"Not bad at all."

Coulson looked happily at the Shield in his hand, which was now wreathed in a layer of flames. "Is this your Magic, Mage?"

"Yes, it’s a relatively Low Level Molding Magic." A Mage in a half-length Magic Robe lowered his Magic Staff and said, a little smugly.

"If I used this in a fight, I could just ram into an opponent to burn them." Coulson swung the Shield, having the time of his life.

"Hey, you two, come take a look." A one-eyed brute carrying a Great Sword called out from a distance.

The two dispelled the Magic and walked over. Coulson asked directly, "Grant, you haven’t found it yet?"

The one-eyed brute slammed his Great Sword into the ground with a *THUNK*. He then pulled out a map and said, "I’ve been looking for a while, and this should be the place. The map marks this goblin Hunting Ground, but there’s not even a whiff of goblin here."

Coulson took the map, compared it for a moment, and pointed to a circle on it. "This is it. We should be here already."

"But there’s nothing here," One-Eyed Grant complained.

They had just cleared out a goblin nest, cut off six ears, and rushed straight here after looting the spoils.

"Where’s Leo?" Coulson asked.

"Don’t know." Grant shrugged, then sat cross-legged on the ground and pulled a handful of nuts from his clothes. "Who knows where he’s off fooling around this time."

*TAP*. A dagger was placed on Grant’s right shoulder. Without turning his head, he tossed a chestnut behind him. The person behind him raised a hand and caught it.

Coulson tilted his head to look. A fat man in a dark gray tunic was standing behind Grant. His body from the waist down was submerged in Grant’s shadow—or rather, he seemed to have risen out of it.

"Find anything, Leo?" Coulson asked.

"No," Leo answered curtly. At the same time, he raised the dagger and slowly brought it close to Grant’s right ear.

Grant ignored the man’s actions behind him, simply continuing to eat his nuts.

Coulson watched the interaction between his two partners and shook his head. He turned to the Mage and said, "Sorry about this. Looks like we came up empty this time."

The Mage waved his hand. "It’s nothing, this happens all the time. But on the way here, I was wondering why we didn’t see any of the goblin Hunting Ground markers."

"You mean the skull markers?" Coulson asked.

"Yeah, I haven’t seen any of those things since we entered the Hunting Ground."

"You’re right, we really haven’t." Coulson glanced around, his view obscured by the tall trees. "Some other Adventurers probably did something rotten and pulled them all down."

Then he asked, "How about we head to the next Hunting Ground?"

The Mage shook his head and refused. "No, there isn’t enough time. The forest is very dangerous at night."

"Let’s go, it’s not that far," One-Eyed Grant suggested, looking up. The food in his mouth muffled his voice.

Leo, behind him, remained silent, still making motions near Grant’s right ear.

"If we go, we probably won’t make it out of the forest before nightfall. Plenty of people have died camping in the forest at night," the Mage insisted.

"Alright, let’s head back." Coulson nodded in agreement. "It’s just that we earned a little less this trip into the forest."

The Mage smiled and said, "No rush. We can come back tomorrow. The Storm Brotherhood won’t be here until winter."

"Oh, are you planning to join?" Coulson asked, surprised.

"Mhm, yes." The Mage straightened his Magic Robe. "I’m still just an apprentice. Joining them will help me become a full-fledged Mage faster."

"I hear a lot of people want to join." Coulson walked ahead, carrying his Shield. "We don’t want to. There’s no freedom in it."

The Mage followed, Magic Staff in hand. Behind him, One-Eyed Grant brushed the crumbs from his hands, stuffed the bag of nuts back into his pocket, then stood and drew his Great Sword, swinging it forward with a *WHOOSH*.

Hearing the sound from behind, the Mage immediately raised his Magic Staff to block, but he was a beat too slow. He was sent flying by the Horizontal Sweep.

The Mage immediately scrambled up from the ground, simultaneously chanting a Spell: "Elemental Spirit, I beseech you, attack them."

A Flaming Arrow shot straight at Grant, only to hit a Shield with a loud *CLANG*.

