Half of the plan went perfect. I used the time they give me for sunlight as an excuse. The only difference being that I pretended I was having a breakdown. The sudden magical surge from my eye helped make them fall for the distraction.

The guards waiting outside came running, including Zamayular. I gave the gray goblin kids just enough time to sneak out the cave, carrying ores already broken down by Snaray’s people, as well as a few messages for my friends.

Even so, the kids got caught, investigated. Snaray was able to explain that the multiple fractured ores they were holding were there as practice. Extra weight to make their bodies strong. The shapes carved across the small rocks were simple drawings in order to hone the kids’ ability to carve through rock and metal.

Simple drawings used as a disguise. I decided that the best way to communicate with Sylvar was the use of dwarvish runes.

The existence of the rocks themselves were not that surprising, thankfully. The kids were given slings, a weapon of considerable range and effective strength. The rocks were simply ammunition. Zamayular himself was fooled, even though he was more focused on controlling the magic escaping my body.

That discovery alone was worth the plan. Zamayular has a way of shutting down his opponent’s magic. The drawback is that he cannot focus on anything else, dedicating his own magic on his task. The condition on using his technique is that he has to be within arm’s length to use it. Interesting power.

Five days have passed since then. There is still so much to do but at least I know that my friends got the messages. The kids were instructed to use a whistling arrow to draw Sylvar’s attention, then leave their small satchels full of ores.

The messages were simple.

They are to patrol around the southwestern parts of the area. If the Queen sends me to help the goblins, that is where the problems are so that is where they will find me. It is also clear they are not to attack any goblins in an effort to gain information, since I am safe. For now.

Also, Snaray is a friend. For now.

Of course, there is a private message there just so they know it is actually me.

Still, Zamayular’s power could be extremely dangerous and I am certain that he has more abilities. As worrying as it is, the messages are through and I have other things to deal with.

The difficulty now lies in carrying out the rest of the plan, since it mostly relies on me. And my strength. Even though I have only one arm. Surrounded by enemies. Thank my luck. At least I am not as weak as the Volter who could barely hide the pain while talking to the Hunters.

There is a blessing in all this pain I go through. I cannot exactly explain it but I am sure I will figure it out soon.

“It has been hours. When are you going to stop training?” Snaray asks.

“Not yet.” I sigh.

“If anybody needs the rest, it is you.”

“I spent two weeks there. Two weeks.” I shout, practicing one handed slashes and stabs with a wooden sword. “I slept the entire first day. It has been, what, six days? We have had no word from the Queen. I need to keep training. Working out. Getting stronger.”

For the past five days, I have been training. Barely any rest. I have been trying to keep my mind sharp, my body strong. I might have also been trying to avoid the memories of torture flooding my life.

The weird thing is the reaction my body seems to be having these past few days.

The training here is different. The purpose is honed, the focus just as much. The point is not to just continue or maintain the teachings of others but to build upon them. Improve them. Figure out how they work for me. Especially now that one arm is injured.

If there is one thing that is certain, it is that I will have to fight even if I can only use my left arm.

“Are the holsters ready?” I ask.

“We can go and ask.” Snaray responds.

“Sure. Before that, care to spar?”

“No way. You are too strong for me.”

“Anybody else?” I shout.

Before long, three goblins join me.

“Do not hold back. If my right side is exposed, hit it.” I say, readying my stick.

If only I had Blago’s blades.

“Your injuries…” The old goblin healer sighs.

“They will be fine.” I chuckle. “I need to learn the hard way.”

My sparring partners look at the old goblin, probably waiting for some sort of approval. The healer nods, allowing them to fight properly.

“Pick whatever stick you want.” I say.

As soon as they feel comfortable enough, they start circling me. I get into position. Wide stance. Not too wide, just enough for my bent legs to be able to react properly. These goblins are fighters. I can tell. Not like the skirmishers I know of.

This is great.

I make the first move, raising the stick and delivering a downward strike on the left goblin. There is one on my left, one always visible on my center view and one on the right. They probably want to sneak in a few attacks, bring me to my knees before beating me.

My strike is only a feint, too weak to go through any proper defense. The left goblin deflects and moves backwards, widening its distance between us. I do not even have to look to my right. I already know the right goblin is trying to hit me. Thankfully, the center goblin is confused by my sudden rushing strike and does not react fast enough.

