Goler

“Thank you, my friend,” said a heavily built, scar-faced man dressed as a swordsman, expressing his gratitude to the cloaked figure in front of him.

“It's all your fault, Dalic. You just had to go deep into the forest, and we were almost mauled to death by those mana wolves. Hurry up and thank him!” A young girl nearby patted the brown-haired youth beside her before also expressing her thanks to the cloaked figure ahead.

Judging by the girl's attire and staff, she was a standard Mage Apprentice.

“How is it my fault? Didn't you all...” The youth named Dalic scratched his head and muttered somewhat reluctantly. Nonetheless, he called out to the cloaked figure, “Benefactor, why don't we treat you to a meal!”

He figured that this cloaked swordsman, who could slay seven or eight mana wolves with a single strike, must be a powerful Senior Professional, perhaps even a High Professional.

Seizing this opportunity, even if he couldn't become his apprentice, he had to build a good relationship.

“No need,” the cloaked figure spat out without turning back.

“Then how can we show our gratitude?” The scar-faced swordsman wanted to step forward, but he was briefly deterred by the cloaked figure's aura.

“Do more good deeds. Also, remember to practice more when you go back. Next time, you might not be so lucky to meet someone willing to help you.”

After leaving behind those rather harsh words, the departing cloaked figure leaped and vanished from the trio's field of vision.

“It's all your fault, Dalic! You drove him away,” the mage girl smacked Dalic on the back of his head again, looking quite annoyed.

“How is that my fault...” Dalic muttered. He felt like he hadn't come here to be a warrior, but rather to be a scapegoat...

“Alright, Nana, they're already gone.” The scar-faced swordsman stopped the girl's unreasonable nagging. “Perhaps this is what they call doing a good deed without seeking fame.”

“What a pity, I didn't even get to see his face. He must be a very handsome swordsman.” At that thought, the mage girl suddenly became somewhat bashful.

“Maybe he's just ugly and hiding his face...” Dalic muttered under his breath. Unsurprisingly, he received another smack from the mage girl.

“Shut up! He must be a handsome guy who just doesn't like showing his face...”

...

The departing cloaked figure naturally did not know of the trio's subsequent arguments and speculations.

Of course, even if he did, he would probably only laugh it off.

Suddenly, as the cloaked figure reached the river, he stopped and looked up at a small black dot in the sky.

“A gryphon?!” the cloaked figure muttered to himself in confusion.

He only found it strange. How could a creature like a gryphon appear in the northern Forest of Monsters?

The direction it was flying in... also seemed somewhat familiar.

“Oh no!” The cloaked figure seemed to realize something, and he quickly sprinted forward along the river.

As he ran, the cloak's hood blew back in the wind, revealing the true face hidden beneath it.

This face was not handsome, but it bore no scars.

Had that young girl seen it, she would probably have screamed in terror, perhaps even drawing her weapon.

For this was a green face.

The pointed ears and long nose revealed its identity—this was a goblin!

Nobody would have ever imagined that a goblin's demeanor and posture could be more human than humans, and even its speech and tone were in perfectly standard Engodo!

If not for its green skin, people might have even believed it if it claimed to be an elf.

“Goler...”

Suddenly, a massive crocodile burst out of the nearby river, blocking the path of this unique goblin.

“Te... Teacher!” The goblin named Goler stopped in his tracks; he recognized the crocodile's identity.

It was a textbook mana-swamp crocodile; the only difference was its deep blue eyes.

The human words from earlier had come from it as well.

Of course, the species of the crocodile did not matter; what mattered was its voice—it was his teacher's voice.

This meant that this crocodile was one of his teacher's magic pets. Goler remembered that his teacher had at least five more of these mana-swamp crocodiles.

“Goler, why are you in such a rush? Have you investigated the destruction of those nests recently?” the mana-swamp crocodile spoke in human tongue and asked.

“My apologies, Teacher... I just wanted to return early. I have a general idea about the recent nest destructions. It seems to be primarily the work of a human Martial Apprentice named ‘Gourmet’—he seems to harbor a profound hatred for us.”

