The sour stench of cheap ale mixed with sweat wafted through the greasy wooden tables of the Oak Barrel Inn.
A few unshaven Adventurers gulped down the last foam of their drinks, their voices unusually loud under the influence of alcohol.
“Hey, did you hear? A ‘Demon Paladin’ showed up in Ximu Town!”
“Hah? Demon? Paladin? What kind of weird name is that?”
“ Tsk, you’re really out of the loop, aren’t you?” The bearded man wiped his mouth smugly. “It’s that guy in blinding silver armor, looks like he stepped out of a temple mural—a Paladin, but with a weird helmet that doesn’t seem proper at all.”
He lowered his voice, as if sharing a secret.
“I heard he took on eleven Goblin quests and completed them all in less than three days. That’s got to be over a hundred Goblins—someone with that much bloodlust doesn’t seem like a Paladin at all. Calling him a Demon would be more accurate.”
“Yeah, yeah!” A skinny man nearby jumped in, spitting as he spoke.
“I saw it with my own eyes! Two days ago at the Guild entrance, he handed in the quest and tossed three blood-soaked cloth bags onto the counter. The Receptionist’s face turned red from fright, and he even asked, ‘Are there any more Goblin quests?’ I have no idea what he’s after.”
Laughter and chatter buzzed, drifting toward the corners with the greasy air.
Shi Hanfeng was calmly poking the last piece of stew on his plate with a fork.
He chewed steadily, swallowed, and set the fork down.
Demon Paladin?
The neon bloodline of this world is still too strong.
It does sound flashy, and not much less so than ‘Goblin Slayer’.
But no matter how exciting this lousy title is, if the panel doesn’t recognize it, it gives him nothing. Even a little extra strength or a new skill unlock would be nice.
All that showiness can’t compare to the few Silver Coins in his backpack.
If titles in this world really gave attribute bonuses, he wouldn’t mind swaggering around with ‘Goblin Butcher’ or ‘Treasure Chest Hunter’ on his head.
He finished the rest of the stew in a few bites and stood up, leaving the noisy scene behind.
Pushing open the heavy wooden door of the Oak Barrel Inn, the cool morning air, mixed with earth and cooking smoke, rushed in, finally washing away the greasy smell from his nose.
He turned a few familiar corners, equipped his gear, and the Oak Door and Shield Badge of the Ximu Town Adventurers’ Guild came into view.
He pushed the door open and walked straight to the familiar counter.
“Good morning, Receptionist.”
He spoke habitually, his voice carrying a metallic hum through the visor of his full-face helmet.
“Are there any Goblin extermination quests today?”
Behind the counter, the brown-haired, braided Receptionist looked up at the sound.
When she recognized him, her smile bloomed brighter than the morning sun, her eyes curving into crescent moons.
“Rochet! You’re here!”
She instinctively brushed her bangs, but then seemed to remember something, her excitement dimming with a trace of embarrassment and apology.
“Um… I’m really sorry, Rochet.”
She twisted her fingers, her voice lowering, her gaze evasive.
“You’re just too fast. All the backlog of Goblin quests has already been cleared out by you…”
She paused, carefully observing the calm eyes visible through the seam of Shi Hanfeng’s helmet before continuing.
“A new quest was registered this morning, located near Heishi Cliff, with a reward of five Silver Coins. But…”
Her voice grew more apologetic.
“About an hour before you arrived, it was taken by a newly registered team of White Porcelain Rank Adventurers. I saw they were just registered and looked young, so I advised them to wait for you and form a party for safety. But the leader was especially enthusiastic, pounding his chest and saying, ‘It’s just Goblins, a piece of cake,’ and wouldn’t listen. He rushed into the forest with his team.”
She grew quieter as she spoke, sneaking glances at Shi Hanfeng, worried he’d be displeased.
“I’m really sorry! I couldn’t stop them, I…”
Shi Hanfeng’s interest was piqued.
Thanks to his diligent work, there weren’t many Adventurers around Ximu Town still willing to take Goblin quests—the profit was too low, after all.
Moreover, the quest location was rather remote, not somewhere a new White Porcelain would usually go. Who knew what they were thinking?
“It’s fine.”
Shi Hanfeng raised a hand, his metal gauntlet tapping lightly on the counter and interrupting her apology with a crisp sound.
