Deadmeat Saga

Chapter 46 – When it rains, it pours. Chosen One?!



Chapter 46 – When it rains, it pours. Chosen One?!

Upon returning to the village, Gerhart and his group noticed a tense atmosphere with the gates closed and barred.

"Hey! Open up!" Hauke yelled to the watchtower, where Albatia was guarding.

"Captain! Open the gate!" Albatia called.

On the other side, someone moved a wooden board and opened the gate, and a solemn-looking Kerry revealed herself.

"Kerry! What is going on?" Gerhart asked.

"Gerhart, the village is on high alert. Wolfgang just returned with his group sporting varying wounds, having fought a goblin warband. Everyone is now on high alert and in the village center." Kerry explained.

Gerhart's group looked at each other with dark expressions. The situation was worse than they thought.

"We also encountered a warband, but we killed them." Gerhart briefly said. "I'll go meet Asher."

"Okay." Kerry nodded and let them through.

Without further delay, Gerhart quickly strode to the center of the village, where he saw a crowd of over a hundred gathering.

"Everyone! Please move!" Gerhart called.

The villagers turned around and saw it was Gerhart and the hunters, evidently after a battle, so they moved aside, revealing Asher, Thomas, Elder Hannes, Lars, and Wolfgang gathered around a bell post.

"Everyone! The signs of a Goblin Mega Tribe have shown themselves. We must form a beheading operation and kill the Goblin Commander before it is too late!" Asher called out.

"Anyone who wants to volunteer, step forward," Thomas called out.

"Hah? Hey, it's Hauke and his team!" Lars noticed Hauke, Gerhart, and their team coming over.

"Everyone! Things are not as simple as you think!" Hauke yelled.

"The Mega Tribe is likely not led by a Goblin Commander, but by a Goblin Lord!" Gerhart called.

Everyone's expressions immediately darkened, many showing signs of fear.

"Goblin Lord?"

"Is he serious?"

"This is bad..."

"Our village might not survive this..."

"Hold up a minute! How do you know it is a Goblin Lord?" Thomas frowned and questioned.

"A Goblin Lord didn't show itself for a dozen generations. It isn't something to casually say." Lars also frowned.

"Do you have any proof to support your claim?" Elder Hannes questioned. "If you do, we could summon the border guard and adventurer's guild to help us."

They were not giving Gerhart a hard time, but his claim was not as simple as a Mega Tribe. Goblin Lords commanding Goblin Hordes are natural disasters, like wildfires and earthquakes, able to wipe out entire towns and threaten cities. Falsely telling others such information was considered Sedition, which was one step from being Treason.

That they didn't accuse Gerhart of Sedition was already showing a great deal of trust.

"I don't have concrete evidence, but we faced another warband and captured this wolf. I tamed it, and it told me there was a goblin two heads taller than me." Gerhart explained while showing the white Dire Wolf.

"The wolf told you?" Thomas's expression changed. "I don't want to believe your claim, but it might be true."

"There isn't enough evidence. We would have to send for an investigation team to confirm it before sending help." Elder Hannes shook his head. 

"If there is a Goblin Lord, forget about that. Goblin Commanders are already cunning, so imagine a Goblin Lord. I wouldn't be surprised if it built up its forces for over a year, and those warbands are merely slave cannon fodder to test the waters or bait us. Heck, maybe they already control the mud road leading to the nearby to—"

"Open the gate! Open the gate!"

Before Lars could finish speaking, everyone heard a distant shout and turned around.

Kerry hurriedly opened the village gates as a pale-looking armored man galloped to the village center on horseback. Gerhart recognized him as one of the caravan guards.

"Goblins attacked! Goblins attacked- Pfft*..." The rider hurriedly yelled, winced, spat blood, and collapsed, an arrow in his back.

At the same time, the horse, which also received two arrows, frothed at the mouth and collapsed to the other side. Gerhart analyzed it and realized it was dead from a heart attack.

Some villagers hurriedly ran to help the man while Gerhart looked at his status and couldn't help but frown.

Status: Blood Loss(Heavy), Infected Wound(Severe), Punctured Lung(Minor), Exhausted, Coma, Dying(Approximately thirty minutes to live).

"Did he yell goblins?" Lars's expression darkened.

"He did." Wolfgang scowled.

"He likely rode all the way here after an ambush." Thomas grimaced as he walked to the rider.