I spin leftwards, trying to use the stick as cover while I do so. My assumption is on point. The right goblin is already trying to take a swipe at me. Seeing me spin, it changes its attack pattern from a high swipe to a low one.

I jump away, approaching the left goblin. I take a stab at it, trying to keep it engaged, so it cannot move away from me. It is smart enough to know that if it tries to, I can easily hit it. The center goblin lunges at me, trying to connect a downward strike. It is probably aiming for my right shoulder, hoping I will try to deflect it.

If I do that, my defense will not be strong enough and the goblin’s attack will just slide down my body. Instead, I just dive into the attack. This way, I block it properly. I use the strength of my legs to push it back. As soon as the goblin drops down, I kick it with my left leg, aiming for the right goblin.

I am sure Meuko is proud of the kick. Proper form. The right goblin jumps over the middle one, leaving it gasping for air. The kick is enough to convince it to stay down.

Two left.

From the corner of my eye, I notice the left goblin darting towards me. I instinctively throw my stick at it but it manages to deflect it. I charge it, stopping only at the very last step, baiting it into attacking me. The moment its diagonal attack ends, I grab the arm that holds the weapon and deliver a kick in its abdomen.

The goblin lets out a forced gasp, saliva running down its mouth. Before I have a chance to wrestle the weapon away, I feel pressure on my spine.

“Close.” The right goblin says, holding the stick against me.

“Not close enough, though.” I pant.

Snaray claps, joined by the rest of the goblins.

“Look at the Troll-Killer. One armed and still going strong.” Snaray shouts.

“To the Troll-Killer.”

“Troll-Killer.”

“Hope the Queen does not kill this one.”

Various celebratory shouts fill the mines. I am sure that since it is the evening, there will be plenty of drinking. The goblins feast differently than we do in the Village. Where we give each person their bowl of food and an assortment of fruits and seeds, they place large stone discs in the middle of the ground. Then, A mess ensues.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

As usual, they have chosen the place where I sleep to have a feast. If the gray goblins are anything, they are obsessed with newcomers. Or they are trying to make sure the enemy guards cannot get too close and eavesdrop by crowding the place.

“Dig in.” A gray hobgoblin says, placing a food disc next to my bed, as the kids around me, of course, dig in.

“Here you go.” Snaray says, offering me a small bowl.

“There better be more where that came from.” I respond, immediately turning the bowl over my mouth.

I find that the most effective technique to eat. Meuko was right. Especially after hours and hours of training.

“The spinning. How did you come up with that?” One of the goblins I fought asks.

Recognizing goblins is slightly easier, the absence of names still making it hard to distinct between them. The gray goblins have thicker skulls and brownish coloration in their irises. They seem to be mostly hunters, butchers and crafters.

“It was not intentional. I just let the momentum guide me. It was the only way to interrupt your attack in time, while still gaining a position to keep the pressure on the other goblin. Having one arm and all.” I explain.

“You are still going on and on about that arm. Have mercy on us.” Snaray mocks.

“You try it.” I chuckle.

“The kick was great too. There-” The gray goblin keeps talking but the voices around me grow muffled.

Everything moves so fast. The torturing, the helping, the training. I seem to jump from moment to moment, never reaching a safe place.

As if confirming the state of my mind, the distant shouting and smashing of crates reminds me what we need to do.

“Ready?” Snaray asks me.

“This is it. You better not leave me to die.” I look at the goblins around me.

Putting trust into the hands of people that are known to betray. Kindness or desperation?

“Where is he?” A known raging voice… Daldrag.

“Right here.” I raise my arm.

I look above us, noticing multiple goblins scurrying closer to us. Purple, blue, green. They want to see this. I cannot even imagine the stress Snaray lives under. Your home being invaded by people who are supposed to be on your side, constantly watching you.

“Scatter.” I say to Snaray’s daughter, pointing at the kids.

She immediately takes lead, guiding them away from here.

For this to work, I cannot avoid Daldrag’s attacks. I definitely cannot hit him with magic. I have to show my weakness. All of it.

“What did you do?” Daldrag pushes past the gray guards, despite their struggling.

“Specifics would help. Just charging here and asking me random questions does not really he-”

Daldrag grabs me by the throat, interrupting me. I guess the choking part is more important.

“They moved. Your people moved. Right after you showed your face here.” Daldrag throws me against the wall.

