"Ghaaa!"
Jazz woke up to a cry and found himself lying on a hard-stone bed, made to give more pain than comfort. And a series of such beds were laid out in a pair of rows to both sides of the 5 by 5m room, giving it a look of an infirmary of some kind. The room was made entirely out of wood, in fact, it was made inside the wooden trunk from the looks of it.
In a corner, a pair of Hob-Goblins could be seen bullying a lesser goblin, kicking and trying to snatch something from it. A normal occurrence, that Jazz wouldn't have minded if not for the bullied goblin being his acquittance, and the snatching item also being his acquittance.
*Bang!*
Without even thinking, and without a warning, Jazz kicked the left one and slapped the other, causing both of them to fly sideways before crashing into the walls. Unsurprisingly, his peak strength and health were much greater.
"You good?"
Speaking through the usual mind-link, Jazz gives a helping hand to the goblin and his pet squirrel. And frowned as both the Hob-Goblins stood back before growling at him. Of course, he restrained himself previously as a good Goblin; he couldn't kill his brothers unnecessarily, no matter how annoying they could be, courtesy of the tribe's rule set by the supreme one.
But before a dog fight could happen, the [Healer] came back. A strange Goblin with a big torso and shorter legs wearing a leather apron splattered in blood and gore while holding a vicious iron Saw, still dripping with fresh blood. Apparently looking more like a murderer than a healer. And as he saw the scene, he grumbled.
"I said, no harm shall be done to my patients"
"Ghaa!"
*Pat!*
Instantly slashing the backs of the supposed guards, he had left behind his watch, with an unavoidable speed making them drop down with a fountain of blood, the [Healer] then shakes his head in the disappointment of an elder over some new kids while speaking in the demon tongue; a common language spoken among elders.
"There are too many idiots growing inside the tribe nowadays"
After that, he nodded at the lesser goblin and his squirrel hiding behind Jazz.
"A tamer I suppose, and-" Shifting his gaze back to the Hob-Goblin, he continued "-you 220E-Hob right? The other elders are calling your presence in today's meeting"
Jazz nodded without even asking why, as if he already knew the reason behind it; Disappearing for a week and coming right after the end of overflow with injuries, and screaming at the guards to heal some strange monsters that had appeared right beside him instead of eating them. And speaking of which.
"Are they alright?"
Jazz asked in the same tongue as the healer in front of him, while turning to the other occupants of the room. Even knowing the Healer had 20+Lv in healing skills alone, he couldn't help but feel nervous about the answer.
"Not quite, but I did what I can"
Shrugging, the Healer then moves his bloody Saw to the side and starts tending to the pair of new patients he had recently knocked out of sudden anger.
Coming out of the treehouse and into the opening, Jazz saw the tribe is still dealing with the aftermath of the Overflow, or more like the after feast of the Overflow; monster corpses were carried, and got stuffed in their warehouses while many warriors who had participated in it already started eating their share right away.
The giant hollow trees that housed the tribes were glowing vibrantly in a brilliant hue as if they had been reborn.
And the cause is clear as the sky, or more like clear as the abundant blue blood that shimmers and flows at the ceiling like an upside-down ocean, fueling the monster's growth and the ground-to-ceiling double-rooted trees spanning the endless ancient forest that is the 1st Echelon.
Moving past the ever-hungry goblins of various shapes, sizes, and colors Jazz stands in front of the biggest tree that stands in the middle of the tribe with a pair of humongous totems; one holding a shield, the other a wooden staff.
'I hope they will believe me'
Gathering his breath, he climbs the side spiraling stairs and passes through many closed or open doors leading to powerful elders' workshops and lodging areas.
They're divided into ranks, the lowest floor being the weaker and the highest being the most powerful, whereas the left belongs to the warrior and the right belongs to the shamans. This is to say, the left side dominated more than the right as evidenced by many of the empty rooms on the shamans' side.
With his current strength Jazz didn't take long to reach the uppermost level; an open area of 20m in diameter, the tree roots stretched above sideways in a pillar-like structure, connected to the flowing blue blood above.
