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Rise Of The Goblin King
Chapter 6 : Fight or Fall

Chapter 6 : Fight or Fall

The forest around me was thick, the trees casting long shadows over the dirt path we trod upon. My thirty goblin subordinates followed closely behind, their eyes gleaming with anticipation, their breaths shallow and quick. Each of them had tasted power through our chaotic blood hunts, and now they sought power just like me.

The village we approached was surprisingly close, much closer than I initially expected. Nestled within a hollow between two hills, it was small, almost unimpressive at first glance. But even from a distance, I could sense the tension within. According to the reports I had gathered, it was home to fifty warriors, along with thirty others—old goblins and newborns unable to fight.

Goblins weren’t like humans; they didn’t have families or bonds. They existed for the hunt, for the kill, taking what they needed without regard. I had learned long ago that they sustained themselves by raiding other races, kidnapping their females, and breeding more goblins in twisted rituals. It was savage, but in the world of goblins, it was efficient. Pragmatic.

We moved through the dense underbrush silently, scouting the perimeter of the village. From what I could see, it had once belonged to humans—or some other humanoid race. Old fences and large, weather-worn buildings littered the village. The goblins now squatting in those homes seemed out of place, their small forms total opposite to the oversized structures.

Surprisingly, there were very few adult goblins milling about. Even after circling the village, I couldn’t find more than a handful of fully grown warriors. Where were the rest? Where was their strength? No Goblin Baron was in sight either, and the absence of leadership hinted at disarray. Could the village have fallen into ruin?

Then, the silence broke.

From the north-west gate, the noise of returning warriors echoed through the trees. My sharp eyes caught sight of them—a platoon of goblins led by an armored goblin rare wielding a longsword. Its armor clinked faintly as it marched at the head of the group, with about twenty goblins following close behind. Among them were strange beasts that looked like wolves who dragged their prey—fresh kills from a hunt.

So, this was their strength. The Goblin Baron, their leader, wielded a longsword with the confidence of someone who believed he was in control. But I could tell, even from this distance, that he was weaker than me. His aura was faint, barely a flicker compared to the blazing inferno since I evolved into a Goblin Viscount.

With a broad grin spreading across my face, I turned to my followers. "We’re entering the village from the front."

A ripple of excitement passed through the group, but I kept my own excitement restrained. There was no need to rush, no need to throw ourselves into battle without assessing the situation first. If there were other goblin platoons nearby, I would deal with them after securing this village.

We stepped out of the forest and onto the dirt path, walking toward the gates. The goblins stationed at the entrance immediately spotted us and raised a commotion, their shrieks filling the air as they scrambled to react. I walked slowly, deliberately. Not rushing, but not lingering either, exuding the calm authority of a king. Fear was already spreading among them like a plague, and I intended to capitalize on that.

"Gu… gurururu!" The Goblin Baron’s shriek of fear was unmistakable as I approached. His long sword trembled in his hand, the metal reflecting the midday sun. He didn’t even try to mask his terror. He barked orders, his voice rising in panic, but his warriors hesitated, their fear too great to be overridden by loyalty or duty.

I stopped just a few paces from him and tilted my head slightly, looking down on him with a cold smile. "Are you the king of this group?"

The Goblin Baron hesitated, stepping back as if the weight of my presence alone was enough to crush him. His armor rattled from his shaking form, and he avoided my gaze, barely able to hold the sword in his trembling hands.

"So, it’s you?" My voice, loud and commanding, echoed through the village. The sheer force of it caused several goblins to collapse, their legs giving out from the overwhelming pressure. Even those who didn’t fall outright were visibly shaken, their fear evident.

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For a moment, he said nothing, his grip tightening on his sword. Then, with a guttural growl, he forced out a response. "I… am…"

The words barely left his mouth before I cut him off. "You were."

I stepped forward, closing the distance between us in an instant. My hand shot out, gripping his throat with a strength that made his eyes bulge in shock. He gasped, his sword clattering to the ground, his body convulsing as I lifted him off his feet.

"You’re nothing now," I whispered, tightening my grip. "This village is mine."

The goblins watching trembled, their resolve breaking. One by one, they dropped their weapons, their heads bowed in submission. Fear had already won the battle for me.

With a swift motion, I slammed the Goblin Baron into the ground, the force of the impact sending a shockwave through the earth. He gasped, blood trickling from his lips as he lay there, broken and defeated. I looked down at him, my expression one of cold indifference.

