Humans…

Elves…

Orcs…

Goblins…

Dwarves…

Fairies…

Dragons...

All once lived in harmony in the lands of Grimorio. All once thrived in their own domain. Magic—gift from the heavens to the mortals living below. A power to control the unseen forces of the world, to shape reality itself.

For thousands, all is well—all is peaceful—all is prosperous. But one day came along a rift—one that tore a hole in the fabric of reality. The realm of the mortals and the realm of the demons—connected as one.

Soon, the demons flowed into the mortal land that is Grimorio. Desecrating the greenery of the land, killing every creature in their path.

Led by their Dark Lord, the demons wiped out half of the mortal population in a matter of days. The survivors, thrown about the war-torn land, seeking refuge from the new tyrant that now ruled over Grimorio with an iron fist.

Mortals of all races, sizes, shapes, and forms banded under one union to resist and fight back against the demonic invasion.

Battle after battle, death after death, blood after blood, the mortals stood their ground against the overwhelming forces of evil—millions died within the first week alone.

Everywhere they look, burning corpses scattered across the land. Each day, the mortal population grew thinner. Each day, their extinction seemed more imminent.

And when they thought the war couldn't get any worse, the Dark Lord casts a powerful spell, turning all orcs, goblins, and other humanoids into mindless, bloodthirsty minions under his control.

The union of all races was quickly compromised when their comrades turned against them. Goblins eradicating humans, orcs slaying elves, and dwarves hunting dragons—everyone was on the brink of annihilation.

But just when all hope seemed lost, the gods and goddesses of heaven came down and blessed eleven mortals from the humans, elves, and dragons and granted them immense power that quickly turned the tide of war in their favor.

Dubbed the Eleven Holy Champions, they led one final assault on the Dark Lord's fortress. A battle so big, it leaves mountains cleaved and rivers blackened and after a long and ardious battle—the war finally came to an end.

The Dark Lord—was no more. His control over the dwarves, goblins, and orcs was broken, and peace was restored to the realm once more. But the humans, elves, and dragons didn't take their return lightly.

The leaders of each race came together to form a council, ensuring that the mistakes of the past would not be repeated, and before long, the dwarves, goblins, and orcs were banished from the open land of Grimorio.

A kill-on-sight order was put in place for any of these creatures found within the borders, and soon the banished creatures were forced to retreat to the dark and desolate lands beyond the mountains.

Dwarves found mines, orcs found swamps, and goblins found thick forest, each race carving out their own territories in the harsh wilderness, and decades later, the Eleven Holy Champions disbanded, never to be seen nor heard again.

Centuries later…

In the Bohemian forest south of the Empire of Fenficcia, four young goblins explored the outer region of their tribe's territory. Too old to be playing in the safety of the village but too young to join the adults hunting the wildlife for food.

They can only explore and observe the forest life from treetops and learn from the elders in the tribe.

"Elni, come on!" said Irglin. He pulled her by the arm and kept running through the dense underbrush.

"Okay, okay. You don't have to yell all the time," she replied, moving her feet as fast as she could to keep up with him. The other two young goblins followed closely behind them.

"Irglin, where are we going?" groaned Semphius, who was starting to feel tired from the long run.

"To the edge of the forest," replied Irglin. "Elder Rigvard told me about a weird hut on the outskirts of our territory, just past the waterfall."

"Waterfall? That's already outside our allowed boundaries, Irglin," said Elni. "My father will not be happy if he finds out we went that far."

"Your father is always furious," replied Hournas. "That's like his most prominent trait."

"Irglin, I'm gonna have to agree with Elni here," said Semphius. "The elders don't allow us to wander off too far from our territory for a reason. It's best we turn back before we get into trouble."

"She's right, Irglin. What if we run into a human, an elf, or even worse, dragons?" said Hournas. She didn't feel comfortable with the idea of encountering creatures from outside their territory. "Let's not risk it," she added, hoping to convince Irglin to reconsider.