And at the center, there's a giant round table occupied by numerous elders with the same pattern of two sides sitting opposite each other, while the left outnumbering the right.
Whereas an old goblin with a long white beard, and of a height that could be easily mistaken to be of a lesser goblin, sits at the centremost chair, raised higher than the others as if to emphasize the part that He's more important than them.
His sudden presence didn't go unnoticed, as a Hob-Goblin with a longsword, his mentor, reveals his fangs.
"Congratulations on your advancement 220"
Apparently, Jazz had unconsciously triggered his evolution in his rage born from seeing the long-awaited Hero sacrificing themselves for a nobody like him, while he did nothing other than be a burden.
Whatever the pride he felt from being the lucky one who got to escort the Hero to the tribe got shattered at that moment, he thought nothing but wished he would be the one to stop the adventurers and kick-push the Prince to safety.
Name: Jazz
Level: 1
Rank: 3
Species: Krol-Goblin
-These species are known to survive any beating.
-They can take damage for their allies and can transform the said damage into their attack.
"Jazz"
Corrected the now krol-Goblin, with a bluish hue to his previously dark green skin as the only change aside from the immensely increased muscle mass and height.
"Oh! So you named yourself already, good"
His mentor sounds proud of it, and also happy for not burning his brain on thinking of another name that isn't a Gobo, shobo, or morbo, the same names he and many other elders had given to their hundreds of disciples. Which had almost led to civil war before so as to retain the name that belongs solely to them.
"And again congratulations for bringing brilliant talents to the tribe 220-ahem! Jizz, or was it jass?"
Coughed the goblin, with a build making him look like a distant cousin of a dwarf. Unceremoniously taking the goblins and the monsters who had gained the crafting skills, courtesy of working like slaves for Oscar, under his wings.
"Jazz" Corrected the krol-Goblin. Again.
"And who gives you the permission, Dogo?" Said the man with an owl on his shoulder, as if advertising that he's a Goblin-tamer.
Apparently, it wasn't a taunt, but the actual name of the Goblin crafter whose previous mentor was too lazy to think of any other.
"Elders, I have something to say"
Jazz said in a low voice, as if ashamed of speaking of it.
"I second this. Our warriors are in dire need of fresh bloods, more so after this overflow"
But his voice quickly gets drowned by a sudden debate sparked among the elders who had heard of the talents Jazz had brought to them.
"I beseech the supreme one to intervene and grace us with more hands to lift our tribe in the fields of magic, rather than degrade by letting these barbarians do as they please"
With a glib tongue, the shaman with a red robe, soaked in blood, and a pair of skull necklaces said with a flattering smile directed towards the white-bearded short goblin. But like he hadn't heard any of it, the oldest shaman continued to take his nap, long decided in his career to not intervene in the tribe's matters until necessary.
"Puff! See, even the supreme one didn't take you seriously Boro. Now sit and let us, the real shield of the tribe, decide on what to do with the newborns"
Many other non-shamans laughed along, making the glib-tongued goblin named Boro fume instantly and grab the wand to blast his face. Doesn't matter which path or how evolved a goblin was, they always shared one commonality; having a short temper. This also applies to Jazz, who's known for being gentle.
"THE PRINCE HAS COME BACK!"
The unexpected shout turned everyone to shut and turn to the newly evolved Krol. And as they registered the meaning, each of the elders presented frowned.
"Jazz… you alright?" His mentor asked in a worried tone. Since causing a ruckus in front of so many elders isn't something that could go unpunished
"On account of bringing me some good disciples I would let this slide Jizz, or Jazz, or whatever the name was" Boro, the shaman said haughtily.
Obviously, no one believes, or more like nobody could believe it.
It was a legend they had heard but never seen, the story they had listened to but never truly believed, and the dream they once had but quickly forgotten as they evolved. Even though the previous supreme one, the prophet, had foretold the timing beforehand, and they had been spreading their forces to cover as many spawn points as possible no elder had held hope as of now.