"Submit, or die," I said, my voice echoing through the village.

In a world ruled by strength, there was no room for hesitation. Only by demonstrating absolute dominance would I cement my position.

For a brief moment, I saw a flicker of defiance in his eyes. His hand twitched, as if considering raising his sword, as if some primal survival instinct might kick in. But then it passed, replaced by the hollow look of a creature who knew he was beaten.

His shoulders slumped, and with a groan of defeat, he fell to his knees, his forehead pressed against the earth in a gesture of complete submission. "My king. I offer you my everything."

I chuckled darkly, stepping over to the kneeling Goblin Baron. "Then I’ll accept."

I turned, casting my gaze over the village as I raised my voice to a shout, one that would reach every ear, both near and far. "From this moment forward, I am the king of this village."

The proclamation hung in the air, heavy with finality. For a moment, the entire village stood still—no movement, no sound, not even a breath, but I could feel it. A tangible wave of submission was rolling through the goblin ranks as they instinctively recognized me as their new leader. The Goblin Baron had completely yielded, and so too did his followers.

But just as the triumph settled within me, a sudden pulse of energy rippled through the air. My body tensed, and every sense heightened. Something was coming.

Out of nowhere, a soft, ethereal light began to form in front of me. At first, I thought it was an illusion, a trick of the light, or perhaps my own mental exhaustion playing tricks.

But no, the shimmering form began to take shape, slowly solidifying into a small, winged creature. It was no larger than my fist, its body made of faint, glowing mist. Its wings fluttered, but they made no sound as it hovered before me, staring with eyes that held far more wisdom than its size suggested.

"Congratulations," it said, its voice echoing within my mind rather than through the air. "You have been chosen."

I blink, taken aback. This was no ordinary apparition. The aura it radiated was different, more potent, and more real than anything I had ever encountered.

"Chosen?" I repeated, narrowing my eyes. The immediate instinct was to swat the creature away, but something held me back.

The spirit nodded, its expression calm, as though it had delivered this message countless times before. "Yes. You are one of the selected, marked by the gods. They have been watching you, and they are... entertained."

"Entertained?" I echoed, suspicion lacing my voice. The spirit's words seemed absurd.

The spirit’s gaze grew more intense, its small form radiating a faint glow that illuminated the area around me. "The gods are beings beyond mortal comprehension. They reside in a realm far removed from this world—an eternal, unchanging place known as the Celestial Realm. It is said that they once walked among mortals, influencing the world, but over time, they grew weary of the tedium of life and withdrew, leaving the world to its own devices. Yet, even in their eternal existence, they found themselves bored. Immortal, powerful, but unchallenged."

"To them, this world and its people are nothing more than a stage—a game, if you will. That is where the Chosen Ones come into play. They select individuals, like yourself, to act as their champions, their pieces in this grand contest. You will fight against others like you, chosen for the amusement of the gods. The prize? Supremacy. The one who stands above all will control the fate of this world."

I absorbed its words, my mind racing to piece together this new information. Boredom? That was their reason for this? My fists clenched at the thought. They toyed with us out of boredom. But I wasn’t just any pawn. I had ambitions beyond their shallow games.

"They watch us like some kind of entertainment," I muttered, my voice dripping with disdain. "And we fight for their amusement."

"Yes," it said simply. "But for you, this is also an opportunity. Those who rise above the rest in this contest can wield powers beyond what any mortal can dream. The gods reward their Chosen Ones not only with power but with knowledge and influence. The stronger you become, the more their attention focuses on you. And should you surpass the others, you may even have the chance to challenge the gods themselves."

That caught my attention. My grip on my sword loosened slightly as I considered the possibilities. Challenge the gods themselves...

The spirit, sensing the shift in my emotions, continued. "The gods may be powerful, but they are bound by rules. Even they cannot intervene directly. They can only act through their Chosen Ones—through you. If you ascend high enough in their game, if you prove your worth, there are chances that a Chosen One could claim the power of the gods themselves. It is rare, but it has been done."

My eyes gleamed at the thought. The idea of reaching a point where I could defy even the gods—it was too good to be true.

"And what if I refuse?" I asked, my voice dangerously low.

The spirit gave a soft laugh, an eerie sound that echoed through the silent village. "You cannot refuse. Once chosen, you are bound to the gods' will. Their eyes are upon you now, and your every action will be judged. Whether you like it or not, you are a part of this. You can either fight... or be crushed."

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