A recruit fell on his back and dropped his shield. Because of this, the entire defensive formation collapsed, allowing the goblins to thrust their weapons through and injure several recruits. In an attempt to recover, the recruits tried to shrink the defensive perimeter, but Arthur had a different opinion. With frustration, he began shouting commands:
"Faelor, heal the wounded!"
"Spearmen, prepare to throw!"
"Shield bearers, ready to strike!"
"Chadwick and the rest, get ready to intervene!"
His commands came rapidly, but due to the recruits' lack of experience, none of them reacted immediately—except for Faelor, who quickly cast a healing spell on the recruit who had been stabbed in the chest.
After a brief moment of hesitation, the spearmen lunged forward and struck several goblins. The shield bearers then grabbed their short swords and readied themselves to attack. At that moment, Arthur gave the order: "Push and stab!"
With all their strength, the defending recruits shoved their shields forward and attacked the goblins from behind them. As the defense opened up, the spearmen hurled their spears at the goblins in the rear while the shield bearers fiercely stabbed the ones in front. This sudden and powerful attack resulted in half of the remaining goblins being easily killed.
But the battle wasn't over. The surviving goblins charged at the confused recruits. These recruits had barely learned a few techniques, and the chaotic combat around them made it impossible for them to keep up. Fortunately, Chadwick and the other veteran soldiers intervened swiftly, killing several goblins and putting themselves at the front line. The remaining recruits followed, and within a single minute, most of the goblins were slain, while the rest scattered in all directions.
Arthur surveyed the battlefield with mixed emotions. His heart was racing—fear, worry, and relief all tangled together. Things hadn't gone terribly wrong, but he couldn't calm himself.
He could barely stop his body from trembling. He had prepared for this moment for a long time, yet it still affected him deeply. The grotesque goblin corpses scattered all around were enough to make him feel nauseous. He knew that most goblins in this region were still just children who hadn't even reached E-rank, but the same applied to his soldiers—they were just trainees, with no real experience or power.
That's why, knowing the best method to deal with goblins, he had spent the entire past week drilling them on three main techniques: thrusting with spear and sword, spear-throwing, and shield-pushing. He also taught them how to form a defensive wall. For that purpose, he had asked the craftsmen to make rectangular shields, just like the Romans used. These shields were poorly made and only from wood, due to the lack of time—but despite their simplicity, they were enough to defend against the goblins' primitive weapons.
Sigh…
Arthur forced himself to calm down. He looked at the goblin corpses around him, trying to get used to the grotesque and bloody sight. That's when he noticed Faelor, who had been healing the young man stabbed in the chest, had stopped casting and was shaking his head in regret.
Arthur instantly understood what that meant and let out a sigh. The recruit had died. Seeing the body of someone who had been healthy and alive just minutes earlier made his chest tighten. Even though Arthur had lost his parents at sixteen, he had never gotten used to death. Every time he heard of someone he knew passing away or saw a funeral, he would feel a strange discomfort.
Several minutes passed in silence. Arthur remained on his horse, observing everything and thinking. He didn't use the Logical Analysis skill to calm himself. He didn't want to escape reality in the easiest way possible. Instead, he had a deep internal dialogue with himself.
Death and destruction were constants—whether in this world or his original one. He knew he couldn't live a peaceful life, not when problems would come to him on their own. In truth, he realized how lucky he was to have ended up in such a remote and isolated place instead of somewhere worse. What he had first considered a curse was beginning to look like an irreplaceable opportunity.
'I really didn't understand the kind of opportunity I've been given. Even if it's all based on a dangerous misunderstanding, I now hold absolute authority over this barony. No one can take it from me… except the real Arvan. I've already been able to do things and access resources I'd never have been able to without power. Even though Baronet Edgar and his son pose an obstacle, I can eliminate them easily—if I'm willing to take the risk.'
'The people of this barony are terribly miserable. If I give the commoners a chance to improve their lives, they'll seize it wholeheartedly. As for the nobles… every one of them is a useless loafer. All they do is eat, drink, and sleep. They don't train, don't plan for the future, and don't realize that what they have isn't permanent.'
Arthur's thoughts were brutally realistic. Duncan and Edgar had average potential and access to various resources, meaning they could have reached C-rank in a short time. But they didn't. Laziness wasn't the only reason—most people in this world didn't even know proper training methods. They just swung their swords or did basic things like lifting stones or jumping. But that didn't apply to Arthur. He knew hundreds of techniques, both from this world and his original one.
Once he had sorted out his thoughts and steeled his resolve, Arthur dismounted his horse. Chadwick approached him and saluted. "What are your orders, my lord?"
Without even looking at him, Arthur spoke loudly so everyone could hear:
"Faelor, treat the severely injured first. Those with minor wounds, clean and disinfect them yourselves."
"You, Chadwick, take twenty recruits and sweep the surrounding area. Eliminate any monsters or goblins you find."
"Leopold, form a small team and gather the goblin cores. Then burn the corpses."
Leopold was one of the recruits with average potential, but he seemed promising. Arthur estimated he would reach E-rank in just a few days.
"As for the rest of you, form defensive teams and guard our perimeter. Stay alert—we haven't wiped out all the goblins yet."
Everyone moved immediately, carrying out his orders with discipline.
Only Faelor remained still. Quietly, he covered the dead recruit with a worn-out linen sheet, then glanced briefly at Arthur. 'This isn't the Arvan I knew.'
'How ridiculous…' After spending some time with Arthur, Faelor had noticed enough inconsistencies to begin suspecting his identity. Still, he found the idea absurd. Impersonating a well-known noble wasn't something you could do so easily. Despite his growing doubts, Faelor chose to stay silent. After all, no one would believe him—and he might lose his head for inciting rebellion against the duke's son.
Sigh…
Without thinking further, Faelor turned toward the injured and began treating them.