"Oh, come on! It's just an old hut, there's nothing dangerous about an abandoned hut," Irglin argued, determined to explore further. "We'll be fine, trust me."

"See, that's where the problems begin," commented Hournas. "Trusting you is one of the many bad omens in our lives."

Not long after, they arrived at the streaming water falling from a rocky cliff, surrounded by lush greenery. The hut Irglin talked about was sitting in front of the waterfall and between two towering oak trees.

The wooden material was eaten away by time, and the roof was covered in moss.

"Irglin, before we go any further, what else did elder Rigvard tell you about that creepy hut?" asked Elni, concerned about the eerily silent atmosphere surrounding the dilapidated structure.

"Supposedly, there used to be a powerful witch who lived there centuries ago," Irglin replied, his eyes still beaming with curiosity. "Legend has it that she was one of the Eleven Holy Champions that led the assault on the Dark Lord's fortress during the war."

"A powerful witch? And what is she exactly?" asked Semphius.

"That's the thing, though. Not one person in the village knew what she looked like, what her powers were, or even what race she belonged to," Irglin continued.

"That sounds concerning, Irglin," Semphius replied, getting unease.

"Wait, say that again?" Elni asked.

"Which part?" Irglin replied.

"The one where you say the Eleven Holy Champions," Elni said.

"Oh! Yeah, like I said, it's been an urban legend between goblin tribes for centuries," Irglin explained. "But nobody has ever been able to confirm the truth behind it. The only one who saw her, supposedly, had already long passed away."

"So, it's just a story then," Elni concluded.

"I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss it as just a story," Irglin added. "Legends often have some basis in truth."

"And what truth does this one hold, eh, genius?" Hournas asked sarcastically.

"Look, all I know is that the witch bears the insignia of a puppet with magenta eyes," Irglin replied. "Some said they could hear swords unsheathing every time they walked past that hut. I don't know what leaf those people were smoking, but I'm too curious to sit this one out."

Irglin then turned to Hournas and said, "Hournas! You're the one with the super sharp eyes. Can you cast a spell to read whether that hut has been touched by magic?"

"Long distance screening is not something I'm particularly skilled at," Hournas replied, "but I can give it a try."

Hournas focused her gaze on the hut, her eyes glowing with a faint magical light as she concentrated on detecting any traces of magic that may have been left behind.

After a few moments, she shook her head and said, "There's definitely something strange about that hut, but I can't quite pinpoint what it is."

"Such as?" asked Semphius.

"Well, the hut does indeed have been touched by magic, but it's not from any of the spells I know. It's unfamiliar to me," she explained, furrowing her brow in concentration. "It has a four layered warding spell protecting it, and I could barely see traces of runes sribbled on the outer layer. It also has an anti scrying spell, multiple stacks of elemental protection spells, and an auto retalition spell—sheesh! Who built that hut, the gods themselves?!"

"Four layers? That's three layers too many for a simple hut in the woods. This is definitely something worth investigating further!" Irglin exclaimed, running off to the hut.

"Irglin, wait!" she called out, but he had already jumped off the waterfall. "Argh! What a dumbass!"

They followed him down the waterfall and chased him to the hut. Despite Hournas' anxiety, Irglin's curiosity only grew stronger as he took a step closer to the dilapidated hut.

"Shall we?" said Irglin, walking off.

"Irglin, wait!" Elni called out, but Irglin continued towards the hut.

Sneaking their way through the overgrown path, Elni, Semphius, and Hournas followed Irglin cautiously. As they approached the hut, a sense of unease washed over them as if someone's eyes were watching their every move.

Irglin gripped the knob of the door and slowly turned it before he was suddenly thrown back by a gust of wind that seemed to come from the keyhole in the door. He was thrown back a good distance and crashed into a pumpkin patch nearby, knocking over several pumpkins in the process.

