Overlord: Start from the Goblin Lair

To be honest, Ron heard everything clearly in the will-o'-the-wisp's story, but that's how it was.

The only thing that can be confirmed is its last sentence: the side portrait of the silver dragon is generally considered to be the holy emblem of the platinum dragon king Bahamut, so an involuntary and originally evil existence suddenly began to worship it. The only possibility is that the owner behind this will-o'-the-wisp is also a dragon.

And it is most likely a chromatic dragon.

Colorful dragons live in swamps. Among the five-color true dragons, there is such a type that meets this standard: black dragons.

As the most violent and despicable type of chromatic dragons, black dragons will collect the remains of the dead along with their treasures. They hate to see the prosperity of the weak and are happy to see the collapse of the humanoid kingdom. The stinking swamp and the ruins and rubble of the fallen kingdom would be their ideal home.

Of course, the above are all stereotypes of black dragons. For a black dragon who was converted after being beaten by "Canary", Ron doesn't know what kind of existence the other party is.

But no matter what, this is their neighbor, and it is reasonable to visit him.

"Then why do you keep shouting for help during the day? Do you want to get rid of your master?"

"I don't know!" Will-o'-the-wisp said confidently, "I just want to scare you and keep you away from the wellhead! Who knew you could do necromancy!"

"Then, can you take us to see your master? This should be your job, right?"

"No," Will-o'-the-wisp refused flatly, "My current task is to drive you away, not to lead you."

Ron looked behind him, and the villagers in those seemingly quiet houses had all fallen asleep. Let them start wandering again after finally settling down?

Ron was very lazy. Compared to this, when avoiding the problem was too troublesome, it would be better to solve the problem.

"Your master definitely doesn't want his enemies to hurt innocent people, right?" Ron said in a persuasive manner, "Our goal is exactly the same."

"And as long as your master's enemy is killed, no one will be hurt anymore, right? Think about it carefully?"

The will-o'-the-wisp fell silent, and spoke again after a long while: "I'm not sure whether this is right or wrong..."

"Okay, I'll take you to the master's lair!"

"But you have to follow me closely, my master's lair is very deep--"

After instructing Andre to take good care of the village, Ron and his friends got ready and followed the will-o'-the-wisp out of the village.

Generally speaking, the will-o'-the-wisp rarely speaks, but this one is a chatterbox. Therefore, Ron is more inclined to believe that what the other party said is true.

In the fantasy land in the middle of the night, darkness shrouded the swamp and forest, like a hungry beast devouring everything. The quagmire and the land were lifeless, and the grass and trees were almost submerged in the swamp, crawling on the ground. There is no sign of human here, no lights, only the night wind whistling through the forest, and the branches of trees swinging their arms like ghosts. The dense and thick forests and the unfathomable swamps hide all kinds of mysterious things.

The thick clouds in the sky are wrapped with a full moon, like a dim eye, watching this land. In the endless darkness, the inexplicable fear always seeps out from various corners and shrouds everyone.

"I always feel that something is going to attack us," Sera spit on her hand so that she can hold the double-edged axe firmly, "If I stay in this environment for a few days, I will definitely go crazy!"

"An interesting topic," Ivy suddenly thought of something and couldn't help laughing, "Will a violent barbarian become normal after going crazy?"

"Then I have a question too," Sera pouted, "What kind of offspring will two half-elves produce, a pure-blooded human and a pure-blooded elf?"

"Are you challenging the bottom line of half-elves!" Ivy pretended to be angry.

"You are so noisy!" the will-o'-the-wisp shouted in front, "We have to walk a long distance, can you be a little quieter?"

After three whole nights, Ron and his friends, guided by the will-o'-the-wisp, even walked out of the map that the goblin hunters had explored. Everything in front of them became more weird, twisted and unfamiliar.

"To be honest, I'm beginning to think that this adventure is not a good idea." Victoria walked beside Ron and whispered.

"We know almost nothing about this place."

"If you were closer, my master wouldn't bother to let me drive you away!" the will-o'-the-wisp shouted, "Because you are no match for that monster at all!"

"See? We're here, right there!"

The will-o'-the-wisp turned into a stream of light and suddenly floated to the back of a slope that looked no different from the surrounding terrain: "That's it!"

"Is this a... ruin?"

When Ron and his friends quickened their pace and rushed over, they were shocked by the scene in front of them. None of them had expected that in the depths of this fantasy land, in a poor and bad area, there would be a ruin of a settlement!

In the ruins, the ancient streets are in pieces, and the former shops are only black and gray smoke and broken walls. All traces of past life have been weathered and buried in the dust of history.

In the middle of the deserted square, a huge, strange building made of dry mud and ruins was the lair of the owner of the will-o'-the-wisp. In the dim sky, the will-o'-the-wisp stopped, and with the light of its own fire, Ron and his companions finally saw its "reformed" owner.

This terrifying creature is about five meters long, one meter wide, and about one meter and two meters high, about the same size as Driver.

Its skull has deep eye sockets and conspicuous open nostrils, which makes it look like a skeleton. Its horns are curved and segmented, bone white near the root, and the closer to the end, the darker it becomes until it turns into dead black. Its flat tongue is forked at the end, and the sticky saliva with a strong acid taste enhances the stench of rotten vegetation and sewage on its body.

All this confirms the identity of the owner of these features: this is indeed a black dragon, but it does not look like an adult.

At this moment, it was half-opening its mouth, sticking out its tongue, and making a low roar from its throat, as if it was warning a creature not to get close, or preparing for an upcoming attack - and the targets of these actions were not Ron and others.

Dancing Lights lit up in Ron's hands, and until this moment, they could see the enemy of this black dragon, the even darker creature.

"Fuck, Swampmaw!"

Ron cursed for the first time since he came to this world.

Happy New Year~