《Reincarnated as a Warlock with zero skill》Chapter 7: The Oyster

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The darkness crept in quickly after the goblin rider made his leave. Not wanting to waste time, I had instructed one of the local men to take a horse and an urgent message to Kerren regarding the impending attack.

It was unlikely he would make it to the city before sunrise, but in theory all we had to do was hold off the attackers until reinforcements could reach us and we would have the numerical advantage. At least that was the theory.

Torg and the other Son’s had been busying themselves preparing makeshift defences. Wooden planks and rusted farming tools where stacked high to create barriers across the main road. These had also been placed in strategic locations around the village to control where the enemy could and couldn’t attack.

The elder had mustered the local fighting men and armed them with pitchforks and other pointed objects. Considering they were facing an impending goblin attack they were in good spirits. The villagers were a proud people and despite being offered the opportunity to make an escape, they all decided to stay and fight. Some were even singing a goat related shanty.

“What do you think our chances are?” I asked Asha and Torg as we sat around the tavern table studying a rough sketch of the village topology. Torg and Asha were engrossed in the sketch, I was busy repeatedly tapping my fingers.

“We are outnumbered, and they have mounted units. But they have no artillery or mages. The natural chokeholds we have made with the defences should nullify the numeric advantage somewhat.” Torg said simply, staring directly at me.

“How long do you think we can hold out for?” I asked, stroking the back of my neck and feeling the hairs stand up in response.

“The men are in good spirits, but most have no training. We may hold out for a few hours if we are lucky.” Torg added.

I cleared my throat, “Will that be long enough?”

“No, but I have support spells and healing. I can summon about fifteen elementals to assist. Would that be helpful?” Asha asked, brushing her hair behind her ears.

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“That would bulk our numbers. If we place them on the frontline, it should preserve morale and buy us more time.” Torg nodded.

“Do it Asha.” I ordered.

“Consider it done.” She replied.

I stood and walked towards one of the stained-glass windows, stroking my hand across some of the knickknacks gathered on the windowsill. My stomach grumbled, angry at the lack of sustenance.

“I uh, I guess I will ask the obvious question. How come I could understand the goblin guy?” I asked.

“There are goblins that can speak common tongue. Just like there are humans who can speak goblin. It is not that uncommon.” Asha explained, tugging on the edge of her tunic. “Apparently, there are towns to the West where goblins and humans live and work side by side.”

“Really?” I scratched my jaw, mulling over the possibilities. If humans and goblins could live side by side, then maybe the Orc Lord could be reasoned with. Or at least the goblin chiefs.

“There is one other issue.” Torg stated, as if the news of goblins and humans cohabiting was no bid deal.

“Oh?” I wondered.

“We need to ensure you survive. I think it would be wise for you to leave the village.” Torg said calmly, then crossed his arms.

“I agree.” Asha added with a quick nod to reaffirm her stance.

“I cannot leave the village and let others do my fighting. And even if I wanted to, surely it is surrounded?” I replied, hoping for an out.

Not that I disagreed about me leaving. It was probably the first idea that I could really get behind. But I needed to put on a show of bravado.

“The sewers beneath the tavern run from the cellar to the mouth of the nearby river.” Torg drew a finger across the map, the river was a fair distance away.

“Then I will lead the woman and children that are sheltered in the basement out to safety.” I explained calmly. “When they are out, I will return.”

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“You are a liar and a coward.” That annoying voice in my head boomed.

‘A dead hero isn’t much use to anybody.’ I thought back, impressed by my own quick wittedness.

“Oh, forgive me great hero.”

“Great idea. I’ll take you to the cellar now.” Asha smiled.

“The sooner you leave the better.” Torg agreed.

“OK, but I have one more question.” I said, moving away from the window and perching a cheek on the edge of the tabletop. My stomach grumbled again so I picked up one of the fried oysters and took a bite, “who are the fearsome ones?”

Asha and Torg shrugged. I carefully spat out the chewed bollock which had a ridiculously creamy texture.

“My guess, they wanted the village chief to hand over the warriors. Maybe they wanted hostages. Perhaps they are just trying to avoid needless casualties. Goblins aren’t known for their tactical prowess, it could just be a whim.” Torg said.

“Hmm.” I pondered. It seemed the most likely scenario. If a village you were about to attack had useful resources such as food, perhaps avoiding a fight made more sense. Taking a few prisoners and letting the villagers escape in exchange for an endless supply of goats seemed like a good deal.

“We should evacuate the women and children whilst we have the opportunity.” Asha said, interrupting my thoughts.

“Right.” I said, moving towards Torg and giving him an awkward hug and a pat on the back. “Don’t die. I will be back as soon as possible. If you need to, fall back to the tavern cellars and follow the sewers.”

He nodded in response. Of course, I had no intention of returning to help.

As Asha led the way through the rear of the tavern and down a set of stone stairs, her crimson hair seemed particularly vibrant.

The cellars were surprisingly spacious, not what I was expecting at all. Large wooden barrels - that were three men wide – filled most of the stone basement. It was bright, with several mounted torches emitting a warm amber glow. A jovial murmur could be heard as the women went about their gossiping. If you hadn’t have told me the village was under the threat of a pending attack, I would have assumed it was an arranged meeting of the sewing club.

Small children were playfully dashing back and forth. A grubby little boy was so entranced with the chasing that he ran straight into my side and fell back. I lifted a leg and response and gave him my meanest stare. I may not have mastered its full effect on adults, but on children I was practically an expert. In response, he scarpered backwards on his hands before standing up and moving towards his mother. He held on to her russet pelisse.

Asha clapped her hands together dramatically. In response a gaggle of ladies and children emerged from the crevices of the cellar.

“Ladies, this is Lord Kaiden. He is a great warlock from the capital, he will get you to safety.” Asha explained calmly.

“My Lord.” The ladies bowed in unison.

“If you’re a tough warlock, why aren’t you going to fight like my dad?” The annoying boy from earlier said with distain, whilst still hiding behind his mother like a little bitch.

“My Lord, please. I beg forgiveness.” His mother moaned.

I held out my hand, palm up and smirked.

“I may not look tough, boy, but I am the only thing keeping you and your family from being taken by an army of goblins. If you would prefer, I could leave you to it?”

There was silence. I pointed towards a gated entrance that I assumed was the sewers Torg mentioned.

“I thought not. You will follow me through these tunnels and out of the village. Once your safety is assured, I will return and defeat the goblin threat. If you have a problem with that then say so now.”

Again, silence.

“Excellent. Gather your belongings, we leave immediately.” I ordered.

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