Season 2: Chapter 42: Goblin Bosses

Thrust!

At my command, two rows of five shot out their spears, the weapon's scraping against the shields held in the goblin’s hands beside them.

A pseudo phalanx, a formation of ten goblins holding spears and ten goblins holding shields. The spears themselves were too long for any of the goblins to wield one handed with a kite shield, so instead they were taught to work in pairs.

One spearman. One shieldman. Splitting the focus of one job into two so that the goblins could accomplish the tasks needed.

The goblins took to the training surprisingly easy, the creatures following my instructions to the best of their ability thanks to my impart instruction skill.

I could visualize what I want, think the actions of attacks and techniques, and then transmit it to the goblins eager to follow my instructions.

All and all, a good day for everyone.

Well, almost everyone, Slimey on the other hand…

She was having trouble lifting the Dragon Slayer.

The massive black blade was stuck in the ground as Zorin pointed and laughed at the slime’s efforts.

“Having trouble?” Zorin said, a rare moment where the gator girl talked.

Slimey shot a glare at the gator-girl.

Slimey.

“Yes my Lord?” Slimey asked, appearing beside me almost instantly, her eyes big and round.

How about we focus on leveling up telekinesis first.

“Of course my lord.” Slimey replied, using the skill on my body to lift me and bring me to her hands.

Ah… not quite what I meant…

Moving back to organizing the goblins, I began splitting them up, creating two ten men-errr, goblin squads each led by a commander.

Goblin Twelve and Goblin Fifteen, Renamed Gobeldee and Gobeldo respectfully.

These two would be captains of their squads, leaders who would facilitate the needs and upkeep of their unit and arms.

Although I'd led armies in the past, micromanaging everything wasn't something I particularly enjoyed doing. Which is why I employed commanders, strategists, and tacticians. People who did the minor tasks for me so I could focus on the big picture of fighting a war.

It would be some time before I had suitable officers though, so in the meantime I would focus on spear drills and technique. Have them build cohesion as a unit and develop Gobeldee and Gobeldo as leaders.

To cement their statuses as leaders above the others, I ordered them to my throne where they both took the knee under Slimey's gaze.

I reached out, giving them both one thousand EXP from my own pool.

Both goblins began to shake, their bodies flooding with power as their levels went up and they hit their level cap of ten.

Unlike the other monsters under my command, the goblins had no skills or abilities, nothing that set them apart from the other monsters. In fact, skeletons had more abilities. Fortunately, that would soon change.

Both goblins began a visible evolution, both green-skins growing slightly bigger with thicker muscles. Instead of short child-sized monsters they now stood the height of an average thirteen-year old.

[Goblin -> Goblin Boss]

Both goblins gained the skill War Cry, as well as an ability called Rally. Leadership skills that I would sorely need and test out.

The pair fell to their knees, heads planted into the cavern floor as tears fell from their green eyes.

I could feel their reverence, their devotion, their hands and heads raising up to gaze at my throne as if praying to their God.

[Devotion +10]

Huh?

I could feel a strange energy well up within, a lightness that bubbled up before settling down.

Weird.

Verrrrry weird.

Slimey was one thing but having more devotees…

Can't say I'm particularly a fan of it. I wasn't a god, nor was I a hero, yet these monsters all turned to me with devotion in their hearts. I could feel their eagerness to please me, their willingness to do anything I commanded of them.

Was this what the Demon Lord felt as he unleashed his hordes? I won't say it's not an intoxicating feeling because it was, IS.

The goblins in the back were kneeling as well, following their newly appointed leaders in their display of devotion.

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

“Praise be to Lord Hiro!” Slimey joined in, holding me aloft, the entire crowd of goblins fervently cheering in response.

““PRAIZ TA LORD HIRO!!””

Great… this is a cult. I've actually formed a cult…

Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh.

I didn't like this at all, not at all… but if it gets me closer to dominating the world?

Then I would play the role.

***

Elsewhere.

Under the blighted purple sky, Lhikan moved quietly yet swiftly through the dense jungle, each step taken one one closer to his destination.

Pausing for a moment, Lhikan eyed the symbols carved into the nearby trees. Waysigns that were left behind by Zak”naufen and typically unseen by the human eye.

Typically.

Thankfully the traitorous elf had been useful during the journey, giving Lhikan and the others the ability to read drowthraki waysigns so as to not get lost.

Lhikan brushed his gloved hand against the rough tree bark, an odd buzzing feeling erupting in his palm.

Heading left ahead.

Lhikan adjusted his gas mask, checking the box attached to his hip to read the gauges.

Six hours of air left.

“How much further?” A man asked, another paladin adorned in hazard gear.

“Five days at our current pace,” Lhikan replied, turning his gaze to Marcus and the twelve that followed him. “We're at least two weeks ahead of the army but we need to keep moving.”

Marcus reached out, grabbing Lhikan by the shoulder as the man began to turn.

“Wait a moment.” Marcus said, halting his friend.

“What?” Lhikan replied, eyeing the man through the red lense of his gas mask.

“We should take a moment to rest. We're a good two weeks ahead, it would do no harm to slow down.”

Lhikan eyed his group of volunteers and clergymen, men and women who were abandoned by their church and country. Men and women who had doubts, but followed him because of the promises and hope he offered.

