They were held in damp, filthy cages. Every one of them was pale, their eyes filled with terror. Their bodies were covered in bruises and scrapes, but fortunately, it seed they hadn’t suffered any more serious harm.
This seed to further confirm what they’d been told: the Bloodfang Tribe had abducted these young won to fulfill the special needs of "Blood Eye."
Two experienced militian imdiately went forward to comfort them, distributing the rations and fresh water they carried.
Just then, a militiaman suddenly cried out in alarm, "Sir, in here... there’s also a goblin!"
In the shadows of a corner of the dungeon, a short, green figure was trembling.
Seeing the Skeleton and the militian approach, it frantically waved its arms and shouted in a shrill voice, "Don’t, don’t co over here! I’m not a goblin! I’m a Goblin, a Goblin! Damn it, I’m a Goblin with a trade! I need to see your leader!"
Bone Valor went forward, unceremoniously hauled it out, and brought it before Lynch.
Lynch sized up the captive, intrigued.
It was indeed a bit different from the common goblins. Its skin was a more yellowish green, its nose was pointier, and its ears were larger.
Its large eyes were filled with terror at the mont, but when they darted about, they revealed a cunning rarely seen in goblins.
"You Goblin," Lynch said, his voice cold. "What are you doing here?"
"Sir, noble Sir!" The Goblin dropped to its knees with a THUD and explained rapidly, "My na is Ginko Wrench, and I’m a Goblin artisan. I was... I was working at a secret base nearby, building a ship for them!"
"Of course, I’m innocent! I was kidnapped! I found a chance and ran for it, but my luck is the worst. I ended up getting caught by this bunch of filthy, brainless goblins."
"Sir, I’m not with them! I can be useful to you! I can fix things, I can build things, I’m very useful!"
The Goblin desperately tried to prove its worth.
’A Goblin artisan?’
Lynch’s interest was piqued.
While Goblins also had a poor reputation, known for their greed and opportunism, their talent for engineering and chanics indeed far surpassed most other races.
’A Goblin artisan who can help build a ship might actually be quite valuable.’
"Tie him up for now and take him back with us," Lynch ordered the militian. "Watch him closely. Don’t let him escape."
"Yes, Sir!"
Hearing this, Ginko Wrench didn’t resist. Instead, he breathed a sigh of relief.
’As long as I don’t get turned into a Skeleton right away, I still have a chance.’
Lynch then turned his gaze to the young won. "Gather them in a clean area first. We’ll take them all back to the Fishing Port later. Then we’ll figure out how to contact their families, or the Fishing Port can house them temporarily."
’He wasn’t so kind of saint, but rescuing these innocents was a simple enough act. It would earn him prestige and gratitude in the Fishing Port and the surrounding villages, which would benefit his future operations there.’
While the captives were being dealt with, the operation to plunder supplies was already in full swing.
Squads of Skeletons sward through the camp.
So Skeleton squads ducked into the hovels and burrows that hadn’t been completely burned, carrying out anything that looked even remotely valuable and piling it in the central clearing.
Other Skeleton squads targeted the relatively intact timber on the camp’s structures. They dismantled the buildings outright, stripping away all the crude tal components in a manner that suggested they would scrape the very earth clean if they could.
Watching this feverish scene of pillaging, the corner of Lynch’s mouth couldn’t help but twitch.
’But on second thought, I’ve got plenty of Skeleton labor, so I might as well use it. Every little bit counts.’
’Once these materials are brought back to the Fishing Port, whether I use them myself or sell them, they’ll help cover so expenses.’
However, the scavenging process also led to a few incidents that were both frustrating and hilarious for Lynch.
For example, when a few Skeletons were working together to carry a heavy wooden chest, their lack of coordination caused the chest to fall apart midway, spilling pungent, fernted fish sauce all over the ground. Lynch and Sea Song, who were just passing by, were nearly knocked out by the stench.
For another example, one Skeleton, apparently thinking the Totem Pole in the center of the camp that symbolized the Chieftain’s authority was a valuable item, tried to pull it out of the ground to take with them. It used too much force and ended up snapping one of its own arm bones, leaving it standing there blankly, clutching the broken limb.
Sea Song, who was in Lynch’s arms, saw this and burst out laughing, covering her mouth and giggling.
Lynch couldn’t help but chuckle as well.
The one who gave Lynch the biggest headache, however, was the Fish Priest.
That rascal, along with its retinue of Skeleton Mages, was actually picking exclusively through the trash heaps.
Lynch was disgusted by the sight and quickly spurred Red Rabbit to move a few steps faster, carrying Sea Song back to the center of the camp.
’This busted goblin camp really isn’t worth inspecting.’
But he never expected that...
...not long after...
...the Fish Priest ca trotting up to Lynch, proudly carrying sothing on its shoulder as if presenting a treasure. The Soul Fire in its eye sockets danced with excitent.
Lynch looked down and was imdiately speechless.
It was carrying a filthy, black stone disk.
The disk appeared to be made of obsidian. It was covered in filth, chipped at the edges, and though it had so faint, distorted lines carved on it, it looked completely unremarkable overall.
It had no magical fluctuations, no artistic value, and no practical purpose whatsoever.
"This is what you brought ?" Lynch took a disgusted step back and chided, "Lil’ Fish, I know we’re short on cash, but that doesn’t an we have to take in any old piece of junk. You really need to work on this habit of yours of picking through trash."
The Fish Priest seed a little aggrieved.
It placed the disk on the ground and gestured at it with a series of CLACKS, then pointed to its own head, trying hard to express sothing.
Lynch sighed, unable to understand what it ant. He waved his hand dismissively. "Fine, if you really think it’s sothing good, you can have it..."
Before he could finish his sentence...
...an excited shout suddenly ca from the side. "Sir, please wait! Can you let take a closer look?"
Lynch looked over, confused.
He saw the bound Goblin staring intently at the black stone disk, his eyes burning with intensity.
Lynch pondered for a mont, then nodded. "Take a look."
A militiaman hauled the Goblin forward and threw him down in front of the black stone disk.
The Goblin paid no mind to the filth, leaning close to the disk to examine it ticulously. As he looked, he even pressed his nose against it, sniffing as if trying to identify sothing.
The more he examined it, the brighter his eyes beca, until finally, an expression of shock and ecstasy spread across his face. "Sir, this is no piece of junk! If I’m not mistaken, this is very likely the core component of a Magic Teleportation Device! And what’s more, it’s a high-tech creation from the ancient High Elves, or perhaps an even older civilization!"
"Look at these lines! They seem ssy, but they vaguely match the basic structure of spatial beacons and stabilization runes. It’s just that the wear is extrely severe and its energy is depleted, but it’s still an incredibly rare treasure!"
’Wait, what...?’
’The core of a Magic Teleportation Device? An ancient, high-tech creation?’
Lynch’s expression changed in an instant.
...
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