"Irglin!" shouted Elni. She rolled him over and checked his gash on his forehead. Irglin groaned in pain and muttered, "D-Damn! What was that?"

Elni turned and looked at the hut again, momentarily noticing an eye peering out from the keyhole before quickly disappearing.

"I told you, Irglin. We shouldn't be here," Semphius said. He helped Irglin stand up while still chuckling at his misfortune.

"Argh. D-Did that witch live there?" Irglin asked, wincing as he touched his forehead.

"If she was, you wouldn't be breathing to ask that question," Semphius replied with a smirk.

"Haha! Very funny, you jerk," Irglin grumbled, still feeling the throbbing pain in his head.

"What do you think was that?" asked Hournas.

"Lucky for his stupid ass, that was only an elementary defense magic," replied Semphius. "Anything higher and our boy Irglin would have a broken rib and spew blood instead of words." Semphius chuckled, patting Irglin on the back. Irglin swated his hands in annoyance.

"Real funny, butthole."

"I think I saw an eye peering at us through the keyhole right after Irglin was thrown back," said Elni.

"An eye?" asked Hournas.

"Yeah, an eye. I don't know if I'm seeing things, but it definitely gave me the creeps," Elni shuddered. "Maybe we should leave now. I don't like the air here."

Irglin got back up and brushed off his body. "Alright. So a witch lives here, so what?"

"Are you stupid?" retorted Semphius. "Most witches are humans or highland elves! You know what the elders said about them. They don't take too kindly to our kind, fool. Remember, kill-on-sight?"

"That was centuries ago! Why are we younglings having to carry the sins of our ancestors?" Irglin argued.

"Brother, I'm saying this for our own safety, okay. Let's not risk international incidents by running into a human or elf. Let's get the heck out of here before something bad happens!" whispered Hournas.

Irglin scoffed at her concern and said, "I'm not scared of some puny humans or elves. We're goblins! We are physically superior to them in every way. Let's stay and show them who's boss."

He walked back to the hut and gripped the knob again. He took a deep breath and channeled his magic into the door.

"Open lock!"

The doorknob clicked, the pin must have been released. Irglin turned his head to his friend and smirked smugly. "Powerful witch, my butt! The locking mechanism is laughable." He then swung the door open and took a look at the interior of the hut.

Empty, rusted, dusty yet somehow feels warm despite its neglected appearance. "First come, first served!"

"Irglin, wait! Stupid!" Hournas shouted, but it was too late. Irglin had already stepped inside, looking around at the overhead beams and cobweb-covered furniture.

"It's perfect," he declared. "What do you say we claim this place as our own?"

"If bad ideas were a person, you'd be an entire town, Irglin!" snarked Semphius.

The young goblins walked around the hut, touching every dusty surface and inspecting the creaky floorboards. Semphius couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched, but Irglin seemed unfazed by the eerie atmosphere.

"Irglin! Come on, I have a bad feeling about this," Semphius whispered urgently.

"Relax, would you? This place is abandoned, no one's going to bother us," Irglin replied, grinning. "I mean, look at this! Look at how dusty this place is. No one has been here in ages," he added, pointing to the thick layer of dust covering everything in sight.

"No, I mean it! There's something really off about this place. Let's just finish up quickly and get out of here," Semphius insisted, his unease growing stronger.

Then a faint creak echoed right behind them. In surprise, they quickly turned around. Elni and Hournas stood there in panic, their hands shaking as they held up their stone dagger.

The creaking sound moved from their front to behind them again. They glanced at each other in dread as the creaking sound became increasingly louder and more ominous. They slowly stepped back and felt their backs press against the cold stone wall.

"Oh, my! Oh, my! Oh, my! This is such a bad idea," muttered Hournas. Elni's eyes widened in fear as the creaking sound seemed to surround them. Semphius grabbed their hands tightly, sweat dripping down his face.

Without a warning, they all felt a hand grabbing at their shoulders from behind. Weird because their backs were already against the wall. The creaking sound suddenly stopped, replaced by the sound of several swords pulled out of their sheaths.

