From Goblin to God

Chapter 12: The Sword Saintess

The previously taunted townspeople sneered, “If you're so capable, why don’t you go slay the dragons yourself?”

“You…!" The red-haired knight clenched his fists but didn’t dare take up the challenge. No amount of pride could make him risk his life against dragons, especially those from Dragon Island.

Dragon Island lay several miles offshore, inhabited by dozens, possibly hundreds, of ferocious dragons. Rumor had it that an Elemental Dragon King—equivalent to a tier-six beast—had even appeared.

The tavern owner let out a heavy sigh. “Looks like Lighttowne is in real danger. We’ll need to call for help from the capital soon, or the dragons might start preying on people.” During their breeding season, dragons needed an immense amount of food—around 4,000 pounds daily. And Lighttowne, being the closest settlement to Dragon Island, was the apparent target.

Fear spread like wildfire among the townspeople.

“What?! Lighttowne’s going to be destroyed by dragons?!”

“I need to pack my things and leave!”

“Where do you think you can run? If Lighttowne falls, the other villages won’t be safe either!”

Panic filled the air, and the townspeople exchanged anxious glances. The tavern owner grumbled, “This wouldn’t have happened if the adventurers had dealt with the dragons earlier. Now they’re too many to control.”

Lowell finally spoke, his voice calm. “No need to worry. I’ve already sent a letter to my master, the Sword Saintess. She’ll take care of the dragons with ease. We won’t even need help from the capital.”

“What?!”

“No way! The legendary Sword Saintess is coming here?!”

“This is incredible! Not only will we see her, but we’ll witness her slaying dragons!”

The townspeople, once fearful, were now buzzing with excitement. Everyone knew the tales of the Sword Saintess—how she single-handedly swept through the empire’s demon-infested western forests and defeated the strongest knights of neighboring countries. And her beauty was said to be divine, with some even seeking her judgment to be near her.

Oliver stood up quietly and left the tavern. He couldn’t risk staying any longer; the Sword Saintess might recognize him. But he had learned enough. He would wait for the chaos of the dragon battle and strike at Lowell and his group when the time was right.

A month, he was passed swiftly. Oliver simulated the scenario multiple times—succeeding twice and failing once. Not because the Sword Saintess detected him but because a dragon killed him in the chaos. He knew he had to be present despite his successes to make it count.

As the dragon attack on Lighttowne approached, Oliver prepared for his ambush. By now, his second-generation goblins had matured, numbering seventy to eighty.

[Young Goblin: Lv11 | Species: Goblin | Occupation: None | Title: Elf Bloodline, Gifted | HP: 110 | Strength: 15 | Defense: 13 | Skill: Gene Devour | Equipment: None | Combat: 100]

Though basic, these second-generation goblins matched ordinary humans’ strength at level 10. They could become a formidable force with a potential level cap of 30. If Oliver could amass hundreds, perhaps thousands of them, they would be capable of seizing a human city. Future generations could be even stronger.

But Oliver wasn’t sure if this strategy would work. He left the second-generation goblins behind, bringing only the fully armed first-generation goblins to Lighttowne. He wouldn’t mind if they died, nor did he expect them to return. This was a test of survival, even though these goblins had once fought by his side. After all, goblins were expendable.

With nearly a hundred armed first-generation goblins, Oliver set out for Lighttowne.

Lighttowne was already preparing for the arrival of the Sword Saintess. Her impending visit sparked a three-day celebration. Inside the grand church, a tall woman clad in radiant gold-and-white armor stood silently praying. She towered at 5 feet 8, her long, golden hair flowing gracefully down her back, and the sword at her waist exuded a commanding presence. The white cloak trimmed with gold added an aura of divinity to her form.

Lowell approached cautiously. “Master, several dragons have been spotted circling near the town. Without livestock to feed on, I doubt they’ll wait much longer before attacking.”

Despite being a royal, even Lowell showed humility before the Sword Saintess. He knew better than to let arrogance slip through in front of such a mighty warrior.

“I understand,” the Sword Saintess said, turning with a deliberate grace. “Prepare the dragon-hunting ballistae. If you don’t, none of you will be useful, which will disgrace me.”

Her words sent a chill through Lowell. For a moment, his heart skipped a beat. Her face was breathtaking, each feature sculpted to perfection. Her lips, glossy and full, looked as though they could release water. Yet her eyes remained covered by a delicate white silk cloth, adding a mysterious allure that made her seem almost unreachable.

Despite the blindfold, she moved with precision, stepping confidently outside.

The men of the town had gathered around the church, craning their necks for a glimpse of her.

“Is that truly the Sword Saintess? She’s so regal, so beautiful!”

“That aura of holiness—nothing like what the nuns have!”

“She’s the embodiment of strength and beauty. What kind of man could ever win her?”

“Don’t even think about it! Even our Lionheart King wouldn’t dare pursue her!”

As she passed, the crowd instinctively parted. Her sheer presence, laced with an imposing sword energy, set her apart. Without breaking stride, she commanded: “Gather as much wood as you can. By the end of the day, I expect you to have built ten dragon-hunting ballistae.”

“Y-Yes!” The townspeople scrambled, eager to avoid showing any sign of laziness. They knew no effort would earn her approval—her veil was proof enough that she didn’t deem the world worthy of her gaze. Only a man who could genuinely conquer her heart would be.

Within half a day, the wood was gathered. Following the detailed blueprints provided by the Sword Saintess, the townspeople crafted ten dragon-hunting ballistae before nightfall. These colossal weapons were strategically placed on the town’s highest points. Each one required a wooden cart for movement and took the combined strength of more than a dozen men to operate. They were formidable dragon-slaying machines standing 30 feet tall and launching bolts over 6 feet long.