Wizard: I am a goblin

Chapter 119 Dulin's Perspective

"Dulin".

A voice rang in Dulin's ear.

Is that you, Blanca?

The dwarf was in a state between sleep and wakefulness, his thoughts like a shapeless white mist, without beginning or end.

Bang!

A glass of wine!

Bang!

Two roars!

Bang!

Three-headed dog!

Bang!

Smash its head!

The bright, rhythmic sound of the hammer striking the anvil, accompanied by the dwarven blacksmith's chants, echoed in Dulin's mind.

The female dwarf was sweating profusely, her brass-colored skin gleaming from the molten lava in the furnace.

"Blanca!" Dulin roared at the dwarf woman.

The female dwarf did not hear the young dwarf's call—her red beard was tied into two braids, casually tied behind her neck, the ends of which were scorched by sparks, but she did not care.

What a beautiful girl! Just like her ancestors! Dulin couldn't help but think. He felt a little inferior about his short brown beard—in dwarven society, he was still a boy with no hair on his chin.

He was an apprentice jeweler, belonging to the respectable "artisan" caste, the same as "warriors," "miners," "merchants," and "farmers," and was a pillar of dwarven society.

However, within the artisan caste, there are distinctions between different professions.

Jewelry making is a lucrative profession, but compared to blacksmithing, one is meticulously working on jewelry at a table, while the other is sweating profusely in front of a furnace. It goes without saying which one has more of a dwarf's spirit.

Born into the Jinkra clan, bearing that name, Dulin was born a jeweler—it was simply his destiny. His dwarven lineage determined his future path; abandoning the family profession would be betraying his ancestors, incurring the scorn of everyone—few dared to defy convention. Dulin was no exception. Although he was more interested in magical artifacts, he still embarked on the path of a jeweler.

Dulin never complained. Being born into the artisan caste was better than being born into the servant caste. There were even dwarves who were born without a caste... If their parents were criminals or interracial couples, their children were forever branded with an untouchable label, forced to eke out a living in the lowest-lying neighborhoods, begging and committing crimes... Dulin couldn't even imagine what that kind of life would be like; to become like that would be worse than death.

Of course, there are also lucky ones who are born into noble castes: priests and scholars, who possess something more precious than gold—the respect and obedience of the other dwarves.

Intermarriage between different castes is not advisable, but for the craftsman Dulin, this was not a concern at all: who could be more suitable than Blanca?

"Dulin!" The dwarf finally noticed him. She wiped the dirty sweat from her face with a rag and ran over to Dulin.

"Blanca, I have a gift for you."

The male dwarf took something out of his waist, placed it in his palm, and respectfully handed it to the girl in front of him with both hands.

Blanca grabbed it; it was a flat, round brass compass with a crystal dome over which a pointer was placed.

"Thank you, Dulin." Blanca casually spun the compass in her palm, the needle following her hand's movements. "What's this?"

"This is an enchanted gold-finding compass—not gold, but refined gold. As long as there's a large amount of refined gold nearby, it will automatically point in that direction. You see, just press this button..." Dulin patiently explained the compass's functions to the female dwarf. The girl radiated warmth, making Dulin's face flush slightly.

Blanca listened to Dulin's explanation, but her eyes didn't look at the compass; instead, they were fixed on the young dwarf's face.

"...Then, shake it upside down, and you can reset it...Are you listening?" Dulin suddenly looked up, met the girl's gaze, and quickly looked away.

"Oh dear, this isn't working properly. Is it broken?" The female dwarf picked up the compass, shook it a couple of times in her hand, and looked puzzled.

"What? That can't be!" Dulin quickly reached for it—Blanca snatched the compass back and gave a big smile.

"Just kidding, haha, look how nervous you are."

"How could you... I said... it was just tested, how could it be broken?" Dulin scratched his face embarrassedly.

Blanca looked at him, and when he wasn't looking, she gave him a hard kiss on the cheek, leaving a fine ring of sweat on Dulin's face.

"This..." The dwarf's mind went blank, and he couldn't say a word for a moment. His face turned bright red, like a red mushroom.

"With this, we can find the ancestral adamantite furnace!" The dwarf placed the compass against her chest. "Really, thank you, Dulin... I didn't expect you to remember something I only mentioned briefly... I..."

"It's alright, it's alright... However, this compass can't do anything that amazing yet; its range is still limited..."

Before Dulin could finish speaking, the master craftsman of the forge called Blanca back with a shout—she turned around, answered, hurriedly said goodbye to Dulin, and rushed back.

Dulin watched the girl's strong back, his thoughts wandering far away...

Blanca... my Blanca...

"Hey, dwarf."

Dulin opened his eyes a crack.

My mouth is so dry, my tongue feels like it's on fire...it feels like I drank a spoonful of lava...

Through the bone fence, a water sac was handed over.

The half-deer's hands were as rough as tree bark.

The dwarf took two sips of water, and the cold water stimulated his parched throat, causing him to cough reflexively.

"Drink some more. Then chew these leaves and put them on your wound," Thornton said coldly, tossing a few Starflowers over the fence. "If you don't want to die."

Dulin drank a few more sips of water, moistening his mouth. He chewed the herbs as instructed, enduring the pain, and pressed them onto the wounds on his thigh and behind his ear.

