Gauss had entered the outer reaches of the Jade Forest many times before.
The most unforgettable time was probably when he was still only a level 1 professional, fighting alongside Grayrock Town's winter hunting force against a level 8 ogre shaman tribe.
The oppressive atmosphere of this forest had left a deep impression on him back then. But as time passed and his strength steadily grew, that old sense of constant danger in the wilderness gradually faded.
No matter how much he tried to remind himself not to grow complacent, it was hard to fully return to that state of relentless vigilance he had maintained when he was weak.
And now, even though his strength was already overwhelming by ordinary adventurer standards, the moment Gauss stepped into this familiar yet strangely unfamiliar forest, he raised his guard to the absolute limit.
The "atmosphere" of this forest had changed completely.
There was a bloodthirsty scent hanging in the air.
It was as if an invisible, immense pressure was draped across the entire vast forest overhead.
Gauss took a few deep breaths and quickly lowered his head.
That overwhelming presence was the strongest he had ever felt in his life.
It was brazen, majestic, utterly unrestrained—a crushing force that seemed to demand the submission of every living thing in the world.
Gauss naturally knew where that pressure was coming from. If there were no surprises, it had to be the ruler of the forest.
Only that adult green dragon could release its living aura with such absolute disregard.
Gauss swallowed, then kept walking.
That pressure felt terrifying on a sensory level, but its actual effect was not quite that horrifying. It was spread too thin, so for now it was more of a warning and a declaration.
Of course, if all of that pressure were concentrated into a single point, it would likely become something truly dreadful—enough to pin even transcendent creatures in place.
Following the handbook's instructions, Gauss did his best to avoid several major beast trails.
These broad paths were usually the main arteries used by monster forces, and monster scouts could often be found patrolling along both sides of them.
Gauss was confident in his goblin disguise, but there was no point in walking right into danger and increasing the risk of exposure.
And his pace was never especially fast.
There were simply too many monsters in the forest.
Goblin, kobold, gnoll, lizardman, troll—those common monsters were not even worth mentioning.
Every now and then, Gauss also spotted commander-level monsters, along with strange species he had never seen before.
Even a few hundred monsters traveling together only counted as a minor detachment.
When he ran into the main army, it was just an endless black mass stretching beyond sight.
It almost made his hands itch.
If he could cut loose here, he could casually rack up a five-digit kill count.
But unfortunately, he could not. Gauss knew that perfectly well.
If he could avoid fighting, then he would avoid it.
If he exposed himself here, then even if the Green Dragon Queen did not move personally, a swarm of transcendent monsters rushing in as reinforcements would still be enough to kill him.
This was the heart of enemy territory.
Gauss continued south, remaining intensely vigilant every step of the way, constantly alert to the slightest disturbance.
Even Eden, the King of Slimes, had been put on complete silence by him. Unless something unexpected happened, it was not to make a sound or disturb him.
Fortunately, the forest held such an absurd number of monsters that, alongside the Green Dragon Army directly under the Queen's command, plenty of "freelancers" from the forest had also been swept up into the tide.
These monsters had only been temporarily conscripted by the Green Dragon Queen, so their organization was clearly much worse.
Because of that, a lone-wolf goblin like Gauss walking through the forest did not stand out all that much.
He even picked up an abandoned wooden shield from the roadside and started walking with the bow-legged gait typical of goblins, stepping through the damp earth.
On top of a wooden watchtower in the distance, three gnolls stood scanning the surrounding forest with sharp eyes.
"Hm?"
"What is it?"
One of the gnolls let its gaze linger on a goblin in the distance for a moment.
After his companion asked, he shook his head.
"Nothing. Just saw another idiot who got separated."
The companion followed his gaze and also spotted that green figure through the gaps in the shade—looking left and right as if searching for its companions.
"These overgrown green runts really are stupid. If you ask me, Her Majesty shouldn't have called these little pests in at all. They're not even worth using as cannon fodder."
The gnoll shook his head, the corners of his furry mouth curling in open disdain and mockery.
Monster society had its own pecking order too.
The lower races mostly looked down on each other.
Gnolls were not exactly some elite race, but compared to goblins—which existed in overwhelming numbers—the quality of gnolls was noticeably higher.
Among a hundred goblins, you might not even get one with the potential to become an elite monster. Among gnolls, you might get one in a few dozen—or even a dozen or so.