“I was here the whole time. Never left. Ask Zamayular. Am I also to blame for the actions they took when I was being tortured? How about the night I spent running away from you?” I ask, trying to get back up.

My shoulder is killing me. So much pain.

“Do not talk back, you pathetic bone sack.” Daldrag growls.

They have bones as well, right? Also, this reminds me of Blago’s insults.

Focus.

Come on. Hit me once more. Just once.

“You sure do a lot of walking around. Are you just the messenger or just trying to cut some of your extra weight?”

In what seems like a flash of a moment, gone too quick to even realize it, Daldrag throws a bowl of food straight at me, hitting my chest and leaving me out of breath. The shame of the moment alone is enough to make a few goblins laugh, somewhere deeper into the cave.

Gasping, I chuckle to myself. I might be able to pull this off.

“I am ready. I am ready to do whatever your Queen wants me to do.” I say.

“In your hopeless state?” Daldrag say.

Some of the enemy goblins laugh harder, trying to push through Snaray’s people, who in turn keep them away. I do need them to keep Daldrag and I together. Away from unpredictable goblins. Or straight up hostile.

“Then let me prove it. A fight. You like those, do you not?” I ask, standing up.

“I would crush you in but the beating of a heart.” Daldrag snarls.

“Four goblins. Of the ones that hate me. That way, you know they are not holding back.” I move towards Daldrag, pointing with my finger.

Thanks to Snaray, I know enough to separate four specific gray goblins from the rest.

“You.” I point.

Bone earrings that extend below the shoulders.

“You.”

Wears a cape made of deer skin and shoulder pads with buck antlers.

“You.”

Cracked helmet meant to terrify others and bright yellow eyes.

“And you.”

Scar along the side of the head, never healed properly because of a severe burn suffered soon after.

The gray goblins I point at raise their heads in reaction, not knowing what just happened. I huff heavily, trying to stay upright, even if my feet are hurting right now.

The rest of the goblins gathered here look at me and the four goblins, waiting for what is next as if their lives depend on it.

“You would not hold back, am I wrong? In fact, you do not even want me here. This is your chance to prove I would be better off dead.” I say.

“You understand this is to the death.” Daldrag responds, gauging my confidence.

It is what I am counting on. Also, I am sure these four goblins were watching the fight. It is how Snaray and I set up the fight.

“Yes.” I answer.

“We should ask the Queen first.” Snaray mumbles.

“No. If he is not ready by now, he will be killed. Might as well do it today.” Daldrag chuckles.

“Not now. Tomorrow.” I sigh.

“You have delayed enough. You will not waste any more of our time.” Daldrag says.

“You would not want the gray goblins talking about how you lost a potential alliance because you were impatient and sent a human to a fight after deliberately harming them. Twice.” I grin.

Daldrag flexes his muscles. An attempt at self control or a show of dominance. I do not know which. I honestly do not care enough to find out.

“He fought earlier. It is why we are celebrating. It would ruin the taste of this feast.” The old goblin doctor says.

“We never agreed to the fight.” The gray goblin with the cracked helmet says.

I will name him Warrior. Just to know who he is.

I drop to the ground, breathing heavily and resting my head on the cave wall.

“Well. If they do not want the fight, I cannot force them.” I say.

“Are we allowed to do it for you, Daldrag? Kill him in the fight?” The goblin with the antlers says.

I will name him Hunter. No, Forager. Yes, I like that one.

“Yes. I would love to do it myself, but it would be hilarious to watch him die by your hand.” Daldrag responds.

Come on, fall for it. Just accept already. Come on.

“Then we do it.” The Forager says.

“What weapons?” The goblin with the bone earrings says.

He can be the Jeweler. I think Sylvar explained the word, even though I am not sure. But, it seems fitting.

“Anything you want as long as it can be used in a melee. No point in me proving myself if you all have bows. Right?” I say.

“Fine.” Daldrag says. “Any and all blades. To the death.”

“We are having a pit fight.” The goblin with the scar says, riling the rest of the goblins.

Scar seems like an obvious name. I will go with Scar.

“Pit fight.” Various groups shout, soon joined by goblins further down the cave.

“No other goblin carries a weapon. No interference will sully the outcome of the fight.” Snaray declares, sending some of his guard to spread the word.

