2: Chapter 2 Harvest and Caravans

Two bodies collided, rolling on the gravel ground.

The Kobold's claws were sharp, tearing through the coarse cloth on Richard's shoulder and leaving several bloody scratches on his skin.

Richard winced in pain, pressing his left hand against the Kobold's wrist joint while reaching for the pickaxe with his right.

The Kobold was quite strong and struggled frantically, but Richard's strength was at least better than an ordinary person's, and he soon gained the upper hand.

He pinned the Kobold's abdomen with his knee, finally snatched the pickaxe from its grasp, and struck down without hesitation.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The first blow missed the Kobold's head as it dodged, landing only on its shoulder with a crisp sound of cracking bone.

The Kobold screamed and fell backward. Richard followed up, striking its chest with the second blow and its head with the third.

The screaming finally stopped...

Richard panted, climbing up from beside the corpse. The scratch on his arm was still seeping blood, and his whole body was trembling.

In his past life, he hadn't even killed a chicken, yet on his first day after transmigrating, he had already dispatched two Kobolds. He felt his stomach churning and a bit nauseous.

"Deep breaths, stay calm, you did great! It was just two measly mobs," he kept reassuring himself.

"I must survive! I must live on!!!"

After a while, his racing heart finally began to calm down.

He crouched down and quickly looted the corpses, thinking he couldn't let this trip be in vain.

There didn't seem to be anything valuable on the Kobolds; two candles were picked up from the ground, followed by two leather pouches.

The pickaxe was stained with blood, but it felt much more reliable to hold than a wooden spear, so he took it.

He didn't check the Adventurer's Log, although he sensed the parchment scroll vibrating deep in his mind, likely indicating new information.

But now wasn't the time to check the interface; he needed to slip away, quickly.

From deep within the mine tunnel in the distance, a faint rustling sound emerged, as if something else was approaching.

Richard shouldered the pickaxe, hung the two leather pouches at his waist, and ran up along the tunnel without looking back.

He walked along the rock wall, stopping at every turn to listen for any movement, only continuing once he confirmed there were no chattering sounds ahead.

Twice he heard the sounds of Kobolds in the distance, but they were at least two tunnels away, so he chose to detour.

The tunnel sloped upward, the air becoming fresher. At the end was a crooked wooden door, half-open, with blinding sunlight streaming in from outside.

Richard scrambled out, almost rolling as he went.

"Ahhhhh! The scent of freedom! Freedom!!!" Richard knelt on the ground, almost crying.

Outside was the dense Black Forest, sunlight filtering through the canopy and shining on his dirty face.

Richard took a deep breath of the pine-scented air, gasping heavily.

He found a tree root to sit on, caught his breath, and then opened the two leather pouches looted from the Kobolds.

The first pouch contained some dusty ore fragments and a few shriveled mushrooms that smelled like foot odor.

The second pouch also had ore and mushrooms, but the texture at the bottom of the pouch felt different.

Richard reached in, his fingertips touching a heavy, unevenly surfaced piece of ore.

He took it out and examined it carefully.

Under the sunlight, the golden ore reflected a soft, lustrous sheen. Its shape resembled a curled-up small animal, and its texture was so dense it didn't look like natural ore.

Richard's hands began to tremble slightly.

"Could it be... am I actually going to strike it rich?!" He licked his dry lips.

Then, Richard immediately cast [Appraisal] on the ore.

The adventure scroll slowly unfurled, and a message appeared:

Item: Gold Nugget (Natural Gold Nugget)

Purity: Approx. 92% natural gold, containing trace amounts of quartz and silver.

Weight: 512 grams.

Evaluation: A fairly rare gold nugget, suitable for collection.

Richard almost let out a pig-like snort of laughter: Hehe, the first pot of gold for my fortune is in hand!

In the original owner's memories, one copper coin could buy a black bread, and one silver coin could pay for a night at a small inn (one gold coin equals ten silver coins, equivalent to one hundred copper coins).

He turned the gold nugget over and over three times, then scrambled to wrap it tightly in a piece of coarse cloth torn from the hem of his garment.

A gold nugget dug up by Kobolds—this was the only pleasant thing that had ever happened in that dilapidated mine.

Richard then stuffed the bundle into the innermost layer of his clothes, picked up the pickaxe, and oriented himself.

Blackwater City was to the west of these hills. Following the abandoned trail outside the mine, it would take about half a day's journey.

He remembered from his memories that there was a fork in the road leading to the main road. If he was lucky, he might run into merchants or travelers heading to Blackwater City.

Richard walked for about half a day when the sound of cart tracks and the neighing of mules and horses reached him from ahead.

He slowed his pace and cautiously peered through the bushes.

Approaching was a small caravan: three covered wagons, a dozen or so people, seven or eight mules and horses. The lead wagon bore a small flag with a blue background embroidered with an anchor pattern.

The guards wore a motley assortment of armor; some carried spears, some wore swords, and others carried bows and arrows on their backs.

The leading merchant was a middle-aged fat man in his forties, riding a gray horse, looking quite amiable.

Richard hesitated for a moment, then stepped out of the woods with his hands raised to show no malice, avoiding any misunderstandings.

Several guards immediately swept their gazes over him, their hands resting on their weapons.

The fat merchant reined in his horse and looked him up and down—his ragged clothes, the worn-out pickaxe in his hand, and his grime-covered appearance.

"Young man, you don't look like you're out for a stroll by the roadside. What happened?" the merchant asked.

Richard cleared his throat, trying not to sound too raspy: "My name is Richard Baimon, from the Blackwater City Adventurers Guild. I am an adventurer."

"The commission I accepted from the guild went wrong. We were almost wiped out in that abandoned mine to the north. I am the only one who survived..." Richard told the truth.

The fat merchant was silent for a few seconds, sighed, then nodded: "My name is William. You can follow behind the caravan. Blackwater City is still half a day's journey away, and it's not safe for you to travel alone."

Richard breathed a sigh of relief. It was good luck to meet a kind-hearted merchant willing to give him a ride on the road.

The caravan continued forward, Richard walking beside the last covered wagon, shoulder to shoulder with a bearded guard.

The guard even handed him a waterskin, which Richard took and quickly drank several large gulps from.

They walked for about half an hour.

Richard noticed the Old Hunter walking at the very front suddenly rein in his horse.

The Old Hunter had graying hair and deep-set eyes, but those eyes were as sharp as an eagle's. His back was straight, and a recurve bow was slung at his waist.

He tilted his head, turning his ear toward the depths of the forest, and listened motionlessly for a long time.

Then he raised his right hand, and the caravan immediately came to a halt.

"Something's wrong. It's too quiet," the Old Hunter said in a low voice.

The voice wasn't loud, but everyone could hear it: "The birds have stopped singing. Get ready, there's a situation."