A low chuckle came from under the visor.
“You did nothing wrong. If a quest is posted, it’s for anyone to take. Rules are rules. This isn’t your problem.”
His tone was calm, with no trace of annoyance at having been preempted.
But inwardly, he pursed his lips.
It’s hard to advise a dead man with good words.
Clearing Goblins is the most profitable option for him, but not for others, and he doesn’t need the Guild’s quest money anyway.
When grinding monsters yields more than quests, quests become just a side product.
Still, since someone already took it, he couldn’t be bothered to interfere.
“Well then,” he shifted the topic, “Are there any other suitable quests? Like clearing wild beasts or something?”
Since he was here, he might as well find something to do.
At his words, the Receptionist’s face scrunched up tighter, like a pinched bun.
“Rochet, there aren’t any.”
She pulled a sour face, her fingers unconsciously flipping through the empty Task Registration Book.
“You clear Goblins too quickly, and the new Adventurers have taken all the other quests. What’s left on the Quest Board are mostly long-term ones, like subjugating trolls, exploring underground ruins, or escorting merchant caravans to the City of Water.”
Her tone was filled with respect and a bit of helplessness.
Shi Hanfeng fell silent.
Is being too efficient a crime too?
Is the Adventurers’ Guild’s KPI assessment in this world so lenient?
Is the Goblin God slacking off lately?
Why haven’t fresh mobs been air-dropped from the Green Moon to restock supply?
This crop of newbies is hopeless!
Forget it.
He shook his head internally.
No Goblins, no quests—was he supposed to be a salted fish and laze at the inn all day?
The thought barely surfaced before he stamped it out.
No, too wasteful.
As a Player, how could he allow precious game time to slip away in idleness?
Doing some side quests for steps and experience coins was better than nothing.
“Heishi Cliff, huh…”
He muttered the location of the intercepted quest, making up his mind.
If he was idle anyway, he might as well take a walk outside and see how those enthusiastic newbies performed.
Maybe, if their efficiency was poor, he could even nab a treasure chest.
He silently prayed: Please, let those rookies not be too strong—at least leave some scraps.
“All right, got it.”
Shi Hanfeng nodded.
“I’ll head out for a bit.”
“Take care! Stay safe!”
The Receptionist waved as he left, watching the silver armor, adorned with holy patterns, melt into the morning light outside the Guild’s Oak Door.
Following the rough marks on the quest sheet and faint fresh footprints on the ground, Shi Hanfeng quickly found his target.
A cave entrance, hidden behind huge ferns and vines, appeared ahead.
It wasn’t large—barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side—dark as a gaping mouth waiting to devour.
Outside the entrance lay two Goblin corpses.
He squatted down, brushing away filthy fur from the neck of one Goblin corpse with his fingertips.
A slender wound had severed the windpipe and artery with precision—the edges smooth, almost no signs of struggle.
The other corpse was similar, a small penetrating wound in the chest, neat and clean.
“Pretty accurate.”
He muttered in surprise.
These wounds didn’t look like something a panicked rookie could inflict.
Looks like there was a skilled swordsman in that team—a proper squad, not pure novices.
After all, there were no barriers to registering as an Adventurer.
Even a farmer with no experience could sign up if he wished.
Was this team also here to farm easy targets?
Just as he was about to stand and enter the cave, he caught a twitch from the hand of the second Goblin corpse out of the corner of his eye.
It was such a subtle movement that it could have been his imagination—but Shi Hanfeng didn’t take it as one.
With a flick of his wrist, the Wufeng Sword appeared in his hand.
He stabbed it through the Goblin’s eye socket, straight into the brain.
“Gah—!”
A sharp, distorted scream was abruptly cut off.
The “corpse” convulsed violently a few times, then lay still.
[Goblin killed ×1]
[Obtained: Silver Coin x1]
A translucent notification flashed at the edge of his vision.
“Well, I was overthinking it.”
Shi Hanfeng swiftly pulled the sword out, flicking off the red and white viscera on its tip.
Goblins pretending to be dead, with no one checking for finishers.
These were definitely real newbies.
No basic awareness, yet daring to charge into a Goblin lair?
That’s not confidence—it’s suicidal.
The relaxed mood he’d had for spectating faded.