They turned around to see a figure in a dark cloak standing before them. The hands that had been grabbing at their shoulders were not even real hands but dark, shadowy appendages extending from the figure's cloak.

"A—"

Before the goblins could scream, the hands clamped over their mouths while the other dark appendages pressed the swords against their throats, silencing them instantly. The figure pulled out its hood to reveal an older female human with magenta eyes and a stern expression.

"I only have one really important question," she said, her voice low and menacing. "Who are you, and why are you brats in my hut?" She turned to Irglin and controlled the dark hand and pressed the sword even harder against his throat. "Goblin, how about you move your tongue and tell me what you're doing here before I skin you alive and hand you on a pole by your entrails."

"U-uh, I-I'm Irglin, sixteen years old," he stammered, fear and panic creeping into his voice. "I, uh-"

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"I? What about your friends? They are your friends, right?" she said, her sinister tone freaking them out even more. "The I in your first sentence gives me that feeling that this is your whole idea and you want to protect your friends by taking the blame," she said. "I mean, good for you for manning up. But everyone gets the same sword thrust to their necks regardless if you don't start talking."

Just when the young goblins were about to break down and spill everything, three older female humans entered the hut carrying a bag of vegetables and fruits, seemingly unsurprised to see one of their own holding them by their throats.

"Oya? What do we have here?" said one of the women in the middle. She had short gray hair and an eyepatch on her left right with several scratch lines along her right cheek.

"Dear the gods, Camilla," complained the woman in the right, "you're kidnapping goblins now?" Different from the other women, the one on the left had long red hair and wore a torn cape that only covered her left shoulder.

The young goblins could see a size difference between her left and right sides. Her right arm was visible, but her left was nowhere to be seen, not even buldging out from under the cape as if she lost it.

"You need help, Cam. The war's over, you need to find new hobbies to keep you busy, girl," said the woman on the left.

She had black hair, wore black piercings all over her face, and had a visible skull tattoo on her neck. Out of the three, she's the only one who seems to not have lost any body parts, excluding her pierced nose and ears.

"Camilla? Is that your name, lady?" Irglin asked, turning at the woman holding them hostage. His eyes still showed fear of her.

"Quiet, boy," sneered Camilla, moving her swords closer to the young goblins' eyes. She then turned to the three women and said, "Maiji, Mera, Gela," she addresed each of them. "I thought we agreed to not see each other's faces again. What the hell happened to the word "retired?"

"Wait! Hold on—Camilla? Maiji? Mera? Gela?" he thought to himself.

Irglin glanced back and forth between the four women and instantly remembered the stories the elder goblins used to tell about the Holy Champions.

He then looked back at Camilla, noticing how she had magenta eyes and the dark hands she controlled were tied to magic strings.

"Oh, my God! You're the Holy Champions!" he exclaimed. "Y-Y-You're the Puppeteer!" he stammered, then turned to Maiji, Mera, and Gela. He stammered again, "Y-You're Two-Tone Witch! You're Crimson Cleaver! And you're Shadow Walker!"

"Ah, looks like we're busted," Maiji said with a smirk.

Camilla butted her head against Irglin's and silencing him with a finger to her lips. She then said, "gimme a sec, kid," before dropping him to the floor and moving the sword down to his neck again.

"Camilla, can you do me a solid here?" asked Maiji, looking at the young goblins she held by their necks. "Come on, girl. War's over. Cut your crap and let them go. They're just kids. You wouldn't kill bratty prankster teenagers, would you?"

"I don't know, you tell me," replied Camilla.

"Nuh-uh, hands off them kids," said Maiji, lightly smacking Camilla's dark hands away.

Camilla sighed and dismissed her dark hands and swords with a flick of her wrist. Irglin and the others dropped to their knees and panted in relief, grateful to be spared.

"Thank you! Thank you, granny," Irglin said, hugging Maiji's waist tightly.

