Chapter 13

Here is the English translation of the novel passage following your provided glossary terms:

—

Episode 13

Iron-Tier Adventurer Hassan

Kishit, kishit!

“Goblins are coming this way! My brethren, what should we do?!”

Goblins.

According to the legends of this world, the gods shaped humanity from strange, clay-like material, carelessly flicking the leftover mud from their hands onto the ground.

That fallen mud mingled with the cold remnants of the earth and all sorts of lingering emotions, giving birth to beasts and monsters. And among them, if one were to name the most hideous of creatures, it would undoubtedly be goblins.

Whether the legends are true or not, who knows? I don’t care either way.

But I wholeheartedly agree that goblins are among the ugliest fiends in existence.

Their wrinkled green skin, their tiny child-like frames barely covered in sackcloth—yet unexpectedly packed with wiry, ferocious muscles.

Kishit! Kishik!

But the worst thing about these creatures is their excessive, savage aggression toward humans and other living things.

“Eeeek—!!”

Our party was ambushed by a dozen goblins. In particular, Luna shrieked like a banshee, stamping her feet in panic.

“Kyaaaah! Goblins! They’re so gross!”

Kishit, kishit.

Whether her screams drew their attention or not, under the moonlight, every goblin’s eyes locked onto the woman in the oversized mask.

Despite being merciless monsters, goblins possess a cunning intelligence—they even employ tactics like encirclement and annihilation. Their instincts tell them to target the weak link in a group to crush the whole. And in every sense, Luna was the weak link.

“W-Why are they coming at me?! Eek!”

Staggering backward, she tripped and fell flat—her moment of clumsiness exploited as goblins swarmed over her, clawing at her clothes, mask, and skin.

Kishit! Kishitt!

Kishk! Kaset!

“Aagh!!”

Her screams detonated like dynamite, igniting a bloodbath in the ruined shrine under the moonlit night.

Kasaaae!!

“Y-You little shits!”

Though their bodies were child-sized, the murderous intent radiating from them was unmistakable. These little bastards were looking down on me.

“Drop dead!”

I whipped out the dagger I kept at my waist and drove it straight into the neck of a goblin lunging at me.

Squelch—

The sensation of the blade piercing through flesh and muscle was disturbingly vivid.

The metallic stench of bl**d hit my nose, dizzying me—but now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. I yanked the dagger out and delivered a sharp kick to the goblin’s gut, sending it sprawling.

Gurgle—!

“I’ll k*ll every last one of you bastards!”

The adrenaline of battle, the scent of bl**d—my head spun with excitement. There’s nothing simpler than violence to vent all the pent-up frustration and absurdity I’ve endured in life.

Besides, goblins aren’t particularly strong monsters. I could handle two or three alone without breaking a sweat.

For an average adult male in this world, a goblin is something even an unarmed man can k*ll—meaning these little shits were beneath me in every way.

So, with about ten left, if I just coordinated with my party…

“M-My warding mask! Nooo!! Someone help!”

“My instrument—it’s breaking! My livelihood! Merciful Mercury, what is this madness?! G-Gaughk!”

“f*ck, no! Why are goblins here?! The end times! Oh, Titan, how I miss you!”

…Goddammit.

Apart from me, the rest were flailing around with goblins clawing at them like drowning men floundering in the ocean.

Their clothes torn, hair pulled, their bodies covered in wounds as they shrieked—only spurring the goblins into a worse frenzy. And honestly? It pissed me off. Fucking useless idiots!

“d*e, you bastards!”

Drunk on rage, I roundhouse-kicked a goblin, sending it flying before it crumpled like a sack of potatoes.

Kishaaat!

Kishaat!

Keshatki!

The surviving goblins, seeing their comrade downed, turned their wrath toward me.

Their gibberish was unintelligible, but I could guess—

”Huge b*stard!”

“Plenty of meat!”

Their mocking little squeals grated on me.

Who the hell do these half-sized freaks think they are?! I wouldn’t tolerate this disrespect.

”You’re not ready for me yet.”

With just my dagger in hand, I carved through their filthy hides, spraying their bl**d across the ground.

Kiiiit…

Crunch. Snap.

I stomped on a writhing goblin’s neck, crushing its windpipe, and roared:

”YOU’RE NOT READY FOR ME YET, YOU SHIIIIIIT!!!”

Gyaaek…!

Whether cowed by my fury or not, the goblins flinched—but begging for mercy now was pointless.

I swore on my father, who was probably lounging on an electric blanket back home, that not a single one of these ugly abominations would live!

After all, goblin fangs trade at 1 copper per tooth.

Ten goblins. Four fangs per head.

That’s 40 copper. I’d be rich!

Kiiiik!

Gyaaek!

The goblins must’ve sensed their doom, abandoning their attacks on my comrades to dogpile me.

“Grrk—! Surrounding tactic?! You little fucks—!”

Now it was total chaos—like wrestling in a mud pit. I flailed wildly, tearing goblins off me, stomping, kicking anything that moved.

But even I had limits.

Shiiiing—!

“Agh! It hurts! M-My clothes are ripping!”

Gyaaek!

f*ck, even tiny bodies hurt when there’s a swarm! They tugged my hair, clawed at my eyes—no, not there—!

“I’ll help you, Hassan! Hey, go away!”