This was a familiar routine.
He hoped it wasn’t another case of hot-blooded fools rushing in, thinking they were strong enough, only to become fodder.
He looked up at the cave’s depths.
It was silent inside—no sounds of battle, the stillness unnerving.
“Troublesome.”
He muttered, but didn’t hesitate.
Since he was already here, he couldn’t just watch a few living people become Goblin rations before his eyes.
Gripping the sword tightly, he crouched and slipped into the cave.
Inside, the light was dim, only the faint glow from the edges of his helmet’s visor illuminating the ground beneath his feet.
This lair was different from any Goblin nest he’d cleared before—too spacious.
The entrance was narrow, but the tunnel widened as he advanced, both taller and broader than usual.
Unlike the typical straight-shot lairs, this one had multiple branching passages.
A main corridor extended forward, with two side paths splitting off—each dark opening like a cluster of eyes lurking in thick darkness.
Shi Hanfeng’s steps didn’t slow as he moved straight down the main route.
He trusted his defenses, and this approach might even lure something out.
Sure enough, as he set foot on the central path—
“Screech—!”
A piercing shriek erupted from a side tunnel on the left.
A small shadow shot out like an arrow, swinging a rusty short blade, aiming for Shi Hanfeng’s throat.
Hearing the noise behind him, Shi Hanfeng didn’t turn.
His free left hand grabbed the shadow’s neck, swinging it into the wall.
“Boom!”
A heavy thud mixed with the crack of breaking bones echoed.
The Goblin smashed against the jagged stone and slid limply to the floor, motionless.
[Goblin killed ×1]
“Thwap!”
Almost simultaneously, whistling sounds came from the right and rear passages.
A crooked, obviously hand-carved wooden arrow shot by, slicing past Shi Hanfeng’s right shoulder—unable to even leave a scratch on the silver armor.
Before the ambusher could notch another arrow, Shi Hanfeng picked up a stone the size of a baby’s fist and hurled it into the darkness of the right passage.
A dull crash sounded, followed by silence.
He ignored it and kept moving deeper into the main corridor.
This level of harassment wasn’t even an appetizer to him.
But as he advanced, the environment grew stranger.
The ground was no longer just muddy but coated with a sticky, dark green substance, like dried secretions.
Strange graffiti began to appear on the stone walls—twisted symbols drawn in what might be blood or mineral pigment, radiating an unsettling aura.
But what made him want to complain most was what he saw at a three-way fork.
A pile of pale bones had been deliberately stacked in the center of the intersection, forming a crude, half-human-height cone.
He remembered this.
It was almost identical to the Goblin Shaman totem from the first episode of Goblin Must Die.
No need to ask—the lair definitely housed a Goblin Shaman.
He didn’t know what to say.
In half a month of diligent grinding, together with Hans and the others, he’d cleared no less than twenty lairs—apart from seeing one Big Goblin, he hadn’t encountered any other variants.
Were these quest-snatching rookies chosen by fate?
How did they stumble onto a Goblin Shaman right away?
A strong sense of being targeted surged within him.
Was the goddess of luck in this world purposefully singling him out for different treatment?
She never gave him what he wanted, but others could hit the jackpot with a random quest?
Still, he quickly calmed down.
No matter what, he’d run into it now.
Looking at it, these newbies wouldn’t have it easy—handling a lair with a Goblin Shaman was beyond most White Porcelain Adventurers.
Just as Shi Hanfeng was making a pessimistic forecast for the rookies’ fate—
He heard the chaotic clatter of metal, coming from the deepest part of the main corridor “watched” by the pile of skulls.
Shi Hanfeng’s eyes narrowed, all stray thoughts vanishing instantly.
The sound meant there was still fighting inside—there were survivors.
As for how badly they were hurt, that didn’t matter.
As long as they weren’t dead, they could be healed.
“ Tch, whatever happens, hang in there.”
He sighed, holding nothing back.
His legs powered forward, the heavy silver armor not a hindrance—instead, the [Pope of the Pure Court] set granted him explosive strength beyond ordinary people.
“Thud! Thud! Thud!”
The metal boots pounded the damp ground, heavy and urgent, like war drums.
He became a silver flash, charging into the dense darkness that had swallowed screams and despair.