What is an offensive priest?

Chapter 15 Counterattack!

Outside the church shrine.

The setting sun cast a sickly, dim yellow light through the lingering smog over the town.

The charred beams were still emitting wisps of smoke, and the wind whistled mournfully as it passed through the gap in the wall, like the wounded breaths of this small town.

The three members of the adventure team stood at the foot of the stone steps in front of the temple, silently gazing at the scene before them.

The thief Maurice leaned against a half-collapsed pillar with his arms crossed, his amber eyes sweeping over the weeping women, the busy guards, and the corpses covered in white sheets.

His face was expressionless, as if he were a spectator sitting in the audience.

"That cunning devil is still at large; we don't have time to worry about these trivial matters!"

It's nothing!

The thief's words angered the paladin who always put family honor first.

Kro turned around abruptly, his silver armor screeching as he did so.

"Do you think it's a trivial matter that the town's children were kidnapped by goblins, their homes were burned and destroyed, and their warriors bled and died?"

"In the name of Sterme, you are truly unworthy of the adventurer's badge on your chest!"

Kro roared at his rogue teammates like a raging lion.

The drow mage Avir, standing to the side, did not attempt to mediate the conflict between his teammates, but simply left a comment.

"I believe Your Excellency Richard needs our help!"

The thief Maurice's lips were pressed into a stiff line, and his fingers unconsciously rubbed the dagger at his waist.

After a few breaths, he slowly exhaled.

"Whatever you want..."

It was impossible to tell from his voice whether he was compromising or giving up.

creak-

The church's heavy oak doors were pushed open.

Richard appeared at the doorway.

After using his healing spell to heal the wounded guard, he quietly left the church.

His face showed obvious signs of fatigue, but his eyes remained clear, filled with an unprecedented determination.

Richard was taken aback when he saw the three members of the adventure team waiting outside, and then an apologetic look appeared on his face.

"I'm sorry, I probably can't help you with the mission to pursue Campion."

He looked towards the east side of the town, towards the Howling Mountains, the area where the goblin tribes were located.

"I have more important things to do now!"

Clooney turned to face Richard.

Although the Steme family crest engraved on his breastplate had become blurred during the battle, the family's knightly will was perfectly embodied in him.

"If you mean going to the goblin camp alone to rescue people, then I cannot agree."

Avel also stepped forward, staff in hand, and stood beside Kro, speaking with a firm tone.

"I think you need a superb mage to assist you remotely!"

Richard stared at the two of them, momentarily stunned.

His gaze shifted from the two men's resolute eyes to Maurice, the thief who remained leaning against the pillar, expressionless.

A smile suddenly appeared on his face.

"Actually, you didn't need to do that."

Kro clenched his fist and gently punched Richard's chainmail chest with his right hand, which was covered by an iron glove.

"Whether they are goblins or demons from the hell of Bathor, as long as it's a mission, our Goddess's Lament Adventure Team will not refuse."

"I've already heard the cries of despair from this town...!"

"Lord Richard, please allow the Goddess's Lament Adventure Team to fight alongside you."

Seeing their resolute attitude, Richard didn't feign any more politeness. He simply nodded slowly, his eyes gradually sharpening.

"good!"

"Let's go and smash those bastards to pieces!"

After they left, the doors of the church shrine reopened.

Sister Sharon stood in the doorway, clutching a sun emblem tightly in her hand, her deep blue eyes fixed on the retreating figure, silently praying in her heart.

-

On the eastern foothills of the Howling Mountains, at the edge of the Poison Moss Swamp.

The air here is perpetually filled with a bloody, rotten stench.

Goblin Camp.

The outer walls of the outer outpost were made of rough granite fragments and swamp hardwood.

The wall was only ten feet high, but the top was covered with sharpened bone spikes, mostly deer and wild boar bones, but a few clearly belonged to humanoid creatures.

Several sentinel goblins are patrolling.

These green-skinned monsters wore cloth armor pieced together from animal hides and scraps of cloth, and held crudely made short spears in their hands.

Even more eye-catching are the two dire wolves at the base of the wall.

These monsters, twice the size of ordinary wolves, are almost as tall as an adult's chest at the shoulder.

Their fur is a sickly grayish-brown, and their skin is covered with scabies and pustules.

At this moment, two dire wolves are tearing apart a half-rotten carcass.

Judging from the remaining fragments of clothing, he was probably a lost adventurer.

A war drum stood nearby, its drumhead made of ogre hide, which only ogres could fit in.

Beside the drum leaned a drumstick made from a human femur, its head covered with dried, hardened remnants of flesh and blood.

When enemies invade, the sentinel goblin will beat the war drum to notify the goblins inside to provide support.

Inside the goblin camp.

Two enormous statues of the Moon Goddess stand outside the gate; this place was once a temple built by the followers of Serene.

However, due to the struggle between Serene and the goddess of night, Shar, the power of Serene's followers weakened, and they have now been occupied and desecrated by goblins.

Unlike the deathly silence of the swamp outside, the hall was filled with a chilling noise.

More than fifty goblins gathered here, banging out jarring rhythms with crude bone instruments while roaring war songs in goblin language.

"Glash! Mog! Blood and flesh!"

"Tearing apart, gnawing, mountains of skulls!"

"Give me strength, Most Holy God!"

"Offer humanity's offspring to the abyss!"

The lyrics were crude and the melody chaotic, but all the goblins were immersed in this frenzied atmosphere.

A huge iron cage hung high above, imprisoning the children who had been kidnapped from Blackrock Town.

Below the cage, four gnolls were on guard.

Looking at the hideous and disgusting monster below, the children huddled together, burying their faces in their hands and crying.

"Listen, what a beautiful and moving sound!"

"I really want to try their food; it must be incredibly fresh and tender!"

A goblin looked up at its prey in the cage, greedily inhaling the scent wafting from the cage, drool dripping from its mouth.

It didn't finish its sentence.

A pair of enormous, dark purple hands, resembling those of a mage, suddenly appeared out of thin air from the side!

He grabbed the goblin by the thick neck and lifted him up sharply!

The owner of the hand slowly emerged from the shadows deep within the hall.

That was a goblin priest.

It was smaller and thinner than a normal goblin, less than four feet tall, but it was not covered in rags, but in a robe sewn together from human skin.

The goblin priest held a spinal staff in his hand, his cold, sharp eyes fixed on it, and warned in a stern voice.

"Stop drooling! You look like a stupid tick!"

"No one is allowed to touch them before the True Soul Master arrives."

"If anyone dares to disobey the command of the Most Supreme God, I will rip your tongue out and stuff it into your unfaithful asshole!"

Faced with the threat of the goblin priest, the goblin nodded repeatedly, no longer daring to harbor any evil thoughts.

Just then.

A heavy, muffled drumbeat rang out from the outer gate, immediately alarming all the goblins in the camp.

"Enemy attack—!"

A goblin sentinel stumbled and crawled into the temple, his ugly, filthy face filled with terror.

"Outside! Humans have invaded!"

"What?!" The most burly of the bear goblins grabbed the sentry by the neck. "How many of them are there?"

"Just... just four!"

Outside the goblin camp's outpost.

An adventure team suddenly appeared, attacking openly without any sneak attack.

Richard smashed the head of a goblin that was trying to escape with a single iron fist, signaling the start of the war!