Father Hobbes warmly welcomed his old friend the bard, who had traveled from afar, and his guest Nidhogg in the monastery's chapel.
This bearded old man looked kind and ordinary, but his status was actually quite high.
Many nations that believed in the One God had formed a vast religious community. At the heart of this community was the Holy See.
The Holy See not only had its own direct jurisdiction but could also dispatch troops directly under the Pope's authority to travel through the territories of religious nations, build monasteries, preach doctrine, and eliminate cults and paganism.
The Kingdom of Midland naturally belonged to this religious community. The entire kingdom was divided into large and small parishes, each with at least one responsible priest and monastery.
The priest responsible for the diocese in this area was Father Hobbes.
When the bard had passed through here before, he had suffered from a rather severe case of dysentery. If Father Hobbes hadn't agreed to save him and let him stay in the monastery to recover, he would have died in the wilderness, his bones carried off by wild dogs.
During the month of recovery, the bard's eloquence and his understanding of Midland's customs and practices had earned Father Hobbes's appreciation. A deep friendship had formed between them.
When the bard set out again, Father Hobbes had hoped he would visit again in the future. The bard naturally agreed.
Two years had passed since he made that promise. When he happened to recall this matter, he ran into Nidhogg, who was searching for nearby Mist Valley. So the bard and Nidhogg hit it off and came together to this monastery.
Tonight's dinner in the monastery was as simple and light as always, but everyone was quite satisfied.
However, when Father Hobbes learned that Nidhogg intended to go to nearby Mist Valley, his face paled slightly. He said in a trembling voice, "Must you go to such a place?"
"What's the matter?" Nidhogg took a napkin, wiped the food remnants from the corner of his mouth, and asked.
"That is an evil place." A shadow passed over Father Hobbes's eyes. "Even the light of God struggles to shine in such darkness."
Hearing this, the bard also straightened up with interest. His large belly touched the dining table. "What happened? When I left two years ago, there was no such talk. The village rumor was that it was a place where fairies lived."
Before arriving, the bard had even played and sung alone, reciting a poem based on the tale of "Peg the Red-Eyed" for Nidhogg.
Peg was a child different from others—with pointed ears and red eyes. He was often isolated and bullied by other children.
Even though his parents loved and cared for him deeply, he couldn't bear the feeling of isolation and being different from everyone else. So he ran alone into the deep mountains and forests, trying to find the ethereal goblins.
Unexpectedly, Peg actually found the goblins. These goblins were very much like him—red-eyed and pointed-eared—but compared to Peg, they had two extra pairs of wings and could fly.
While Peg was bewildered, the goblins recalled the past and told him the truth.
It turned out that when Peg was a child, he had been gravely ill. His parents, in desperation, had taken Peg to seek out the goblins and begged for their help.
The goblins used magic to help Peg's parents heal him, but the price was that half of Peg's body turned into that of a goblin.
Learning the whole truth, Peg finally understood how much his parents loved him. He ran home, only to find that everything had changed.
It turned out that time in the fairy world was completely different from the human world. Peg had only lived in the forest for a short while, but a hundred years had passed in the human world. His parents had long since died.
The bard believed that the tale of "Peg the Red-Eyed," circulating in this area, was one of the sources of the fairy legend about Mist Valley. It was merely people's imagination of a fantastical world.
Of course, as a bard, he loved this kind of romantic fantasy. He had even specially adapted a poem for recitation about it.
Nidhogg was still deeply moved by this poetic tale of chess and vicissitudes, but he didn't agree with the bard's assertion.
Because a group of goblins had actually lived in Mist Valley. For some reason, they had left. Later, they were displaced by another kind of "goblin."
"Yes, they are fairies—but they are fairies that bring disaster." Half of Father Hobbes's face was lit by the candlelight; the other half was shrouded in shadow.
"It's normal that you don't know, Bard, because this happened after you left. Suddenly, one day, the legend of Mist Valley became real when a group of goblins flew out of Mist Valley."
"Wherever they went, whether people or animals, they would gnaw them all, like locusts crossing a border. Only remnants of bones were left. But strangely, they didn't harm children. They simply captured them and vanished."
"Such tragedies and disappearances occurred one after another. Many nearby villages couldn't bear it, so they gathered a large group of young and middle-aged men and planned to enter Mist Valley to investigate. But in the end, no one returned."
"Since then, the goblins of Mist Valley have become a true nightmare in our area. Even in broad daylight, many villagers dare not show their faces outside. Every household reinforces their doors and windows. Children are forbidden to go out and play."
"My monastery has become very empty because of this. Few are willing to come and worship. Most of the time, I take the initiative to preach in the villages."
After listening to Father Hobbes's account, Nidhogg couldn't help but sigh inwardly: In that case, daring to go out and preach—you truly have faith. It's impressive.
The bard had a different reaction. His eyes lit up, and he said:
"It sounds like a story worth rewriting into poetry... Of course, I don't believe that nonsense about goblins. Probably some bandit gang has occupied the valley, right?"
"Nidhogg, how about we go together tomorrow? Let's see what's really going on?"
"No need." Nidhogg didn't want another encumbrance, so he quickly said, "You and Father Hobbes haven't seen each other for years. Stay here and catch up."
Father Hobbes urged him a few more times, but Nidhogg insisted on going alone. He had no choice but to dissuade his friend the bard from accompanying him. In the end, he convinced the bard to stay.
After the meal, Father Hobbes arranged separate rooms for each of them in the monastery to rest.
After washing up, Nidhogg blew out the candles and lay down to sleep.
He slept soundly until the middle of the night, when he felt his face being gently patted several times.
Waking with a start, he immediately sat up alertly and looked to the side. He saw Melina in her hooded cloak standing at the edge of the bed, bathed in moonlight. She looked utterly sacred.
Nidhogg breathed a sigh of relief and complained, "Melina, you scared me half to death..."
"Melina..." Melina faltered for a moment, but still felt the matter was important. She composed herself and pointed out the window. "Nidhogg, there's an intruder outside. They're approaching. I'm here to warn you."