So naturally, gnolls saw their own "bloodline" as far superior to that of lowly goblins.
But that was the kind of thing they only dared to say on a watchtower with no one around but the three of them.
Because for the Green Dragon Army, goblins were still an indispensable force.
There were simply too many of them. They were like weeds by the roadside. All the Green Dragon Queen had to do was circle overhead once, and she could gather a whole batch of monster soldiers who even brought their own rations.
And because the goblin population was so massive, even though the proportion of stronger individuals was low, elite-class, commander-class, and even transcendent goblins still inevitably appeared among them.
These gnolls only dared sneer at bottom-tier, lost goblins like the one in the distance. If they were facing a goblin senior officer stronger than themselves, they would be reining in those thoughts immediately and putting on flattering smiles.
Savage and crude—that was only the stereotype people applied to monsters. In truth, even monster society had its own polished rules of social maneuvering.
If they mocked a powerful officer of another race, they might very well be dragged out and beheaded as spies the next day for something as absurd as stepping into the command tent with the wrong foot first.
Once Gauss had moved out of sight, his pace picked up again.
Just now, he had felt several sets of eyes fixed on him, but fortunately his act seemed to have fooled them, and no further inspection followed.
The farther in he went, the more monster tribes he saw.
Gauss skirted around several Green Dragon Army main encampments, moving only through the cracks between smaller tribes.
Sometimes, when he ran into patrolling squads on the road, he would hide himself inside goblin camps in advance.
Wild goblin camps were simply too undisciplined to notice an outsider like him slipping in.
Or rather, most of these goblin camps were already temporary mixed rabble forces patched together from all over. They barely knew each other to begin with. They had only answered the Green Dragon Queen's summons because instinctively they could not refuse.
For example, the moment Gauss spotted a wyvern descending in the distance, he immediately turned off the path and slipped into a large goblin camp.
He found a quiet corner and sat down silently to wait.
A few meters away, an elderly goblin, perhaps taking pity on the poor wretch who only had a wooden shield and not even a proper weapon, tugged him over to a tent where weapons were piled up and handed him a slightly rusted short blade.
Gauss accepted it while continuing to watch the patrols outside the camp from the corner of his eye. Once he saw they were still outside greeting the descending wyvern, he bared his teeth in a vicious goblin grin at the "companion" in front of him.
Even among goblins, this one counted as a rare "nice guy."
Judging by his face, he seemed quite old for a goblin.
His skin was wrinkled, and his body had clearly begun to shrink.
Maybe twenty or thirty years old? Or even older?
Human research had never really established a clear number for the natural lifespan limit of ordinary goblins.
Because for 99.9% of goblins, lifespan was not a luxury topic they ever got to worry about.
Those with enough potential broke through to become stronger beings and naturally extended their lives.
As for ordinary goblins with no potential, they usually did not live long enough to die of old age in the first place.
The world of monsters was thousands of times crueler than the human world.
A lone goblin whose body weakened and could no longer gather enough food would naturally starve to death—or end up hunted by other beasts and monsters in the forest and become their meal.
And even goblins that belonged to tribes rarely got to die peacefully of old age.
In goblin tribes, old creatures that only consumed food and could no longer provide enough value were exiled before they ever reached true old age.
So even though Gauss had killed countless goblins, the number of genuine "old men" among them he had actually seen was very small.
Goblin age distribution was probably an extreme spindle shape—an ultra-short growth cycle and an equally brief old age, leaving only the young and strong active most of the time.
Viewed from that angle, goblins really were excellent military stock.
Thanks to Comprehend Languages, Gauss had already long since learned goblin "street speech," and could even speak some simple phrases himself.
Compared to human Common, goblin language was incredibly simple—so crude it almost counted as primitive.
So even though his level was not especially high, it was still enough.
Given goblin intelligence, many of them were even less articulate than he was.
"You new here, little runt?"
"Yeah. Thanks for the weapon."
"No need to thank me. The Queen issued those. Every goblin can claim one."
The old goblin shook his head and casually patted the dagger hanging at his own waist.
Perhaps because he had lived so long, his speech was much clearer than that of the overwhelming majority of ordinary goblins. Even many elite and commander-class goblins would not have spoken as clearly as he did.