“No,” Lhikan replied. “Every moment delayed is another that the enemy gains ground. By now, word of my escape has probably reached Danse’s ears with Krekka ordering them to force march. Next checkpoint is about half a day's walk, we'll keep walking until then sergeant.”

Marcus grimaced but did as ordered, following along with his old friend as they marched.

“So, are you ever going to teach me how to read Drowthraki waysigns?” Marcus asked, brushing a vine out of his path. “Would be helpful.”

“I told you before, no.”

“Aw c’mon, why not?” Marcus pressed, stepping around thicc vines that nearly caught his boot.

Lhikan grunted. “Because it's not something that can be taught. You need a drowthraki elf to give you the ability.”

“You still never told me how you managed to find a drowthraki.”

“I didn't.” Lhikan replied in a curt manner.

Marcus shook his head, sighing.

“Ok, fine, keep your secrets. Just trying to make small talk.”

“Less talking, more walking.” Lhikan said, pushing ahead.

“Aye aye Paladin.”

Through the jungle they walked, no sound emitted from the party as they made their way to the next checkpoint.

Breaking from the jungle, Marcus and the other humans gasped.

From beyond the jungle, lay a rainbow meadow, a large biome of colorful reeds and flowing streams, a small slice of paradise nestled in a sea of blighted venom.

“H-how?” Marcus asked as Lhikan entered the pocket of dense anima magic and took off his mask.

“That.” Lhikan said, pointing to a glimmering blade stuck in a concrete structure that was out of place.

“Is… is that-?” Marcus began, he and the other knights and priests walking towards the blade.

“Excalibur?” Lhikan replied, taking a seat on a log that sat beside an old campsite. “Yes.”

“THIS! THIS IS INCREDIBLE!” Marcus let out, dropping to his knees in front of the blade as the other apostates began to examine the weapon that was devoid of rust or wear.

Marcus turned his head, facing Lhikan who was unmoved.

“This is an incredible find! Why did you not report this to Prior Dume?!” Marcus exclaimed.

“And have Krekka’s croneys deface this landmark? To defile this resting place?” Lhikan replied with Marcus looking down to realize he could see a face peaking at him from underneath glass.

“WHA?!” Marcus exclaimed, falling on his rear as his feet scraped against the glass flooring.

“Everyone, meet Ravenhawk Hector. Ravenhawk Hector, everyone.” Lhikan said, opening a bag of oats as he gestured to the perfectly preserved corpse that lay beneath the glass.

Ravenhawk Hector, one of the Legendary Six. Master spy under the command of Queen Liliana and companion of The Hero.

Marcus quickly moved off the glass, his jaw agape as he stared at the roguish looking fellow below.

“Is he…dead?”

“As a doorknob,” Lhikan replied before his gaze shifted to the two men wrapping their hands around the legendary weapon buried in stone. “Don't bother, it's magically bound to the earth.”

The two knights looked at each other but attempted it anyway, tugging at the weapon that didn't move.

“This is a magnificent find!” Tipsy said, the four-foot woman eyeing the weapon through the lenses of the Mechanical contraption that sat on her head.

A gnome and one of the few non-humans in the group besides the beastman, Tipsy was in charge of maintaining all of the party’s rebreathers and although paid in coin for her services, she was no less committed to the mission.

“Hmmm the algorithm for the spell is extremely complex. I can see rune traces that stand for purify and chosen.” Tipsy reported, the crowd of knights listening intently to her report.

“Can you decode and deactiv-” Marcus began.

“No.” Lhikan interjected, drawing all eyes to the man laying down.

“He’s right,” Tipsy added. “This is in a much older language. The encryption is constantly shifting with at least fifty- no, a hundred lines and an access code of sixty with a one in sesvigintillion possible combinations.

“Meaning?” A knight named Zach asked.

“Meaning a number with eighty-one zeros behind it.”

Marcus began using his hands to count, stopping when all of his hands were palm up.

“That's like a billion possible combinations!”

Tipsy turned to the paladin, the lenses of her contraption closing to imitate her blinking.

“Sure. Let's go with that,” Tipsy replied. “Anyway it's impossible to crack unless you fulfill the requirements to unlock the blade.”

“And what are those requirements?”

“To be the Hero.” Lhikan said, his eyes closed, recounting the time he and Natalie spent at this campsite with their companions.

Ivanc and Natalie, both working on transcribing the runes etched on the enchanted glass coffin.

Zak”naufen stringing his bow as Krota talked about the customs of cannibalism inherit with his culture.

Then there was Morty, Edward Richthofen, Sammy Maxis, Takeo Masekai, Sergei Ravenov, Nikolai Belinski, John Dempsey, drinking and playing card games with one another as they took a rare moment to breathe.

At this leg of the journey, they had still been twelve. Every threat they faced was destroyed by their combined teamwork with no sacrifices yet to be made.

Sacrifices that went unrecognized by their Church.

“Garrus,” Marcus said, snapping his fingers to summon the beastman scribe. “Work with Tipsy to document as much as you can, I want a full record of this grave site, from the effects of the blade, to the inscription on the glass casket.”

“”Sir.”” The two inhumans said, quickly going to work as Lhikan opened his eyes, staring at the blue sky that was only available thanks to the legendary sword.

Soon. Natalie. I'll make sure your efforts weren't in vain.