The half-deer looked at the dwarf's missing left ear, while Dulin looked at him through the fence with fear and confusion in his eyes.

"We cut off your ear because we need to show your companions that you're still alive. Not because we enjoy violence, do you understand?"

Dulin hesitated for a moment, then nodded. He decided not to argue with this terrifying beastman.

"...Cough...My companions will pay to ransom me, and if they don't, the Salt and Iron Merchants' Guild will. My clan has savings in the guild, so they won't just stand by and watch me die."

The dwarf pleaded in a hoarse voice for himself. He knew that his life or death depended entirely on the deer-man's decision.

"Yes, gold. Everything can be measured in gold, can't it?" the deer-man said coldly. "How much do you think your life is worth?"

"...A lot, several thousand gold coins, even tens of thousands. I am Dulin of the Jinkel family of Seven Peaks Fortress in Stone Foot Mountain, fourth in line to succeed as the next clan leader. My clan is not stingy with gold. I know you have no reason to believe me, but Jinkel never goes back on its word. Let me go, and I will guarantee you get the money."

"I smell despair, dwarf. Desperate people grasp at anything as a lifeline." Thorton wrinkled his nose. "How can you expect me to trust a dwarf who associates with goblins?"

"Goblin?" Dulin looked puzzled.

Thorton paused, carefully observing the dwarf's reaction, and then said:

"You didn't know?"

"What do you know?" The dwarf hesitated for a moment. "You mean Geb-lin... His sense of humor is a bit strange. Although his name is Geb-lin, he is actually a halfling... This name is most likely fake, but it's normal to have a fake name when traveling."

For a moment, Thornton was at a loss for words to refute.

"...What I mean is, your partner is a goblin, a magical goblin, didn't you know?"

"Huh?" The dwarf looked completely bewildered. He thought back for a moment, then realized, "Oh right, during the escape, Geb did use magic!"

He suddenly realized something, but not entirely—he understood the magic part, but what about the goblins?

The half-deer was speechless and choked with emotion.

"...You're an honest person, even a bit dull. My intuition is right. If you were in the beastman tribe, you might be blessed by the capybara fairies." After a long pause, Thorton said, "Unfortunately, your friends are not trustworthy."

"Gob will save me," the dwarf murmured. "But... how can he be a goblin?"

"Will that caravan offer 5000 gold coins to save you?" Thorton asked.

Dulin paused for a moment, then said, "...Yes, it will. It definitely will."

A flicker of uncertainty crossed his eyes—the half-deer man astutely seized upon this flaw.

"You hesitated, dwarf."

"I……"

"It's alright," Thorton interrupted Dulin's stammering reply. "Your friend said he'd save you, but his real intention is for us to help him get rid of that manticore. After that, neither you nor I will be of any use to him. I think it's best for that lying goblin for us all to die in a chaotic battle."

"I won't let you die, dwarf. After we kill that goblin, you will serve as our mouthpiece to the caravan and get the gold. Whether it's for your life or the bounty on that manticore, I don't care about the reason, I just want five thousand gold coins, not a penny more, not a penny less."

"So you'd better hope that little beast named Gebu dies quickly. Only when he's dead will we have a reason to let you live."

Dulin heard everything, stared at the floor, and remained silent.

"Did you understand? Dwarf?" Thorton asked.

The dwarf nodded silently.

Just then, a commotion arose outside the camp. The half-deer immediately became alert, drew his scimitar, and whistled.

……

A cat meowed.

"Fel'na (cat), is that you?" Soren asked.

Whoosh!

Catwoman darted out of the woods, a twisting cloth bag tucked under her arm.

"Ugh—ugh!"

Thornton looked at Catwoman and frowned.

"I told you to track Blackwing Rattlesnake, what did you bring back?"

Catwoman stuck her tongue out at Thornton, then opened the pocket, and a small, pointed creature emerged from it.

It's a dog-headed man.

A dog-headed man without eggs.

The dog-headed man Tutu did a somersault on the ground, then tried to run away, but was pinned down by the catwoman's paw.

"Help...help! TuTu doesn't taste good—TuTu is hard to chew—"

"Tsk—hurry up and take that thing out so the deer can see it!"

At this moment, the other beastmen in the camp also gathered around, watching with great interest as the kobolds suffered.

"Hmph, snacks?" the boar-man asked.

"No, it's a guide," Catwoman retorted. She slashed open the kobold's vest, then pulled out a bone-colored scale that was over ten centimeters long from his buttocks.

Thornton squinted at the thing and suddenly blurted out.

"The tail scales of the Blackwing Rattlesnake?!"

"It's not Black-Clad Scented Tail... it's Draushum," the kobold Tutu muttered.

Where did you find it?

"I……"

The catwoman stretched out her claws and pressed them against Tutu's throat, startling the kobold.

"Ruins! There are ruins at the foot of the hill! I'll take you there!"

"Go! Everyone move out! Take the traps and bait!" Soton shouted urgently. The beastmen immediately scattered, packed up their tents, and prepared to move.

The weasel overheard everything and slipped over to the deer-man, asking a question.

"What about the dwarves?"

The half-deer turned to look at Dulin in the cage. His face had regained some color, but he was still very weak.

"Take him with you, don't let him get away!"