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
"I tell nothing but the truth, elders. Believe me, I have met the Hero and fought alongside them. And even harry, and-and others have also done so"
Halfway through his speech, which was respectful considering all the elders with hundreds of battle Hob-Goblins under their command were listening, an unexpected gaze snapped at him. Making him forget what he had prepared to speak beforehand.
"Do you have evidence?"
The pint-size old wizard looks down at Jazz, while unknowingly putting tons of pressure on him through his starry eyes.
The newly evolved Kroll all but quivers a little as he takes out a strange dagger, in the shape of a slithering snake; which had dropped into the water when Oscar mindlessly kicked him.
"He-here!"
White's Bane - 3/5 (Common)
An elder took it and gave it to the white-bearded midget sitting on the tallest chair, almost touching the roof. As if looking down at everyone present.
-Made by Oscar the wonder goblin, at 5th of the divine calendar and 23:04:12.
-Materials used: Sarkjnov Snake's front scale.
-Uses: Fight 10-percent, Show off 90-percent.
-Durability: 3/5
-Grade: Common
-Suitability: preferably on a young master ]
With his All-See-Eyes, the supreme midget nodded quietly as he read through the details before passing his judgement.
"A good weapon, but it could also be made by stray tribes"
Incidentally, they aren't the only goblin tribe in this whole dungeon. As they couldn't recruit each and every goblin spawn, some stray tribes would erect following a Hob-Goblin in the lead. But those lasted only for a month or a year at best before they get destroyed either by adventurers' raids or another strong monster in passing. And certainly, there wouldn't be much of a surprise if one or two Goblin among them evolved to be an artificer or a shaman.
But the guilt-ridden Jazz didn't think this through before and got eyed by tens of now angry elders for trying to fool them.
"Bu-but…" Looking down, Jazz with his now high INT mind tried to think of ways he could convince them before being stuck with the sudden thought "The car! Ahem! I mean the thing Prince built, and the reason why all the newborns had crafting skills… I can show you"
At the mention of this, many elders did consider his words. Since, It was indeed a strange thing for every newborn to have the same crafting skills, even by coincidence it was too much. Hence, Jazz was successful in hooking them in.
"Lead"
At the words, the supreme wizard snaps his finger and a spell envelops them all in an instant. And without an ounce of mana fluctuations, they all teleported right to the place wished by Jazz; the place where he lost the Prince.
And then It didn't take long for all to notice the strange structure of a skull or whatever remains of it in a corner.
The elder in charge of the artificers inspected it at the gesture of the Oldest Shaman.
"This…"
Obviously, he couldn't make a head or tails of this jumbled mess it has become, but he could certainly feel the intricate design it was made from, and what purpose it serves; Travelling. A cart that isn't driven by a horse or any other outside source, it's certainly an idea that was recorded in history and the legendary days of prosperity.
The head artificer had tried to recreate this thing on his own before but failed as his box mentality that hasn't seen a means of travel other than what adventurers used in the dungeon couldn't think further than making use of a monster.
At his speechlessness, many other elders also inspected it. Although, they also didn't know anything about it they could still feel how unordinary and foreign this thing was; successfully planting the seeds of doubt among them.
But the most shocked was the Supreme one, who saw more than any other present here through his All-See-Eyes.
And certainly, his expression didn't go unnoticed by many clueless elders, causing the seed of doubt to take roots in their minds.
"Jazz… if, I mean if we believe you then where is the Hero currently then"
His mentor asked, echoing the question many other elders have.
"Prince-" Giving an ashamed expression, and lowering his head, Jazz finally drops the bomb "-got abducted by those adventurers…"
Even then, Jazz couldn't admit that the Hero sacrificed himself for letting him escape pathetically.
"I-i don't know if he's alive or not right now"
"What?!- how could you-!"
But before the elders could start interrogating Jazz, who had missed the Prince right at the last moment, The old wizard goblin snapped his finger and disappeared from his floating spot.
----------------------------------------
At the central area of the 1st Echelon,
The upside-down blue-blood that flows throughout the 1st Echelon was collected here and formed a giant vortex, and like a tornado, it flows downwards; into the abyssal hole of the humongously wide mountain's top open mouth.