Just as I wrestled in agony, a sharp voice cut through the fray. Soon after came a sound like helicopter blades—whoooooom—impossible in a world without even proper carriages.

Then I understood.

It wasn’t a machine—it was bees.

Luna, in her infinite wisdom, had stuffed a whole hive into her leather flask and now unleashed the furious swarm.

Gyaaaaak!

“Agh! Hot! Fucking hell, it stings!”

“H-Hassan—!”

—

“S-Sorry, Hassan! B-But I had no choice! The bees don’t know who’s friend or foe! At least it drove the goblins away…”

“….”

“O-Okay, I’ll shut up. Anyway, the stings didn’t swell too bad—must be the Samaritan bl**d in you? Maybe no antidote needed.”

“Shut up.”

“Mmm…”

By the crackling campfire, I plucked out stingers embedded in my skin, my body covered in gashes from goblin claws and branches.

The worst part? My clothes were shredded.

Mended rags could only do so much. These were the same leathers I’d scraped together 3 silver for back in my slave days. I’d survived Elpride’s whip strikes, thinking I’d wear them for years. Now they’re beyond saving.

“Brethren, here—twenty fangs from five goblins you slaughtered. Such valor! Cutting down those fiends like a savage Cyclops of old! Ah, Cyclops—the one-eyed giant warriors…”

The bard Malco strummed his lute, but I didn’t even have the energy to groan.

If one more ridiculous thing happened, I swear I’d just leave. Being around these idiots would be the d*ath of me.

“I don’t know why goblins were here. Though dull, they rarely gather near human settlements. In my seventy years, this is a first.”

From the singing bard to the scholarly Platan, everyone had different reactions post-combat.

Checking wounds, counting lost items—someone finally spoke:

“All that fighting and singing worked up an appetite. How about sharing the food we brought? I packed rations.”

“Y-Yeah, good idea! I’ve got mushrooms and stuff. Pot and water too.”

One by one, they pulled out their provisions. Me? I hadn’t packed a thing.

“…Hassan, rest. We’ll cook. D-Don’t look, you’re scary.”

“The wild youngling’s fought hard. Let’s excuse him from night watch—all in favor?”

“Aye.”

“Malco agrees.”

No night watch? That’s the dream. A full night’s sleep.

With the last stinger pulled, I flopped onto my back, staring at the sky.

The forest swayed in the wind, the stars above shimmering beautifully—brighter than back home.

The only difference was two moons hanging in the sky.

Amid bubbling stew and throbbing pain, gloom crept in.

Why am I even here?

I missed my mom. Even my d*mn father and little sister.

“Sister, is it ready? Two songs should’ve done it. My timing is impeccable.”

“Yeah, should be. Hassan, supper. Grandpa, want some?”

“No, thank you. I’m on a nocturnal fasting regimen for research. Besides, I must ponder these goblins’ behavior.”

The old scholar Platan scribbled notes, while the others served themselves.

With a sigh, I sat up—spotting something strange in the stew.

“…Why’s there a toad in there?”

“Oh! You noticed! It’s a medicinal oil toad—great for recovery! A rare delicacy—”

A goddamn toad hotpot.

Rather than restoring my HP, this would drain my SAN.

But years of starvation as a slave and enduring my father’s “education” had stripped me of any culinary aversions.

“Sister, surely a toad is…”

“Tasty! And great for wounds! Popular in Ideope!”

“…Very well. Gulp. …An abominable flavor indeed. Like the toad’s still swimming in my mouth.”

“Right? Delicious! I’ll have some too.”

Slurp.

Luna removed her ridiculous mask—wait, she can take it off?!

I’d half-assumed the mask was her head.

Underneath was a shock of pink hair, slightly damp, tied into twin-tails.

Her emerald eyes met mine—surprisingly cute.

For a moment, pain and frustration faded.

Beautiful women steal a man’s senses—hence why men act like fools for them.

I used to laugh at Elpride’s simps…

But now, free of Deus’ curse, I somewhat understood.

“Sister, you’re younger than I thought. How old?”

“Just turned adult. In Ideope, only adults can travel abroad.”

“So until recently, a maiden? Do maidens there dress so… provocatively? I must visit!”

“P-Provocative?! This is traditional shaman garb! H-How old are you, nosey?!”

“Malco, not ‘nosey.’ And I’m 26.”

“…What?! I’d have guessed 30!”

Shaggy beard and rough skin—honestly, I’d thought the same. The shock.

Do people here not age visibly? Finley, Elpride, and now this guy.

“And you, brother?”

“Also 26.”

“Dear gods! I’d have sworn you were older! Call me friend.”

Friend my a**. Anyone would peg you as the elder.

Though, right now, I looked every bit the ragged outcast—unkempt hair, unshaven beard, scars, grime, and goblin bl**d.

Maybe a bathhouse visit once we return. I’d noticed one near the west gate.

Bounties from goblins and pests should cover it—a justifiable luxury.

Hygiene is health, after all.

—

The night passed in chatter and song.

Morning came—time to clean the shrine.

After burying vines, goblin corpses, and fire traces, we found something odd.

“Brethren, look—an odd figurine inside the broken statue.”

“b*stard! Don’t touch it!”

[Closing Note] Thank you!!

—

(Translation adheres to the provided glossary, maintaining tone and stylistic choices while ensuring clarity.)*

---