenty of low-tier goblins…
The commission itself was a reward. Leave it be and someone else would take it; if they botched it, the goblins could use the foothold to funnel in strength, integrate locals, and become a regional threat.
The mention of a temporary teammate, though, gave him pause. If possible, he didn't want strangers in the party—especially for a one-off. He was different from other adventurers; the Adventurer's Manual made him peculiar. Spend enough time together and teammates can't help but notice. Thankfully, Alia and Serandur were good people who looked the other way, sparing him a lot of explanations.
Strangers meant uncontrolled variables. If the person had a bad temper or was fiercely self-willed, the trip could be miserable before it even began.
Gauss knew how mixed the adventuring crowd was. His team's purity was by design. Over the past year or two, plenty of lone wolves had approached him wanting in; after his "interviews," all were rejected—mostly for personality. They tried to hide it, but his instincts rarely failed.
Some lone wolves have serious problems. Lack of teamwork and cooperation is the least of it. He'd once met one who made his skin crawl at first sight. A little digging turned up the rumor: a notorious "party killer." Constantly switching teams; every team he joined "accidentally" got wiped out—everyone but the "lucky survivor."
Anyone with decent intel avoided that kind like the plague. Once is an accident, twice maybe, but repetition means rot—more likely a jackal who engineers "accidents" and feeds on teammates' inheritance and loot.
Such a teammate is worse than an enemy. Even if you sense something off, you can't stay on guard every second.
A guild-assigned temp probably wouldn't be that bad—but still needed caution.
"I need to think it through," Gauss murmured. "Maybe once my team's together, we can vet things and arrange an early meet-up with the temp to feel them out."
~~~
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