After the two sides separated, Renard continued to the northwest.

The further you go northwest, the more desolate it becomes, and at last you can't even see half a human figure, and in front of you is a wasteland that can't be seen, the grass is half a man high, and the dry branches and leaves hang with crystal ice flowers, swaying weakly with the cold wind.

He quickly pulled himself up, for this was already the territory of the monsters.

The tall grass is tall enough to hide the kobolds and goblins, and the hateful and timid ones often jump out coldly to make trouble for adventurers.

Not surprisingly, he didn't go far before he was blocked by dozens of natives.

Dark green skin, large, pointed ears, garlic nose, small and short, with no strands on his body, dressed like a homeless man squatting on a street corner.

If Renard guessed correctly, he should have appeared in front of a more formal gang of goblin bandits, so he took on the task of hunting goblins and prepared for the second battle in another world.

The goblin at the front wore a few decent pieces of armor, but it was dirty and hadn't been cleaned for I don't know how long, and the spear made of animal bones was barely seen as a weapon.

The leader of the goblins even took a shabby wooden shield, and his face revealed an aura that made people feel angry and funny.

To be honest, the goblins are not very strong, they are only as big as children of eight or nine years old, and their strength is not even as good as that of children.

However, if they are despised because of their appearance, they will definitely suffer a big loss.

Goblins are actually very difficult, they hold grudges, use tools in surprising numbers, and are adept at hiding in the grass with rocks and sharp iron tools to sneak attack.

The most important thing is that they concoct poison and apply it to their weapons against their enemies.

Most of those poisons are taken from some kind of poison, and they are so poisonous that even if they scratch the skin, they can kill people.

The scum Renard had been carelessly tricked and lay in bed for three days and three nights, and if it weren't for the two senior pharmacists in Fort Saint-Brieu, it would have been questionable whether his life could have been saved.

However, it is precisely because of this skillful method of concocting poison that the goblins have caused unjustified disasters.

The pharmacists are very fond of these little creatures, they are smart, obedient, attentive, and most importantly, unpaid, and the goblins have a body structure similar to that of humans, making them very good test materials.

The kingdom of Arthur forbade human experimentation and other inhumane things, so the pharmacists retreated to the next best thing, looking for goblins as a substitute for their experiments, resulting in hundreds of thousands of goblins dying at their hands every year.

The huge demand has created countless well-known goblin hunters, and ordinary hunters who are struggling to make ends meet also lock in goblins as an important source of income, and the natural law of survival of the strong is vividly reflected at this time.

In the past, Renard was happy to bundle these goblins and sell them to the pharmacists of Fort St. Brieu, but now that the system task was in front of him, he could not spare any mercy.

The two sides were deadlocked for about five minutes, and the goblins still had no offensive posture.

Renard sighed helplessly, slammed the horse's belly, and rushed over first.

A shuddering neighing roar erupted from the horse's mouth, and he swung his two-handed sword fiercely, the sharp blade slashing straight at the goblin leader closest to him.

"Sting!" the fragile head was immediately split in half, and the stinky brain burst open in an instant.

The strongest combat power was directly killed in seconds, and the surrounding goblins immediately knew that they had provoked the wrong people, and they were immediately frightened, and they scattered and fled like frightened birds.

Renard drove the horse to rush left and right, and there was really a posture of Zhao Zilong entering and exiting seven times on the long half of the slope.

However, the results were not significant, and only a dozen goblins were cut down in a long time.

The cunning and perseverance of the goblins almost matched their cowardice, and when they realized that Renard was not as strong as they had imagined, they gathered again and hung behind him to wait for an opportunity.

Renard knew that unless the winner was completely decided, he would not want to get rid of these hungry and red-eyed natives.

As expected, the goblins who slowly gathered once again mustered up their courage, and they struck from three sides with their slender legs, and even barely managed to maintain a queue, such a rigorous combat method was comparable to that of ruffians fighting and brawling.

Perhaps it was the numerical superiority that spurred them on, and the goblins at the front couldn't help but raise their weapons high, making a sound similar to provocation in their mouths.

Renard reined in the reins and turned his horse back, his face solemn as it had never been.

If he just wanted to deter the goblins from leaving, now he wants to completely destroy these annoying creatures.

He had to be up to the twelve, even if he was against the most timid and death-fearing guy in the Barrens.

Seeing the opponent make a fighting stance, the goblin who was still chasing after him immediately stopped suddenly, and the companions behind were unable to dodge and collide with each other, and the attack formation instantly became terrible.

The chaos lasted for a long time, and the goblins lined up again, shouting non-stop in their mouths, as if they were demonstrating, but they just didn't dare to move forward half a step.

They crowded and shoved, as if they wanted to push their companions ahead of them, and the goblin motto was: Fight and run last, rush to the front for the spoils, send your fellow to death, and enjoy yourself.

The corners of Renard's mouth flashed with a faint sneer, and he immediately stopped wasting time, sword in hand, war horse neighing, and killed the goblin bandits with an invincible attitude.

The goblins were still pushing each other, but when they suddenly saw their opponents launch a surprise attack without warning, their reaction was that they were all stunned.

It wasn't until the horses rushed forward and kicked the bones of several goblins in front of them that the rest of the goblins screamed and waved their weapons in resistance.

However, a shoddy spear could not pierce the heavy cloth armor of the warhorse, let alone damage Renard's leather armor and cause damage to him.

So he was like a tiger entering a flock of sheep, and his long sword turned into countless cold lights, slashing horizontally, vertically, and diagonally, and in less than ten minutes, he once again crushed the goblin robbers.

Most of the goblin robbers were killed, and the rest were terrified, and after a short time they fled one after another.

When all the goblins disappeared, Renard breathed a sigh of relief, in fact, killing the goblins was not as easy as it seemed, at least riding a horse and swinging a sword was an extremely difficult technical job to complete.

He rested for a few minutes, noticing that there were no moving creatures around him, before he rolled over and dismounted and groped around the shattered goblin corpse.

Ten minutes later, Renard returned to his horse with a smile on his face, a few more worn-out cowhide bags in his hand.

As mentioned earlier, the goblin is a good hand at playing with poison, and his sophistication can even be compared to that of an apothecary's apprentice, and he holds poison from corpses.

Although the effect is not clear, it always comes in handy to keep it.