"Seems like it really might be a Goblin Lord." Elder Hannes frowned.

"A regular Goblin Commander wouldn't do this," Asher said.

The villagers looked at each other in dismay, one running to fetch Jull from the infirmary.

"Gerhart, things are looking pretty bad," Hope whispered.

"Yes. I am starting to suspect the Goblin Lord was deliberately hiding his forces." Gerhart frowned and looked at the wolf. "Except for the strongest goblin, do you know how many goblins are in your home?"

"Wrr... Woof! Woof! Woof! Woof!" [Let me think... Two dozen taller than master by up to a head, three hundred like the Pack Leader you killed, and over a thousand Goblin Slaves. Yes! Definately!] The female Dire Wolf said with certainty.

The color slowly drained from Gerhart's face. "... Where is your home again?"

"Woof! Woof! Bark! Bark!" [In the high mana concentration area, where scary monsters dwell! We can live there because the Alpha pair repels them! They listen to the strongest goblin!]

"FUCK! No wonder the hunters never discovered them! Turns out they made their base in the Deep Forest!" Gerhart grimly thought. "They might have been there for years now! And now, after waiting for enough time, they are finally revealing the butcher's knife!" Gerhart shook. "And she said there is also an Alpha pair. Doesn't that mean they are potentially A-grade!?"

They had three A-rank powerhouses, two dozen B-rank generals, hundreds of C and D-rank ground troops, and over a thousand E and F-rank goblin cannon fodder, all ferocious and with little regard for their lives.

Meanwhile, their village had several untrained guests, two retired B-grade professionals, a few dozen C-grade hunters(Half are retired), several hundred D-rank adults who are not professional soldiers, and another 300-odd elderly, children, and pregnant women.

Overall, the odds were clear. Without Gerhart's help, everyone would die.

"Me and my shit luck. When it rains, it pours." Gerhart wanted to cry.

All his carefully laid-out plans came to naught in an instant. His first base of operations will be gone in a green tide of violence and rape. The only chance of survival was for him to reveal his powers early. However, that meant he would be taking a significant risk!

If somehow told the outside world about this-

"I might face the prosecution of the kingdoms and even the temples! S-rank inquisitors will chase me to the ends of the world!" Gerhart shuddered.

"Gerhart? What happened?" Hope asked.

"It's like this..."

Gerhart roughly told her the situation. Surprisingly, Hope didn't despair at the dire news but was instead happy!

"Gerhart! It is our opportunity! A rare opportunity that won't show itself again!" Hope shook in excitement, clenching her pawed hands, fanaticism in her pink eyes.

"Opportunity?" Gerhart widened his eyes in incomprehension.

"Yes, Gerhart. Look at them!" Hope turned Gerhart to look at the crowd.

Gerhart looked at the villagers and saw fear, panic, and uncertainty written on their faces.

"They are now fearful, uncertain, and desperate for salvation! It is the time to strike! Show them miracles, and the crowd will follow!" Hope expressed.

"You mean... To show them my powers so they will willingly submit?" Gerhart asked, feeling a bit doubtful.

Be it in his previous or current life, he was no charlatan. The only thing he did was hide and hide, waiting patiently like a hunter for a decade. It never occupied his mind on how to steer a crowd, especially as a slave.

"But what if they all don't follow?" Gerhart warily asked.

"You don't need to worry about that! Once you control most of them, the rest will follow. Even if they resist, they will submit by the sword." Hope explained and pointed at the dying caravan guard, now tended by Jull. "See this guard? He is a heaven-sent opportunity! Use it! Turn this crisis into an opportunity!"

Gerhart silently looked at the guard for ten seconds before asking, "How certain are you it would work."

"A hundred percent. Just convert and heal the guard, and I will handle the rest." Hope reassured.

Gerhart closed his eyes, breathed in deeply, exhaled, and opened his eyes, a silver glint in them as he walked to the caravan guard.

"How is he, Jull?" Asher worriedly asked.

"I am afraid he doesn't have long. The arrow penetrated his lung, and the wound has signs of necrosis. He also lost a lot of blood, and the continued riding worsened his condition. I fear he has less than an hour to live." Jull said after a detailed examination.

"Me and my big mouth..." Lars cursed.

"Congrats, Lars. You jinxed us all." Elder Hannes joked to lighten the mood.