"Oh, dear. Oh, dear. Gorgeous," Maiji said, patting their heads gently.

"Pfft! You hear that… "granny?" mocked Camilla, scoffing.

"Close your ears, kids. You don't want to hear this," Maiji admonished before looking at Camilla. "You fucking donkey," she snarled, pointing at Camilla.

Camilla rolled her eyes and turned away, walking to her table to pour herself a drink. Maiji rustled the young goblins heads and chuckled, "that being said, I do have to ask you kids. What are you doing here?"

"W-We were just exploring the lands," replied Irglin with a nervous smile. Maiji raised an eyebrow, studying the quartet before asking, "is that all you were doing, or were you up to something else?" She could sense that there was more to their story than they were letting on.

Irglin, Elni, Hournas, and Semphius exchanged nervous glances before Irglin hesitantly admitted, "okay, I don't want to lie to you because you saved us from that scary lady-"

"Fuck did you just say?" scowled Camilla, glaring at Irglin menacingly.

The young goblins quickly hide behind Maiji. She laughed at their reaction before turning back to Irglin and saying, "I appreciate your honesty. Now tell me everything."

"T-The chieftain of our tribe told me a story for helping him skinning a boar," Irglin stammered, looking down at his feet. "He said that there's an old hut just past the waterfall in the north."

"This hut," Maiji nodded, intrigued. "What did he say about it?"

Irglin swallowed nervously before continuing, "He said that there used to be a powerful human witch living there. L-Look, I was just curious. My friends were against it, but I couldn't resist."

"Well, now you know that there was one," said Maiji, gesturing at Camilla, who was listening intently. "I think it's best for you to get out and run back to the village before it gets dark. Everything's scarier in the dark."

"If I'm being honest, you're the scariest thing we've encountered in a while," Irglin joked weakly.

"And why's that?" Maiji asked, chuckling at his attempt at humor.

"Because you and your friends are the only humans who didn't try to kill us," Irglin explained with a nervous laugh. "Most humans or elves will stab a goblin or an orc on sight. And you ladies are casually standing in the same place under the same roof as us without any weapons drawn."

"You think humans are scary?" asked Mera.

"Well, after everything that happened during the demonic invasion, it's hard not to be wary of anyone who isn't immediately hostile towards us," Irglin replied. "But you and your friends have shown us somewhat of an uninterested curiosity instead of blind aggression, which is a refreshing change. Not that I'm complaining or anything," he added quickly. "It's just... unexpected."

"You're not wrong there, kiddo," Gela chuckled.

"Please don't take this the wrong way, miss," Elni said cautiously, "but why is your kind, the humans, hates our kind so much?"

There was a moment of silence from Camilla, Maiji, Mera, and Gela as they exchanged knowing glances. The young goblins didn't know why, but they could see a pain in the humans' eyes as they struggled to find the right words.

Finally, Camilla spoke softly, "the chieftain of your tribe—he has educated you about the Demonic Invasion, yes?"

Irglin and the others nodded solemnly, recalling the stories passed down through generations.

"Yes, the chief said that we goblins, orcs, and dwarves caused a lot of human, elf, and dragon deaths," Hournas recalled.

"Yeah! The Day of Red—the day where no dirt, water, or even the sky was not red from every blood that spilled," added Semphius, nodding.

"Correct, but that's only half of the actual truth," said Mera, narrowing her eyes as she looked at each of them. "Do you want to know the other side of that historical event?"

The young goblins looked at each other nervously, unsure of what to expect.

"One full year before the final assault on the Dark Lord's fortress, He stepped out of his dark fortress and cast a world-class spell. One so powerful it almost caused a mass extinction event," explained Camilla, sighing as she remembered the devastation caused by the spell.

The young goblins paid close attention to what she said, their eyes filled with both fear and wonder as she spoke about the disastrous event.