“Tomorrow, then. After you have seen the sun for the last time. I am certain you will miss it.” Daldrag waves, walking deeper inside the cave system.

My four enemies walk away, discussing what I assume is strategy.

“So far so good.” I sit next to Snaray.

“It is a wonder he did not kill you when he threw you around.” Snaray chuckles.

“He could have thrown me at the pile of cracked and rotten crates. Cut my back and all that. Instead, he threw me against the wall. There is no way the Queen wants him to kill me like that. The fight simply gave him an excuse.” I explain.

“Why not just ask for an audience with the Queen?” The goblin doctor asks.

“I might be able to convince her and avoid the fighting. But you would still have gray goblins here that work against Snaray. I am trying to stop a war between the goblins and my Village. That means I do not need my allies fighting with one another. Taking down these four is my contribution. Gathering the rest of them and increasing your strength and influence is yours.” I say.

“And when you die?” Snaray asks.

“Ask for help from Sylvar. Or join your Queen. Do whatever you think suits you. But I am not dying. I am not losing this fight. Where is the equipment?” I start eating from the over-sized plates, joined by the rest of Snaray’s supporters.

“Not ready yet. By tomorrow, surely.” The doctor says.

“Your blacksmiths are my only hope. I cannot win against four goblins while injured and one armed.” I growl.

“They have been working day and night. But, I will make sure they understand what is at stake.” Snaray says, leaving.

“Are you going to rest?” The doctor says.

“Let me guess. I need it even though the sun is barely down.” I mock.

“Yes. You could die tomorrow. Snaray does not want that. I do not want that.” He responds.

“Me neither.” Snaray’s daughter says, eating next to me.

“You are back. Great. More importantly, what is a pit fight? Sounded specific.” I ask.

“When we are bored, we have fights in a pit. Against each other or animals. Even monsters. Keeps the spirits high.” The doctor explains.

Sounds brutal. And lethal. Who am I to judge? They have a completely different life compared to mine.

“What are you fighting? Over the other side of the mountains?” I ask.

“Our stories are a bit more complicated than just fighting.” The doctor sighs. “I would not even know where to begin.”

“Then, how about the Queen and her control over this place. How does she manage every goblin outpost?” I respond.

“She does not. Every goblin tribe makes its own decisions about its inner workings but must follow the Queen’s orders for the Migration and the Hunt.” The doctor explains.

“The what now? What are these?” My curiosity is not easily hidden.

“Your people have never told you about what happens outside?” Snaray’s daughter asks.

“Never. And it makes me angry whenever I think about it.”

“Around these greater parts, including the other side of the mountains, there was a violent burst of magic. One that brought about the very creation of the mountain range itself. About… Sixty years ago.” The doctor says.

What? The mountains were not there? T-Then, who put them there?

“Goblin tribes from every region gathered and decided to Migrate here, find the source of the magic. We are to use it for the whole species. The Queen that was in charge of the tribes died and a new one was put in her place. Then another. The one you know. Ever since then, she has felt the pressure of the tribes for the acquiring of the relic that caused this surge of magic.”

“Orenmir. Right, doctor?”

“Yes. The sword of an old legend. Unimaginative, if you ask me. A divine weapon. I guess the gods always wanted a blade keeping us in place.”

Blade of legend. Weird, region shaping magic, entire tribes of goblins. What is happening? I remember when things were simpler. No, they were not. They were the same. I was just weaker and had no knowledge of the events.

“… Ten years they traveled to get here.”

Shit. I lost a part of that.

“They fought humans, elves, dwarves, orcs, snake-people. So many others. Just to reach this place. But finding this relic proved more difficult. For fifty years, there has been no progress at all.”

“And how long has this Queen been the Queen?”

“Twenty five, I think.”

“Nobody has tried killing her yet?” I chuckle.

“Many have. But she is tough. One of the strongest sorcerers out there. After an attempt on her life, she gathered the strongest fighters from each tribe and made the Queen’s Guard. Fewer have tried since then.” The doctor explains.

“She sounds like she is good at being your Queen.” I say.

“She is terrifying.” Snaray’s daughter says.

“True.” I nod, remembering the days I spent in captivity. “I should better go to sleep. Rest, right?””

The conversation ends as abruptly as it started.

So many things to keep in mind. So little time to actually think about them.

Focus on the fight. Anything else is a distraction.

My body feels heavy as I land on my bed. I really feel tired.