Chapter 360 - 303: The Vice Commander of the Holy Order Army

Chapter 360: Chapter 303: The Vice Commander of the Holy Order Army

Washing his face with the frigid river water was bearable, but Red Eyes hated bathing even more. The Chief had ordered them to bathe long ago, ever since the tribe only had four members. Every new member was quickly herded off to bathe as well. Now that the weather had turned cold, bathing had become a form of torture. Red Eyes hadn’t bathed in nearly ten days, and he had no desire to jump into the icy subterranean river.

"Two cakes, a bowl of soup." After taking care of his personal business, he went straight to the mess hall and got in line for breakfast.

The female goblin serving the food ladled a scoop of thick soup into his wooden bowl, then picked up two fried, round cakes and handed them to him.

Sitting on a long bench, Red Eyes hunched over, his face close to the rim of the bowl, slurping noisily as he turned it. As the hot soup went down, a mild spiciness immediately spread through his body, followed by a warmth that grew from the inside out.

He’d heard the Chief himself had invented this hot soup. It contained some wheat flour, meat broth, and wild mountain peppers, wild wood-ear mushrooms, and some wild greens and nuts gathered from the forest. The whole soup was fragrant, rich, and had a pleasant sour and spicy taste. After a few mouthfuls, you couldn’t feel the winter’s chill anymore.

The Chief had called it something like "Hula Soup," but Bai Mao had since renamed it "Forest Soup."

After a few mouthfuls, Red Eyes felt his whole body come alive. The bone-deep chill had been completely driven out. He grabbed a Tree-man Fruit Cake that had been fried in Shape-shifting Monster oil, dipped it a few times in the Forest Soup, and began to chew heartily.

The mess hall started to get more crowded. Many goblins were greeting each other with loud "WALA WALAs." Lame Leg, holding a bowl of hot soup and a few cakes, sat down diagonally across from Red Eyes.

Unlike the others, Lame Leg "floated" everywhere now. His blue "Big Treasure" held him up just above the ground, letting him drift about. In the Chief’s words, it was "like he’s riding a hoverboard."

"That thing... when will it be modified?" Red Eyes asked Lame Leg, looking up while pinching his fruit cake.

"It still needs a little more time," Lame Leg answered, slurping his soup.

Yesterday, on a whim, Red Eyes had just picked up the iron tube and fired a Cannonball Fruit from it. The aftermath was getting kicked twice by the Chief. But the Chief didn’t seem very angry. Instead, he kept muttering something like "Ah Pi Chicken," "Ah Pi Chicken." Red Eyes had no idea what that was, but he knew it probably meant more fun things were on the way.

"Modifying it is a little difficult. The Chief and my teacher studied it yesterday." Lame Leg tore a fruit cake into small pieces, dumped them all into his Forest Soup, and pressed them down a few times with his spoon. "Teacher says the main problem is flight stability, but it shouldn’t be hard to solve."

Red Eyes knew the teacher he was talking about was the human woman, the Ghost Witch named Agatha.

A few goblins in the tribe had already started learning that strange language. Unfortunately, he’d tried a few times himself but could never remember the words. Compared to getting the pronunciation right, Red Eyes felt it was much more convenient to "speak" to others with his Longsword.

"Oh, right. The Chief also said yesterday that... that stupid kingdom might send more goblins," Lame Leg said, nodding as he scooped a piece of soaked fruit cake into his mouth and chewed.

"You mean that Flying Insect Kingdom Cyan Hide was talking about?" a voice asked from nearby. It was Nine-finger, who sat down holding his wooden bowl.

"The Feathered Serpent Kingdom," Lame Leg corrected.

"Whatever kingdom it is, we’ll cut down as many as they send," Nine-finger said with a laugh, his tone completely unconcerned.

Red Eyes nodded in agreement. His gaze flickered to the wall of the mess hall, where a white beast’s skull was still hanging.

The mess hall was built on a large platform by the subterranean river, next to the uneven walls of the underground cavern. The Fearsome Claw Bear’s skull hung from a protruding stalagmite. Not many goblins mentioned that Magical Beast anymore. Only occasionally, when they looked up, would their eyes sweep over the beast’s skull.

But Red Eyes still remembered that battle. It was the first time the Chief had led them to victory against a powerful enemy they thought was impossible to defeat.

"Yeah, however many come, they’ll all die-die," Red Eyes said with a grin, then lowered his head and went back to slurping his Forest Soup.

......

"However many there are, we’ll kill them all." In the Royal Capital of the Argon Kingdom, inside the reception room of a magnificent Cathedral, the young merchant Jabbar was listening reverently to a young man dressed in pristine white Armor.

"But those goblins serve that Evil God—the Feathered Serpent Evil God," Jabbar stressed, nodding, his posture still deeply respectful.

"Are you suggesting our Holy Order Army can’t deal with an Evil God?" the young man in white Armor asked, glancing sideways at Jabbar, his tone laced with displeasure.

"No, Lord Lingard," Jabbar said, waving his hands hastily. "Please forgive me, that was not my intention. It’s just that to us common folk, an Evil God is exceptionally powerful. And it hides within the Nightmare Forest. If I weren’t seeking revenge for my dead men, I wouldn’t have presumed to visit you."

"You know where this Evil God is hiding?" Lingard didn’t deign to look at the merchant, instead walking straight to the window. Outside, a group of Paladins in white Armor were sparring, practicing their Combat Techniques.

"Yes, my lord." Jabbar immediately pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his clothes. It was stained with half a bloody handprint. "This is a letter my caravan’s men sent back to me via carrier pigeon. The location is clearly marked on it."

Lingard glanced over, then reached out and snatched the letter. After skimming its contents, he tossed it onto a low cabinet in front of him. "May the War God save their souls. I understand the situation. I will discuss it with the Commander of the Holy Order Army soon. I don’t foresee any problems."

Upon hearing this, Jabbar bowed deeply. "That is wonderful news. If you can accomplish the great feat of eradicating the Evil God, I will certainly donate a large sum of money to the Church. I will also hire the most talented Minstrels to compose epic poems about you and the Holy Order Army."

"Alright, if there’s nothing else, you may leave." Lingard didn’t turn around at all, his eyes fixed on the scene outside the window. He waved his hand dismissively, as if shooing away a beggar.

"Yes, yes, of course. Thank you for your trouble," Jabbar said with another bow. But after he spoke, the corners of his mouth turned up in an unconscious smirk.

As the reception room door clicked shut, Lingard’s own lips curved into a sneer. He muttered to himself, "An Evil God... a perfect stepping stone to make a name for myself. As a Divine Chosen One of the Battle and Glory Church, this is exactly the opportunity I need."

"It’s just that the Commander has run off somewhere again, that little shorty," he muttered, pursing his lips. "Whatever. As the Vice Commander, I have the authority to mobilize the Holy Order Army anyway."

"It’s just one Evil God. A little effort and it’ll be taken care of. As for those goblins that serve it, they’re nothing. We just need to eliminate them all."

He stretched his neck, which cracked a few times. Then he reached out and grabbed at the empty air, as if closing his hand around something invisible.

CLANG. A sound of metal on metal rang out from his shoulder, as if something had just been hefted onto it by Lingard.

"Time to go practice my Swordsmanship. After we exterminate this Evil God, I should be able to become the true Commander of the Holy Order Army."

"That shorty isn’t even that tough. Without that Great Sword of hers, she’d never be able to beat me."

Outside the Cathedral, Jabbar reached his carriage and looked back at the towering, solemn structure. Then, a corner of his mouth lifted in a sneer, and he said contemptuously:

"Dumbass."