Whereas, the surface of the mountain was covered in a giant swamp with dried-up trees sticking out like sticks of a hedgehog.
If observed from afar, nobody can see any movement going in there, nor will they be able to hear any sound coming from its vicinity other than the distant splashing noises which the blue twister makes as it descends.
But even that was suppressed to a large margin because of the fact that there's nothing it gets collided with after entering into the gaping hole as if it keeps pouring down, down, and down to no end like an abyss.
The whole mountain seems dead, and no monster was willing to get near it as if afraid of waking the sleeping monster inside of it. Which wasn't far from the truth.
"Mr.Sloth?"
Standing at the gigantic mouth of a cave, the previously supreme and mighty elder seems afraid of calling the name. But screwing his courage, and after getting no response for a whole agonizing minute, he set his foot inside of it.
The cave was large as in wide rather than in height, shaped like a stretched-over hangar, and disgustingly moist with a gag-inducing foul stench of fungus permeating through the very particles of the air.
Some puddles and small lakes could be seen forming at every corner, and as the supreme elder kept floating onwards and passed through many turns as per the memorized route he soon met with a Gigantic monster that sprawled throughout the cavern.
Its thick rough, seemingly dead, wooden tentacles were ridden with the fungus that releases spores at every breath. Whereas, its deflated bulb-like head was eerily embedded into the wall covered in creepy pulsating veins that traveled so far deep into the ground and above while splitting into countless times that the elders' senses couldn't keep track of it.
"Mr. Sloth?" Intently staring at this monstrosity's numerous closed eyes, the elder called again.
( Korbos, why did you come today?)
Even at the peak of his power, the supreme goblin shaman named Korbos couldn't help but shudder internally. The demon in front of him wasn't even 10 percent of its original strength but still managed to break all his existing defenses and spoke right through his soul. But what could he expect from a demon that excels at nothing but this.
If he wanted, he could defeat it at a certain cost but like his many predecessors, he wasn't foolish enough to do so let alone think, knowing it would revive after a week as the bounded boss monster of this Echelon. And would certainly then angrily wipe out his tribe, regardless of the pact it made with that legendary Ancestor.
Collecting his thoughts before the demon catches what's actually in his mind, Korbos then says the reason for his sudden visit. With a little bit of a flattering smile and more respect than he usually gives to this true demon.
"Mr.Sloth, a member of my tribe, had just informed us of a certain goblin that may possibly be the summoned Hero as the prophecy foretold. Can I know if it's true or if that kid was messing with all of us?"
Though the evidence he saw was unmistakable and certainly raises the chances of the prophecy coming to life, Korbos couldn't place his hope over uncertainty. He needed proof, a definite one.
( Huh! It's been 567 years since your predecessor told that bullshit, and the 27th time you came taking the false lead as your heralding Hero)
Although he said it, the demon still seems like it's checking something; the system logs from the looks of it.
( Believe me when I said no other Hero would get summoned after that first fiasco. And I told you little korbos that bastard Prometheus is locked like us! Damned to rot in a place with no hope to escape)
Apparently, he had hacked into it after spending countless tries but even then he had too limited access; as in he could only see a limited amount of entries, but couldn't actually do anything about it other than reading them.
( Hahahaha! You should have seen the face he made when he got to taste his own medicine. I bet, even with his foresight, that bastard didn't see that one coming.)
"Certainly Mr. Sloth. Certainly"
Krobos, the goblin, shows nothing but a smile. Having listened to these lines countless times, it felt more like ravings to him now. But Korbos knows better not to point it out in front of this immortal demon whose brain isn't in the right place after living a mundane life for countless years.
And every time he sees his condition, Korbos was all but set on gaining his and his tribe's freedom back that had been robbed away from them following the defeat of that legendary Ancestor.
(Ah! But with the defeat of that Adjark, your ancestor, our hope to escape was thoroughly thrashed. Those damned Gods then tightened the seal! Bloody cheaters!)
The cave reverberated, causing dust to fall down gently.
