When I Cleared the Death Game World, I Reincarnated as a Villainous Noble Even if They Talk About Doom Flags, I'm Actually Immortal. - Chapter 9

The rustling of leaves echoed through the night forest.

A figure in a black hooded cloak moved swiftly, pushing aside branches as he ran.

It was Lior.

Several days had passed since he learned about the goblin attacks on the village.

Under the cover of darkness, he had secretly slipped out of the mansion.

His goal—to eliminate the goblins.

While he did sympathize with the villagers, he had another reason for taking action.

He needed real combat experience.

Lior had been building his stamina and learning swordsmanship from Laura, but in the end, it was all training—nothing more than reading a textbook without actually taking a test.

To truly improve, he needed to engrave those lessons into his body through actual combat.

Hunting goblins was the perfect opportunity.

(Felicia’s information should be accurate. I know where their den is… but what bothers me is the missing adventurers…)

Just yesterday, a group of adventurers had accepted a goblin extermination request.

Even though goblin hunts weren’t profitable, they were common beginner quests.

For novice adventurers, they served as a test of skill—a way to gain experience in real combat.

Goblins were aggressive and numerous, but individually weak.

Yet, the adventurers never returned.

Something had gone wrong.

(If they just got scared and ran away, that’d be the best-case scenario. But… this is the place?)

Lior halted, looking up at the ruins before him.

Ancient stone walls, now gray and overgrown with ivy, loomed under the moonlight.

According to Felicia’s report, the goblins had made their den here.

Hiding in the shadows, Lior observed the entrance.

Two goblins stood guard at the entrance of the ruins.

It was clear they were posted as sentries.

(Only two outside… so the rest must be inside? Goblins are nocturnal—they should be more active at this hour.)

Goblins tended to roam at night, yet these two were the only ones visible.

Something felt off.

(Maybe the group is smaller than expected? It doesn’t quite add up… but I’ll have to go in and see for myself.)

Keeping his breathing steady, Lior moved forward silently.

Darting from shadow to shadow, he closed the distance.

Then—

Shhk.

Lior drove his blade into a goblin’s back.

“—!?”

“Shhh. No screaming.”

Before the other goblin could react, Lior’s sword sliced clean through its neck.

A dull thud echoed as the head hit the ground.

The night remained undisturbed.

“Entrance secured. Alright, let’s see if my dungeon-crawling instincts are still sharp.”

Lior stepped into the ruins.

The air inside was cold and damp, like the depths of an underground tunnel.

No torches.

No fire pits.

Only darkness.

Lior adjusted the lantern strapped to his belt, and a pale white light illuminated the surroundings.

(Carvings…? These symbols… are they from the civilization that built this place?)

The glow revealed the walls, covered in ancient engravings.

The images depicted figures in dark robes, standing in a circle around what appeared to be a sacrificial altar.

A ritual of some kind—but its meaning remained unclear.

Lior quickly lost interest in the carvings and moved forward.

His goal was to exterminate the goblins, not to investigate ancient ruins.

With a light leap, he jumped over something as effortlessly as a child playing in a field.

Beneath him, a thin string stretched across the ground, tied to a small branch meant to be triggered.

(Setting traps like this… Goblins really are smarter than I thought.)

It was a tripwire alarm.

If someone stepped on the string, it would shake the branch, creating a rattling noise to alert nearby goblins.

A rudimentary warning system, but effective nonetheless.

Goblins had just enough intelligence to lay simple traps like this.

“Gugyaa!!”

“Well, of course, you’d set up an ambush.”

“Gugh!?”

As soon as Lior avoided the trap, a goblin lunged at him from the shadows.

But Lior was already prepared.

His blade flashed, and in the next instant, the goblin was cleaved apart, its limp body collapsing to the floor.

He had seen traps and ambushes like this countless times in Drag Machina.

Dangerous areas felt familiar to him now.

This kind of sneak attack wasn’t enough to catch him off guard.

But something else bothered him more than the trap itself.

(This is the first goblin I’ve encountered inside… The numbers feel too low.)

It was too quiet.

Lior had learned through bitter experience that when things seem too easy, something worse is always coming.

This felt like the calm before a storm.

With growing unease, he pressed forward cautiously.

And his bad feeling was right.

The hallway he followed opened up into a massive chamber.

It was as large as a stadium or coliseum, with stone seating arranged in tiers around a central arena.

And those seats?

They were filled with a seething sea of green bodies.

Over a hundred goblins sat watching the center of the chamber, their attention fixated on something below.

At the very center, three goblins stood apart from the rest—

Each one gripping a wooden staff, their heads covered by hooded cloaks.

(Three goblin shamans?)

Goblin shamans could wield magic.

They were more intelligent than typical goblins and often acted as leaders or strategists within a goblin horde.

No one knew how wild goblins learned magic, though theories ranged from demonic blessings to stolen knowledge.

Regardless, they were rare.

For a single group to have three goblin shamans?

That was highly unusual.

(They’re… performing a ritual?)

The shamans moved their staves in unison, their chanting eerie and rhythmic.

At their feet, a large magic circle glowed faintly.

Encircling it was a grotesque display—long intestines carefully arranged, forming what looked like a barrier or seal.

And then Lior noticed her.

A woman was bound to a wooden post, her body covered in bruises.

She wasn’t moving.

One of the missing adventurers, no doubt.

(This is bad… really bad…)

The scene before him felt all too familiar.

It looked exactly like a cult ritual—

The kind meant to summon something far worse than goblins.

A cold dread crept up his spine, sending a shiver through his body.

If he didn’t stop them now, it would be too late.

Lior tightened his grip on his sword—

And charged forward.