"Well, sorry about that!" Lars snapped, but he indeed turned less tense.

Wolfgang remained silent, not knowing what to do.

"Shit..." Thomas clenched his remaining hand and looked at the villagers.

As a mercenary leader, he led soldiers to battle and knew the villagers' morale was at rock bottom. And he didn't blame them. He also knew that things had gone to shit. Before anyone investigated their village because of loss of contact, they would likely get wiped.

"I am afraid we face certain doom." Thomas shook. "The guests are still too weak to fight a Goblin Lord and his army. Our only chance of survival is to abandon the weak as bait and take the stronger villagers to fight until we reach the town and seek help. No. The goblins would sense it and send their elites against us in unfavorable terrain."

The more he thought about it, the gloomier he became. Tactically speaking, the sound choice would be surrender at this point. But surrendering to Goblins only had one dark outcome he didn't want.

"Unless a miracle happens... I, my lovers, my children, and my friends. We will all die, or worse." Thomas closed his eyes, feeling helpless against cruel reality.

Just then, he heard an unlikely voice.

"I can heal him." Gerhart walked over and said.

"Hah?" The mercenary who fought many battles looked at Gerhart, confused.

"Gerhart? What did you say?" Lars raised an eyebrow. "I thought I heard something crazy. Mind repeating that?"

"I said I can heal him," Gerhart stated, approaching the fallen caravan guard and knelt.

"Gerhart, this is no time for jokes!" Lars snapped. "Do you think you are the chosen of god? A Saint? A high priest? Look at him! He is dying!"

Healing magic was exclusive to the temples or shamans communicating with spirits. It wasn't because people couldn't use them themselves, but because of how complicated it was! Even with Magic and Affinity, without the guiding hand of a divine being, attempting to heal others could result in a disaster.

"If I don't heal him, he will die anyway. Is there anything to lose?" Gerhart asked.

"Lars, I think you should give him a chance," Asher spoke.

Lars turned silent and gave Gerhart a stern look. "One chance. Don't fuck this up."

The villagers began to murmur as they closely watched Gerhart, voicing their doubts. However, since Asher spoke, they didn't complain.

"Good thing I converted Asher." Gerhart thought as he touched the caravan guard.

Usually, he dominated the target before converting since it was far more effortless and cheaper in points. But now, the guard was dying and held no resistance.

"Become my Thrall." Gerhart's eyes shined silver.

The conversion lasted for only ten seconds.

Denzel Olsen has converted successfully.

Immediately after, Gerhart began healing the dying man.

Under everyone's astonished eyes, color visibly returned to the man's face, and the arrow on his back expelled out, the wound closing and returning to flawless skin.

There were no flashy lights or holy chanting. The man returned to his prime as if time rewinded. In less than a minute, it was over.

"W-What?!" Lars's mouth gapped.

"Impossible..." Elder Hannes was also astonished.

"Did the gods hear me?" Thomas wondered.

"He... Healed him? That dying man? Maybe he can also..." Wolfgang had other thoughts, a ray of yearning in his eyes.

Everyone else looked over as if seeing the miracle of god.

"It is done," Gerhart said and stood up.

While everyone was astonished, Hope walked over and yelled to the guard. "Caravan Guard! Stand up!"

The now-healed caravan guard twitched, wincing as he slowly got up and looked around in confusion.

"Eh? I thought I was going to die..." Denzen thought in a daze. "Right... A holy voice calling out to me, saving me from darkness. It was..."

He then looked up and saw his savior, surrounded by divine splendor(Self Illusion).

"My Lord." The caravan guard lowered his head to Gerhart in front of everyone present.

This shocking statement was beyond everyone's comprehension.

"My lord?"

"Did he just call him lord?"

"What?"

"I think the guy hit his head?" Lars raised an eyebrow.

"Perhaps he is hallucinating?" Elder Hannes glanced at Gerhart, finding nothing noble about him.

"Caravan guard! What is your name?" Hope questioned, ignoring everyone.

"Denzel, Holy Envoy." Denzel instinctively and respectfully responded, making everyone else even more shocked.

Hope continued ignoring them, motioning to Denzel. "Do you see, everyone? Denzel here has gained a second chance in life thanks to the blessings of the Chosen One, Our Lord!"

"Chosen One?!" Gerhart mentally retorted while maintaining a poker face.

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