(Damn! How many of these bloodsuckers have been born in this attempt)
After scrolling non-stop for another ten minutes and eating the Krobos brain in that timeframe, the demon finally found the log named 'Oscar'
The sheet contains the details such as birth time, species, rank etc. But even after rereading it all, the demon didn't see the mark of the champion anywhere.
(Hmm… strange, there's no mark so to speak of)
"It can't be! Ahem! I mean, Mr. Sloth there should be a mention of that somewhere can you reread it for us"
Not wanting to get disappointed again right after finding hope, Korbos daringly urged the demon.
( little Korbos, just accept the truth that no one's coming for us. I have long lost the hope to escape, unlike Lucifer and other fools who still cling to this and always attempt to force the seal each year.
They got to understand the truth that the seal was made using our divine blood, and it won't budge with our now meager strength. Doesn't matter how many tricks they use, it's just… futile.)
The sloth demon's soul-voice did what the Korbos felt to be an equivalent of a sigh, before closing the opened logs that was consuming more mana than he could replenish immediately.
But at the last second, the [Sloth] felt someone's sheet blinking out of existence. As if it gets forcefully deleted from its very existence of it.
"I-i guess yeah you're right Mr. Sloth. I should go back"
With a disappointed face, Korbos then turned around while fuming with anger at Jazz for even trying to pull this elaborate prank.
( Wait! What was the name again?)
"Oscar…"
Korbos frowns as he watches the Sloth demon remain motionless and the voice turns restless.
(I can't find it… )
"Huh?"
(This goblin either died right away or gets disconnected from the system)
The first option seems more plausible than the second which was nothing short of ridiculousness. But then again, why of all the blood-suckers this goblin, who was suspected to be the summoned one, had to be the one to die right as he checked the logs?
( Hmmm… suspicious)
"Mr. Sloth?"
(Can you bring this Oscar's corpse to me?)
"Actually we don't have that goblin, the child that informed us, told us that a pair of human adventurers abducted him at the last moment. And as evidence, he shows us this"
An image floated right in front of the wizard, showing the wreckage of a red skull that got transformed back into a pristine-looking car right before its destruction.
(Why does this seem strangely familiar?)
The demon thought hard before reminding the complaint he recently received through a newborn at the 3rd Strata.
Although it had completely given up on managing the beginners Strata to test or more like killing as many adventurers as possible to take revenge like the other six demons below him, Sloth still retained some connection to its creations from which it received some daily anecdotes of what's happening around its domain.
(Korbos, I think your suspicion may be correct this time. Though, I can't say if this suspected Oscar was still alive but if those adventurers had abducted it, rather than killing it right away, I can say with 90percent certainty that he would be alive. But I don't know for how long. And if so, wait… )
As if dialing a number, the demon waited for a minute before exploding.
(Hey! Mammon! Was that your minions' ploy to break the seal this time?
Ah! What? not yours, but the Belzebub?
Alright! No, no, no! Wait, I didn't call you without a reason. I just received some great news. Maybe that bastard Prometheus finally summoned a damn Hero!
Yeah! Named Oscar, can't believe I let it slip away right through my tentacles but seems like he's still alive for the moment. Of course, he would be that cheater Prometheus never placed a bad bet aside from that Adjark one. )
"Mr. Sloth? Mr. Sloth?"
(What?)
"Can I go?"
(Yeah, of course. Why are you even standing there?)
As if it had forgotten it had a guest, the [Sloth] continued to eat another great Demon's brain on the other side.
(Where was I?
Yeah! I was asking if you would be willing to join back the game? Been like years since I took this role as seriously. And this Prometheus's [Bet] seems more interesting than the last time. Hopefully, we would be able to Win our freedom back through him.
Me too man! I'm definitely not going to tricked again into playing ANY game after this… )
Ignoring the demon's non-stop ravings on the line, Korbos, the goblin supreme wizard, came out of the cave that reeks of fungus and uncountable parasites and took a fresh breath.
Krobos wanted nothing but to breathe in the air that isn't soaked in Demon's blood, he wanted to bask in the sun rather than the damp artificial lights of this cage.
His mind was racing with ways he could try to reach out to the now confirmed Hero, and his hope re-ignited.