The old goblin tilted his head slightly and looked at the strong young goblin in front of him—green, baffled-looking, and apparently so clueless he had even forgotten to claim a weapon.
A trace of pity appeared on his face.
Maybe it was because he felt he did not have many days left himself that he had decided to do a good deed.
The thought of a naive little fool like this soon being thrown into that meat grinder of a battlefield made him feel sympathy.
After glancing around and making sure no other monsters or goblins were paying attention, he lowered his voice.
"Kid, remember this. When the fighting starts in a few days, don't be stupid and charge to the front."
"Run slower."
"If something else drops, you drop too. Find a rock nearby and lie down. Then wait for a chance to slip off toward the rear."
"Okay."
Gauss continued to play the part of a dim, slow goblin.
But inwardly, he could not help admiring the fact that even among the lowest goblins, there were still "clever" ones like this who knew how to game the system.
No wonder the old guy had survived this long despite being so weak.
This kind of playing dead was probably not his first time.
Once the human-monster war broke out, the bottom-tier goblins serving as cannon fodder would absolutely be the first and fastest to die.
Not every goblin would think as hard about survival as this old goblin clearly did.
Maybe because Gauss did not seem as brutish as other goblins, the old goblin even went on to share a few more advanced survival tips with him.
Meanwhile, Gauss was also waiting for that wyvern in the distance to leave.
It seemed some monster officer of considerable rank had ridden it in and landed nearby.
So Gauss did not hurry to keep moving. He simply stayed there with the old goblin.
He had prepared himself mentally long before setting out.
Even if it meant slowing his progress, he would reduce risk as much as possible.
Especially here, near the front edge of the monster army, caution mattered even more.
"We'll probably be marching again soon."
By this point, Gauss had also seen through the old goblin's state of mind.
More than "teaching" a clueless newcomer, he was really just terrified of the war about to begin, and happened to be using this chance to talk to what he thought was a dim-witted companion in order to ease the anxiety buried in his heart.
Wisdom itself was the source of his suffering.
Unlike the muddle-headed goblins around him, he fully understood just how horrifying the coming war would be, and yet he was far too weak to change anything.
All he could do was pin his hopes of survival on thin luck.
"Did you see that wyvern just now?"
"Those are probably messengers from the Green Dragon Queen, delivering marching orders."
"Stay away from people like that on the battlefield too. The shockwaves from their fighting alone could rip a little body like yours apart."
The old goblin sighed.
More marching meant the war was drawing closer.
He raised his cloudy eyes and looked around blankly. Many of his fellow goblins were still brawling in the open, baring their teeth and roaring at each other, completely unaware that their lives probably only had a few days left.
As one of the rare goblin "thinkers," but one without any gift for magic, he had always felt out of place among his own kind.
When it came to his race, what he felt was a mixture of sadness, pity, and hatred.
Whenever he saw these stupid green-skinned creatures fighting each other over scraps of food or some other petty thing, or pinning down other beings to vent their desires, a deep revulsion rose inside him.
Such a filthy, stupid, hopeless race.
And then, whenever he looked down and saw the same skin on himself—the same skin as those beasts—that revulsion would instantly turn into a deep despair.
Because he too was one of them.
His skin, his flesh, his blood—all of it proved that truth.
From the corner of his eye, Gauss glanced at the old goblin, who had sunk into unexplained gloom.
Outside the camp, the wyvern had already taken off again. Presumably the Queen's messenger the old goblin spoke of was off to deliver her orders to other tribes.
Taking advantage of the old goblin's moment of gloom, Gauss stood up and quietly headed toward the edge of the camp.
Once he crossed beyond this encampment belt and entered deeper forest, the odds of running into monsters would actually begin to drop.
And then he would finally be able to head properly for the dragon nest.
Only after Gauss had gone did the old goblin finally realize his quiet young companion was no longer beside him. He let out another faint sigh.
Gone already?
Even though they had only just met, that little guy had left a good impression on him—nothing like the other goblins.
Maybe, just maybe, he was another rare clever one like himself?
At that thought, he pushed himself up from the ground and decided to look for him again.
"Woo—! Woo—!"
But just as he was about to move, the assembly horn sounded from the distance.
He could only stop where he was and sigh inwardly.
The next time they met, it might only be underground—assuming an afterlife really existed.