From Goblin to God

Chapter 11: Encountering Lowell and the other Adventurers

Oliver, clad in finely crafted iron armor and wielding a refined short sword, felt his strength surge. His defense and attack power now rivaled weapons forged by the finest human blacksmiths, making it easy to defeat ordinary monsters.

Not long after leaving the enchanted forest, he spotted a small village in the distance, smoke curling from its chimneys. Farmers worked diligently in the surrounding fields. With the system’s guidance, Oliver knew Lowell and his group were in Lighttowne. He approached one of the farmers to ask for directions.

As he neared, the farmer finally noticed him.

“Grandpa, don’t worry. I’m a human adventurer. Can you tell me how to get to Lighttowne?" Oliver asked.

“Go away! I don’t know, and if you don’t leave, I won’t be polite!” the farmer snapped.

Startled by Oliver’s strange appearance and his arrival from the enchanted forest, the farmer’s suspicion grew. He raised his sickle, preparing to defend himself.

Killing intent flickered in Oliver’s eyes. “I’m just asking for directions. Relax…”

But the farmer remained frightened. “I said, leave!”

Shing!

In an instant, Oliver’s sword pierced the farmer’s mouth, blood splattering. His expression darkened. “All I wanted were directions.

Was it necessary to overreact? Looks like you deserved this.”

But it was already too late. The commotion had drawn attention. Villagers returning home from the fields saw the scene and shouted for help. Within moments, a dozen strong men armed with farming tools appeared, their faces grim with intent to fight.

Hardened by living near the enchanted forest, these villagers were not easily intimidated.

[Eric: Lv11 | Species: Human | Occupation: Farmer | Title: None | Strength: 23 | Defense: 14 | HP: 101 | Skills: None | Equipment: Hoe | Combat: 100]

Humans were naturally more muscular than goblins, but they did not match Oliver. He effortlessly slaughtered them and wiped out the entire village. Under duress, the last survivor revealed Lighttowne’s location. In hindsight, Oliver realized he should have threatened them first rather than wasting time with polite inquiries.

For Oliver, humans were now no different from the monsters and beasts he fought. Killing them stirred no emotion.

After a day’s travel, he finally saw the lights of Lighttowne shining under the night sky. The settlement was more significant than expected, home to two or three hundred households, with fortified walls that made it resemble a small city.

Entering the town at night would risk exposure, so he blended in with the morning crowd. As anticipated, even though the guards conducted checks, they overlooked him, thanks to his stealth buff, which worked best in large crowds.

Once inside, Oliver found the town bustling with life. Smiling people strolled the streets, and the abundance of vendors created a lively atmosphere.

“I can’t believe people live so comfortably in this world,” Oliver thought, incredulous. He had barely survived the enchanted forest, constantly on edge, yet people had spare money to buy snacks and entertain themselves here.

When he reached a small square, everything made sense.

[Lighttowne Adventurer Team Rankings:

1st - Platinum Level: Blade Brave Squad

2nd - Silver Level: Gale Brave Squad

3rd - Silver Level: Savior Brave Squad

4th - Bronze Level: Poskaya Brave Squad]

This was the ranking of adventurer teams in the human world. To his surprise, Lowell and his despicable group had reached Platinum level. They must have grown much stronger recently.

“Hmph, so what? I’m more than ready. Even if the Sword Saintess herself shows up, she won’t escape me!” Oliver thought coldly as he continued scouting the town.

He wasn’t wandering; he was surveying the terrain, estimating the population, counting soldiers, and assessing defensive facilities. He even studied the underground drainage system, ensuring he had every detail about the town.

By nightfall, he had learned everything he needed. A familiar, loathsome voice caught his attention as he passed by a tavern.

“Hahaha! Drink up! These days, we’re drinking like it’s the last day of our lives!”

It was Lowell.

Oliver entered the tavern to confirm. The place was packed, which worked in his favor. He found a corner, scanned the crowd, and finally spotted Lowell and his group sitting around a table in the tavern’s center.

The group gathered as usual: Lowell, the white-robed nun, the red-haired knight, and the silver-shielded warrior.

Lowell took a hearty swig from his drink, grinning. “You have no idea what it was like facing that four-armed demon ape. One punch almost killed me! Thank the gods for Yvrea’s holy skill, ‘Foresee Death.’ That’s why having a healer on the team is crucial.”

The four-armed demon ape was a formidable tier-four monster, around level 40. Hearing Lowell’s tale, the group erupted in cheers.

"Yvrea, you’re amazing! No wonder you came from the Holy Church and mastered the legendary Foresee Death!"

“So jealous! Having a healer is great, but having a stunning healer like Yvrea? Even better!”

“Keep dreaming! You’d be lucky to catch a whiff of her perfume!”

“Watch your mouth! You can’t just talk like that about a goddess!”

Yvrea basked in their praise; her nose lifted high. “It’s all thanks to Lowell, though. I wouldn’t have stood a chance against the demon ape alone.”

The red-haired knight and the silver-shielded warrior exchanged glances before chiming in, “Oh, so it’s just about your man? What about the two of us? Didn’t we help?”

“Fine, fine, you’re both great too!” Yvrea teased, throwing a flirtatious glance at Lowell. Their relationship was clear without any need for explanation.

A nearby townspeople, smirking, joined in, “You’re strong, sure, but let’s not forget, Lowell is royalty from the Lionheart Empire! And a disciple of the Sword Saintess to boot!”

That’s why the Sword Saintess had taken him as a disciple—royalty wasn’t something you could easily defy, no matter the strength.

Oliver’s expression hardened. He hadn’t expected Lowell to have such a background. But even if Lowell were the emperor of the Lionheart Empire, it wouldn’t change a thing. He would still die.

Annoyed by the villager’s words, the red-haired knight snapped, “What is it to you if our leader’s royalty? Mind your own business and shut up!”

The argument quickly escalated.

“Enough!” The tavern owner cut in, his voice heavy as he wiped a glass at the bar. “Lately, dragons from Dragon Island have entered their breeding season. They’ve been snatching livestock—cows, sheep, horses—from the herders, and now no one dares let their animals out to graze. Do adventurers think you’re tough? Why don’t you go slay a dragon?”

Dragon slaying—the dream of every adventurer—but dragons weren’t to be taken lightly.

A fully grown dragon was at least level 50, capable of flight, and possessed tremendous health and devastating attacks. Anyone below the diamond rank attempting such a feat would be walking to death.