Goler's words were filled with sincerity.

No one would have guessed the superficiality hidden deep within his heart.

In truth, Goler had never regarded those creatures who only knew how to burn, kill, and plunder as his kind...

To him, those beasts driven entirely by desire deserved whatever deaths they met, no matter how many of them died.

“Very well, Goler... You haven't neglected your swordsmanship lately, have you?” the controller of the mana-swamp crocodile asked with concern.

After all, Goler was a rare powerhouse among goblins.

No matter how weak a race was, a few outstanding individuals could always emerge. Once these individuals matured, their potential, wisdom, and power would not be inferior to those of legendary races.

Humans called such individuals natural-born heroes.

Goler was precisely such an individual.

It could be said that he was a natural-born hero among goblins.

Whether in terms of intelligence, thoughts, morality, or strength, he had already transcended the limitations of the goblin race.

“Goler has never slackened...”

“Very good... In that case, do not go out lately. There seems to be some movement on the humans' side, likely in preparation for a beast tide. We must also prepare early... I will avenge your grievances—those ogres won't be gloating for much longer. Do not be impatient. Drop all other matters and focus on practicing your swordplay.”

The controller's main intent through the mana-swamp crocodile was to warn Goler not to cause trouble recently.

“Yes, Teacher,” Goler nodded, responding seriously.

But a chill ran through his heart—he had just been warned...

Indeed, Goler and this so-called teacher did not share the same vision. There was an instinctive resistance deep within him.

Was it because of his ‘teacher's’ delusions of ruling over elves and humans? Or perhaps his practice of treating their own kind as disposable material?

It was likely a bit of both.

In short, Goler did not like this so-called teacher; he merely submitted to the teacher's power.

‘Perhaps in this “teacher's” eyes, I am nothing more than a high-grade material,’ Goler thought to himself.

“Go back...” Having delivered the command, the mana-swamp crocodile dove back into the river.

Only then could Goler continue rushing forward.

‘I hope nothing has happened to the village...’ Goler could only hope that his assumptions and the foreboding in his heart were merely illusions.

Vengeance and such, though important, were nothing compared to the village—for it held all of his hopes.

‘With Goriefus around, everything should be fine...’

As Goler thought of that ‘brother’ who shared a similar background to his, a slight smile appeared on his green face.

Having a true companion of his own kind was wonderful.

He had always cherished this brotherhood. He believed that one day, he would lead his brother and his followers to bring goblins into true civilization.

Goler believed that one day, he would enable goblins to stand on equal footing with dwarves and elves, no longer relying on pillaging, but coexisting with humans as equals...

One day...

Probably...

“Who is it! Who did this?!”

The shattering and collapse of dreams often occurred in a mere instant...

‘Goblins also have their own savior.’

Goler had never forgotten his promise to his fellow villagers...

But now, that promise would never come to fruition.

“Why... why did they have to take my family away from me again?! Ah! Why?!”

Holding Goriefus's cold corpse, Goler walked over to the giant tree.

He looked up at the great tree, recalling the memories of the promises they had made together beneath it.

...

‘You speak the human tongue too? What a coincidence. Were you raised by humans like I was...’

‘My name is Goler. From now on, I will be your elder brother. Stop plundering, and come build a village with me...’

‘I believe we can live very well even without relying on plundering...’

Gazing at the corpses scattered across the ground, Goler's clear eyes gradually turned blood-red...

“Go...” A goblin who had lost the lower half of its body suddenly let out a sound from among the heap of corpses.

Goler whipped his head around. Staring at the dying goblin, he asked word by word in the goblin tongue.

“My fellow clansman, tell me—who did this?!”

“Lu... %...”

Unfortunately, Goler received no answer. The moment the goblin laid eyes on Goler, its remaining life force fully drained away; its struggle moments ago had been nothing more than an obsession and a final burst of consciousness.

It was only when Goler drew closer that he discovered this goblin had already used its blood to draw a pattern on the ground.

That pattern was a strange mask—

A striped mask.

...