While Manasei scoured the forest for food, back in the goblin village, a tense discussion unfolded inside one of the larger huts.
Seated at the head of a rectangular wooden table was a tall, lanky goblin draped in a purple cloak. Unlike the others, his aura radiated authority and a faint air of menace. Beside him rested a staff carved from gnarled wood, crowned with a black orb that shimmered faintly in the dim light.
The goblins gathered around the table were bulkier and more brutish, their rough faces betraying unease as they glanced toward the robed goblin. Their apprehension was palpable, laced with a trace of fear.
"Oh, great Magi," one of the larger goblins began cautiously, his deep voice measured. "It's only a matter of time before we have to set out for the 'task.' Is it wise to waste manpower chasing after a myth?"
The room erupted in murmurs. Most of the goblins nodded in agreement, their voices overlapping in shared dissent.
But the robed goblin remained still, his yellow eyes narrowing as he surveyed the room. He let the noise build before finally speaking.
"Silence."
The single word cut through the air like a blade. Instantly, the room fell quiet, the brutish goblins shrinking under his piercing gaze.
"Look at you brutes," the Magi sneered, "Always prattling on about the 'task,' as if that alone defines your purpose. Tell me, who among the Green Flood Village has become a magi besides me?"
He paused, letting his words hang in the silence. The goblins exchanged uneasy glances but said nothing.
"Yes, tasks are important," he continued, his tone softening to an almost eerie calm. "It is the sole reason for our existence. But the method by which we achieve that goal is just as crucial. Without strategy, you're nothing more than mindless beasts."
Some of the goblins rubbed their heads in confusion, clearly grappling with his words. A few mimicked a thoughtful pose, resting their thumb and index finger on their chins as though deep in contemplation.
shaking his head in disappointment. "Fools," he muttered under his breath, though loud enough for them to hear.
"You brutes don't need to concern yourselves with the specifics," the purple-robed Magi said, his voice cold and commanding. "Just ensure the outskirts are surveyed thoroughly. I want us to move deeper into the forest before the next 'melody.'"
The mention of the word made the goblins pale. One of them, emboldened by fear, rose to his feet, mouth opening to protest. But he froze in place, silenced by the icy glare the Magi leveled at him.
After a tense moment, the Magi sighed,"I know we need numbers to complete the 'task.' But if we find that place and secure that relic, we will receive aid from none other than Viscount Balsco himself."
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His words caused a ripple of shock among the goblins, who exchanged skeptical glances. One finally broke the silence. "You… are you saying this strange mission was ordered by a Viscount?"
The hut fell quiet. Most of the goblins here knew the Magi from their shared origins in the same "breeding village." Though goblins were not inclined to independent thought, this one had always been an exception. His cunning and individuality had set him apart, earning him respect and fear. To hear that he had dealings with a Viscount, a demon of vastly superior rank, was shocking.
The Magi's thin smile returned as he saw their stunned expressions. "Yes. The Viscount himself gave me this order and promised to lend his personal assistance for the upcoming task. Perhaps, some of you seated at this very table will even rise to become like me, a variant soldier goblin."
At these words, the beady eyes of the goblins lit up, glinting with greed. The room buzzed with fervor, the earlier resistance melting away.
"Even if we must venture into the deepest abyss of cursed beasts, this forest will not stop us!" one of the goblins declared, slamming his fist on the table.
A chorus of agreement erupted from the others.
The robed Magi observed the shift with a sheepish smile, his narrowed eyes gleaming with satisfaction. Everything was falling into place.
The robed goblin raised his hand, his long fingers cutting through the excited chatter. "Now that you understand, keep things as they are. Notify me immediately if anything unusual occurs."
The goblins nodded obediently, rising from their seats and filing out of the hut. The meeting was adjourned.
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Manasei moved cautiously through the crimson-hued forest, his sharp eyes scanning the terrain for anything edible. The oppressive atmosphere pressed on him, but his focus didn't waver. He knew this dungeon's objective could remain active for days, and the last thing he wanted was to face the dangers of this forest while weakened by hunger.
His stomach growled loudly, a harsh reminder that it had been nearly a full day since his last meal. The physical toll of his ordeal weighed heavily on him. Between the grueling battles and the loss of his arm, his energy reserves were depleted. He felt lightheaded, his body screaming for sustenance. If he didn't eat soon, exhaustion might claim him before the forest's many predators did.
After what felt like an eternity, his eyes landed on something promising. A strange, purple fruit hung from a low branch, its surface dotted with irregular brown spots. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.
Still keeping his guard up, Manasei carefully plucked the strange fruit from the branch. It resembled a peach, though its deep purple hue and mottled brown spots set it apart.
He turned it over in his hands, inspecting it closely. Hunger clawed at him, eroding his caution. Before his rational mind could protest, he took a tentative bite.
The first taste brought no immediate reaction, easing his anxiety. The fruit's flesh was sour, almost uncomfortably so, biting at his cheeks and tongue. But moments later, a wave of sweetness followed, coaxing him into taking another bite, then another.
Before long, the fruit was gone. It hadn't been much, but Manasei felt an unexpected fullness settle over him.
Wait… this isn't right. Even if i am starving, I shouldn't have been so desperate to ea-....
Before he could finish the thought, a searing pain erupted in his stomach, tearing through his entire body. Manasei doubled over, his knees buckling as he nearly bit his tongue in agony. A strangled growl escaped his throat, his attempts to suppress the scream barely succeeding.
He keeled forward, spitting violently. Something brown and wet hit the forest floor, glistening with saliva. Manasei's vision blurred as the thing began to writhe and shift.
It transformed before his eyes, its grotesque body twisting into a vaguely purple bug with sharp pincers.
The brown spots…!
The realization hit him like a blow, but it was too late. The poison from the ants flooded his system, sending fire coursing through his veins. His skin turned a sickly purple as bulging veins became stark against his flesh. The pain was overwhelming, threatening to rob him of consciousness.
Manasei clung desperately to the edges of his awareness, knowing that giving in now could mean his end...