"Unfortunately for your kind, the orcs, and the dwarves, who lived the closest to the Dark Lord's fortress, they bore the brunt of the spell's effect—mind control and hostile puppetry," Camilla continued, "in an instant, they turned against us, killing a lot of humans, elves, and dragons. The once united alliance between the different races shattered within an hour—one hour."

"Oh, my," whispered Elni.

"After we retreated to safety, with the gods and goddesses blessing us, we launched one last desperate attack to try and break the Dark Lord's hold on our allies," Camilla added solemnly. "It was not a battle—it was a massacre. But after a long and ardious struggle, we slayed Him and cancelled the spell, freeing our friends from his control."

"Then why segregate us? Why do humans, elves, and dragons kill goblins, orcs, and dwarves on sight even after the Dark Lord's spell was broken?" Elni asked, confused and sad.

"After the war, a council was formed to rebuild every kingdom and empire that had been torn apart by the Dark Lord's reign. However, old prejudices die hard, and many people lost their loved ones to those races," explained Maiji, patting Elni on the shoulder. "There was a massive outrage among the survivors when the council proposed integration, leading to the now infamous "kill-on-sight" policy that still exists today."

"B-But, why? Why do you keep killing us? It has been three centuries since the war ended," Elni stammered.

"The pain of grieving is not something one can simply forget or forgive," Maiji replied. "And unfortunately, that same hatred was passed down through generations, perpetuating the cycle of violence and discrimination."

"Then why didn't you kill us two?" asked Irglin, tears streaming down his face.

"What do you mean?"

"You're a human, aren't you?! Why aren't you following the same policy?!" shouted Irglin. "Everybody killed us, so why don't you?!"

"We don't believe that ridiculous old policy of extermination," replied Mera. "It's called a war for reason. People die in wars, everybody received the same fate, regardless of race or species. But to kill someone based on the sins their ancestor committed is unjust and cruel. We choose to break the cycle of hatred and violence, not perpetuate it."

"That's right," Gela nodded. "You can execute someone, but never touch whoever came after them."

It took the young goblins minutes to fully comprehend what the old ladies were revealed, but slowly they began to see the complete picture of why their kind was cruelly slaughtered once they were seen.

They want the cycle of violence to end so every goblin, orc, and dwarf can live in peace and harmony, free from the burden of their ancestors' sins. But in order to spread this message, they knew they had to travel through every kingdom and village, facing potential danger and opposition at every turn.

And with them being goblins, one of the three banished races, walking the land of Grimorio would be like dragging one's feet on sharp knives with a weight permanently pulling them down.

This was more than a suicide mission. But they made up their minds right there and then. Discrimination against goblins, orcs, and dwarves needs to end. But in order to survive out there, they need to be strong first.

Strong enough to fight back if cornered, strong enough to run if necessary, and strong enough to withstand the harsh, cold, and bloody world that awaited them at every corner. They need mentors—someone who has experienced the cruelty of the world and emerged victorious, and coincidentally, the four old human ladies in front of them fit the bill perfectly.

In a moment of hopeful desperation, Irglin and the others walked nervously towards Camilla, hoping that she could take them under her wing.

Irglin cleared his throat and timidly asked, "M-Missus Camilla?"

Camilla turned to him and furrowed her brow, her piercing gaze causing Irglin to shrink back slightly.

"What?"

"We, uh, we were wondering if you could take us-"

"No," she said bluntly.

"-as your stu—wait, what?" Irglin paused, confused by Camilla's immediate rejection.

"Don't think I don't know what you young urchins are trying to pull," said Camilla, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. "I've seen that look in your eyes before. You're not the first goblin, orc, or dwarf to ask me for tutelage. Trust me when I say this, stop—before it ends badly."

"W-Then how does it end up with your previous students?" Irglin stammered.

"Either on a burning pyre, six feet under, or hanged from the gallows," Camilla replied coldly, her voice devoid of emotion.

