I couldn’t say no.

They were too fucking sincere.

I probably should have just pressed on. I probably should have said I was going to take their treasure when I came back or something like that but… but I just couldn’t say no to their sincerity.

Anyway, the sun was gone and night was setting in.

“How do we know if Hermons come?” I said.

“You won’t,” the fishman said. “Hermons do not enter goblin village, unless it’s absolutely necessary.”

“Why?”

“Too dirty. They have solid feces….” His face paled at the thought but he somehow resisted his gag reflex.

“I wouldn’t normally be here either,” Roksha said. “But they’re a far cleaner kind of people than I’d assumed.”

“They seem fine to me,” I said. “Besides, everyone above ground also has…um- solid feces.”

“Yes, filthy!” the fishman declared.

“Pissing poop, and swimming in it is also pretty filthy.”

“Huh? We don’t swim in it,” the fishman smirked. “We have filters!”

“Of course forcing another individual to filter out your shit isn’t filthy at all, isn’t that right Mr. Fishman.”

His tusks shook. Mad, I guess.

“Stop arguing,” The mermaid grumbled.

I rolled my eyes. “Discriminating against the solidarity of poop, never thought I’d see the day, honestly. But I suppose I should have expected no less from us. We’re the most stupid fucks that ever walked the earth.”

“Agreed,” the fishman said. “You lot are stupid.”

“That definition includes you, and the mermaid too. I’m calling everyone stupid.”

His tusks again shook. This time not out of anger? Blushed lips. Oh, our fish friend was embarrassed. Heh!

“Can you put an end to your stupid discussion? I really just want to sleep!” Roksha declared.

“Sure, sure.”

***

The next morning wasn’t that different. The same eating and drinking routine. I barely drank anything though; just a sip to gauge the taste.

A salty, fermented grape juice- that’s what it tasted like to me. But a bit richer maybe? And a bit bitter too. I kind of liked the taste but I could smell the alcohol in it, so I decided to just try the fresh juice instead.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Or I wanted to try it… after seeing how they were making it… I decided it was best for me to erase that bit from my mind too.

I explored the village with Daine.

The village had rocky areas and hills. Everything was covered with bamboo.

“Don’t you eat the bamboo shoots?” I said.

They had way, way too much bamboo.

“Why an earth would we eat our house?”

“No, no, the shoots. You have too much bamboo. So eating a few, while keeping the rest, isn’t a bad idea.”

“How do you even eat bamboo?”

“Well, see this shoot, you first wrap the thing with something black and constrict its growth. It’ll swell, and after a while you can just cut the thing and eat it like a vegetable.”

“Is it delicious?”

“I’ve only had once when I was in China. It was pretty alright.”

“China? Is that a city above?”

“Something like that…” Fuck.

Lately, I’d gotten a bit too lax about the shit I said.

Night was a bit different this time. We didn’t fight and the goblins provided us with some fresh fruit salads. No, not just Honeycrisps but all sorts of topical berries and fruits. They looked familiar but different shaped. Most berries tasted like grape- with added flavorings. Then again, most berries tasted like grapes to me back on earth too, so oh well.

After our little feast, we turned in for the night.

Day three to five was pretty much the same. I tried the whole constricting and expanding space thing but I lacked the talent or so Daine said and that went nowhere. I refused to give up and exhausted all my mana though, not that I had much to begin with.

Although this village didn’t have a library, they did share their views on gods and particularly on Slovia, who, they claim was a harlot goddess going around having children left and right. Sadly they didn’t have much information on Askavan or the church.

I noticed, I really didn’t need to pass my bowel, at least for the first three days but then… then I had to. ARGHH!!!

It was day six when the fun really began.

I’d leave tomorrow morning, so they were going all out. Not only had they decorated the whole village with lit pyres (I actually stopped questioning all that shit a while ago), they also had hundreds of stalls. Stalls full of weapons, armor, and different kinds of accessories.

Goblin society didn’t have any currency. They mostly just lived for the clan, and died for it too. They valued the clan over individual success. Of course, there were selfish goblins, but for the most part, this was a united village.

The things on display were for sale. Mostly via bartering but also by promises. Promise to help each other, promise to share provisions when things got rough or something along those lines. I suppose those were pseudo currencies?

“These weapons are pretty interesting,” Roksha said.

Strings. At least they looked like strings to me; a bundle of them. But apparently, they were very, very thin and sharp strings that you could set up like wire traps. I suppose, they were wire traps.

“Those look more interesting to me,” The fishman said.

Axes, giant clubs and huge swords. Like really big and heavy stuff. I’d have to be reborn twice to be able to even think about wielding stuff like that. Even Alustur was probably going to have trouble properly swinging those things around. No, Alustur would be fine. Dude was a literal monster.

“What about you, Sol?” Roksha said. “What interests you the most?”

“The armor,” I said.

Red and black, red and white striped, and even just red stuff. They made armor, shoulder guard, vests, shin guards, and even pants out of the shrimp’s stuff. Okay, maybe the pants were just made with typical goblin cloth but yeah, things here were really nice.

“You can just take any you like,” a stall vendor said. “My son wouldn’t be back if it weren’t for you.”

A lot of people had said that to me. Made me a feel good about myself, special even.

But at the same time… sad. If I didn’t stay here, many would die the next hunt. But even if I stayed here, at least some would die.

People would always die no matter what. If you wanted to live, you had to find food. If you wanted food, you had to hunt. If you were hunting, there was a chance you could die. And even if you didn’t die, the thing you hunt, is definitely dying.

In the end, it was a matter of survival of the fittest. Always had been.

And that’s why- “I’m not a good judge of armor. Please help me pick something that’d help me stay alive the longest.”