"Quick reflexes," Coulson said, shaking his Shield.

"You’re Reapers." The Mage stared intently at the two of them, the tip of his Magic Staff emitting a faint red glow.

"Don’t say it so harshly. We’re Adventurers," Coulson said with a smile, his head held high.

"Then why did you attack me?"

"Simple. Six ears aren’t enough to split four ways, but they’re enough for three."

"You..." The Mage was about to question him when he suddenly remembered there were three of them—there was still the Infiltrator. A sharp pain shot through his legs, and he realized Leo had already stabbed him through the thighs.

"Elemental Spirit..." Before the Mage could finish his Spell, Coulson sent him flying with a shield bash.

"Sigh, Molding Mages just aren’t as fast as Arcanists." Coulson walked up to the Mage and stomped him to the ground. "Sorry, but we need money too."

"If you need money, you can hunt goblins!" the Mage roared. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, and his body was like a pile of rags.

"True, we hunt goblins. But who says we can’t hunt Adventurers? Besides, we want to join the Storm Brotherhood too."

"You..." Before the Mage could finish, he coughed up a mouthful of blood. *BLECH*.

"We want to join. Being an Adventurer is so dangerous. How could it be as easy as being a nobleman’s dog?" Coulson retracted his foot and stood to the side. "Leo, he’s all yours."

Fat Leo rose from Coulson’s shadow, two daggers in his hands. "Ears."

"Let me introduce you again. My friend, Leo. His hobby is collecting ears." Coulson spread his hands, his tone casual. "Because he’s missing his own right ear."

Leo brushed back his hair. Underneath the medium-length locks, there was no right ear. From the looks of the scar, it seemed to have been sliced clean off at the root.

"No, don’t..." Before the Mage could get the words of mercy out, his right ear was flicked off with a *SLICE*, and then his throat was cut with another slash.

"See what he has on him. This Magic Staff is probably worth a lot. Grant, really, did you have to use so much force on that Horizontal Sweep?" Coulson complained.

But One-Eyed Grant just sat nearby, eating his nuts.

"Hmm, over 20 Gold Coins. Not bad." Coulson rummaged through the Mage’s pack. "And a Healing Potion. Let’s see what else there is."

"Footsteps," Leo warned.

Coulson stopped what he was doing and listened intently. Indeed, the messy sound of footsteps was approaching from the distance.

"They’re ahead! Kill them!" a shout came from the distance.

"Run! We’ve been discovered," Coulson decided instantly.

The three of them grabbed the pack and the Magic Staff and fled in a panic.

Less than half a minute later, a group of Green-skinned Goblins came running from the opposite direction.

* * *

At noon, Shire tossed a few Mushrooms into the large pot.

The effect of these Mushrooms was quite interesting. They stimulated the user’s nerves, refreshing their mind, restoring their strength, and greatly reducing fatigue.

Sure enough, after lunch, his dozen or so minions were a far cry from their usual selves. Each one was full of vigor.

Shire immediately decided to strike while the iron was hot, ordering them to continue hunting in the afternoon.

After some searching, they found a few Forest Deer.

But his dozen or so goblins chased after the deer until their tongues were hanging out and still couldn’t catch them. It made Shire so angry he started cursing in Common Speech.

Eventually, they ran to the former Hunting Ground of the Shire Race.

There, they discovered the Mage who had just recently died.

Shire patted him down, finding nothing but a quest sheet tucked in his clothes.

"Gathering Quest: Tender sprigs of Red Thorn, 10 silver coins per kilogram. Requester is Virdini, owner of the ’Drink Undying’ apothecary. Long-term, valid indefinitely. Drawing included."

"Does anyone know where to find this stuff?" Shire asked his minions.

One of his minions said he knew.

"Alright. No more hunting this afternoon. We’re going gathering."

Shire stood up and looked at the dead Mage. ’Honestly. For a dozen or so Gold Coins a month, why risk your life like this?’

He had his minions strip the Mage’s clothes, dig a pit, and bury him.

’Once we’re done gathering, I can give it to Little John tomorrow.’