"We don't want to live in agony, getting racially discriminated against and hunted down like animals! We need to learn how to defend ourselves, to survive in this world that fears and hates us," pleaded Irglin desperately.

"And what? Spread your peace message? Goblins preaching to humans about peace and understanding? That's a death wish waiting to happen," Camilla scoffed.

"Not if you taught us how to fight back, how to protect ourselves," Enli insisted.

"My last student, an orc named Rig, has the same optimism you guys have. Do you want to know where he is now?" said Camilla ominously.

"Where?"

"Dead. Hanged, drawn, and quartered by the humans he tried to reason with. His limbs were thrown to the vultures, and his head displayed on a pike, long enough, I could see his skin starting to fall off," Camilla warned grimly. "Do you still want to learn how to fight humans who severely outnumber and outpower you? Really think about it, kiddo."

Her words were cruel and cold but ultimately right. It was a harsh reality check for the young goblins. Even if they're willing to risk their lives to preach and make the humans and elves trust their kind, the probability of them getting murdered when running into humans or elves is extremely high.

Deep down, Camilla hoped that her harsh words would discourage the young goblins from putting themselves in such dangerous situations without any guarantee that their optimistic worldviews would see the light of day.

"Please, please, please. Just back down, kids. You're still too young to die," she said to herself as she watched them with their heads lowered and stood there in silence, seemingly accepting her advice.

Just when she thought she had already convinced them, Irglin suddenly raised his head and met her gaze with determination, "We appreciate your concern, Lady Puppeteer, but this unnecessary bloodshed will only continue if no one's bold enough to say enough is enough."

"What a stubborn little ass," she said to herself. "Look—why do you want to do this so badly? Do you hate living?"

"No, I hate living under oppression," Irglin replied.

"This goal of yours would get you killed one day. You know that, don't you?"

"I do," he said, his eyes unwavering. "But I'd rather die fighting for freedom than live in chains."

"You really want me to mentor you, don't you?"

"I do," he said with a determined nod.

Elni grabbed his hand and shook her head at him, "No, Irg," before turning to Camilla. "We do. You're not going alone."

"Really think about this, kid. Risking one person is one thing. But four? That's on my conscience," Camilla warned.

"We're all with him, lady Camilla," Elni said firmly. "We believe in a life of freedom or no life at all."

Camilla lowered her head and pulled her hair in frustration, knowing that she couldn't change their minds. She knew that these young goblins would one day meet their ends, as the centuries old racism is one impossible feat to overcome. She sighed, resigned to the fact that they were determined to fight for their beliefs no matter the cost.

But then she looked at her comrades, remembering that they too were stubborn and refused to give up when the Dark Lord threatened their existence. She chuckled at the irony of how history seemed to repeat itself in different forms.

She then huffed in relenting defeat and turned to the young goblins. She looks at the fire in their eyes.

"You die fighting or you die trying, either way your soul will be set free. That's what my late fiancee used to say during the war," she said with a somber smile. The young goblins looked at her with hopeful eyes. She sighed and said, "Before I say yes, I want to tell you young urchins something first."

Irglin and the others nodded their heads in anticipation, eager to hear what she had to say.

"Three centuries ago, after the gods and goddesses blessed me and my comrades with divine powers to defeat the Dark Lord, we made an oath to protect every inhabitants of this land no matter their race or background," Camilla paused, her eyes filled with memories of battles long past. "If you wish for me and my friends to mentor and guide you, you must also swear to uphold this oath and protect all those in need, regardless of who they are, what sins they have committed, or where they come from. Only then will you be deemed worthy to learn from us and carry on our legacy."

With a solemn expression, Camilla awaited their response. The young goblins took their time to think carefully before nodding in agreement.

"We promise," they said in unison.

"Very well," she said. "Go back to your village, inform your parents and elders of your decision, and return here tomorrow at dawn ready to begin your training."

"But… they wouldn't approve of us learning from humans," Elni hesitated.

"That's up to you to convince them otherwise," Camilla replied. "Prove to them that you are capable of learning from anyone, regardless of who and what they are. Show them that you're willing to attest to your fight for freedom from oppression and discrimination. Abandoning one's family who raised and nurtured you is not an easy choice. But the hardest choice requires the strongest will. Can you do that for me?"

They looked at each other before nodding in unison. Fueled by sheer determination, they were ready to prove themselves and show their commitment to their cause.

Once the young goblins left the hut, Camilla rested her old and tired bones on the creaky wooden chair. Maiji, Mera, and Gela took the seats around the table, gazing at the dancing fire in the fireplace.

"You think they would succeed?" asked Gela.

"There's no refusing them, Gel," replied Camilla.

"How do you know that?" Gela asked, raising an eyebrow.

Camilla chuckled softly, "Because they had the same fire in their eyes that we all used to when we're still fighting the war. No matter how many times the Dark Lord sends His demons to destroy us, we claw our way back every time."

Maiji smiled nostalgically, remembering the battles they had fought together. "They have our determination," she said softly. "I miss everyone from those days."

"You think they're still alive by now?" asked Camilla.

"I don't know about Herdina, Cayleb, and Furiosa, but all of our elven asshole of a comrade is definitely still kicking," Gela replied.

"Those kids," Mera said, referring to the young goblins again. "You think they would fail to accomplish their dreamed freedom?"

"The odds are not in their favor, not even by a long shot," Gela said grimly.

"We'll train them, however we can, however they are willing to learn. But ultimately, their fate is in their own hands," Camilla added, the crackling flame reflected off her eyes.

"You do know we're already old as dirt, right?" Mera said with a chuckle. "There's not much left in us that we could pass on to them."

"We are much weaker, yes, but much wiser," Camilla replied. "Compared to our younger self three centuries ago, we have been put down, beaten, stretched, and humbled so many times. Our experience is our greatest gift to them."

"Great, because I can barely stand without my old bones creaking," Mera joked, causing Camilla to laugh.

"That's why I told you to load up on milk three centuries ago, you dumbass," Gela insulted, chuckling.

"Me and Calcium have never seen eye to eye," Mera admitted, shaking her head.

"And now your old ass is regretting it now, don't cha?" Gela teased, earning a playful glare from Mera.

"A bit, yeah," Mera admitted with a grin.

"Camilla," Maiji called out, changing the subject, "what do you think about "that"?"

"That?" Camilla asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The day we received our blessings, the gods and goddesses told us about an ambiguous prophecy that could take place in the future," Maiji clarified.

"Oh, that," Camilla responded, her expression turning serious. "Yeah, I remember about it. Why're you bringing it up now?"

"The Dark Lord, do you think He's the one the gods and goddesses talked about in the prophecy?" Maiji asked.

"Hmm—When a significant transformation occurs in history, Rez appears as a dark demon. Being a demon, it wields its power to bring destruction to the land, only to meet its own end. After a period of dormancy, Rez makes a triumphant return as a renowned hero," Camilla recalled the entire prophecy they had heard from the gods and goddesses. "I guess the correct interpretation depends on whether the Dark Lord will return once again to Grimorio."

"But the last time he's here, he decimated almost 8/10 of the entire world. How do we know if His next return will bring salvation instead of further destruction?" Mera asked.

"We don't, that's up to fate to decide," Camilla replied. "All we can do now is let everything unfold as it is meant to and live our life according to the second half of the prophecy."

"Ah, yes… that part," Maiji said with a hint of hesitation.

The fire keeps crackling, dancing as air stirred around it, reflecting off Camilla's eyes as she gazed into the flames, lost in thought.

"Sic vis pacem para bellum," she whispered.

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> Author is scratching his nuts off because his English is shit, sometimes can't tell the different between present and past tense and RRCM didn't allow any kind of AI for spell check. God help us all.

>

> If you see any grammatical or spelling error, just pretend it was right... shush