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Chapter 49: Peace Was Never an Option?

Chapter 49: Peace Was Never an Option?

[Quest Complete!]

[+ 10 Minion Capacity!]

[New Quest!]

[New Construction Options Available!]

Another day, another quest, all six of my new pylons lining the walls of my throne room like pillars holding my ceiling aloft. I even decorated them with web!

At each pillar, a pair of goblins at the base, Slimey's idea to instill discipline and give morale to the troops.

Actually, this room seems to have gotten a lot bigger now that I think about it. Like… very big, there was even an indoor balcony.

Wait.

WHY IS THERE A BALCONY?! AND WHY IS MY THRONE FOUR FLIGHTS HIGH?!?!

“Is something wrong my Lord?” Slimey asked, her face broadcasting a radiant smile that made my mind blank out for a moment.

Errr… no. Actually… Slimey.

“Yes my love?”

Alright, time to go at this tactically.

Uh, why is my throne so high?

“Because you are above all my Lord.” Slimey replied as if it was the most obvious thing.

Right… but a four story high throne? Seems a bit excessive.

“If it were up to me my Lord, I'd have your throne touch the very sky itself with the stars as your backdrop with everything under your rightful domain bending the knee.”

Riiiiiight… ok. Cool. But isn't this like… a major inconvenience for anyone attempting to talk to me?

“Anyone allowed in your presence should be honored that you deign to allow them within our chambers at all Lord Darling Hiro.”

Uh… Right.

Maybe I'd been so preoccupied with fighting my clone, training soldiers, and setting up my manacysts farms that I hadn't noticed my throne room expanding.

Man, was I that out of it? Maybe I need a naaaaaaa-whoops! Almost turned on power saving mode.

Slimey continued to stroke my head, just another day in my darkest dungeon. Man… I wish I had legs to stretch…

Sigh.

Maybe I should take control of Zorin again, get the feel of actual muscles and ligaments…

Hmm. Wouldn't it be interesting to take control of Slimey? Or Ayaka for that matter. Heh.

[Landsculpting Available!]

Hm?

[Use Manacyst to landscape rooms within your dungeon to empower minions.]

[Reward: Supercyst Unlock]

Huh… neat.

[Presets:

Catacomb: 500 Dark Manacyst.

Aqualife: 200 Anima Manacyst, 300 Dark Manacyst, 10 Holy Manacyst.

Meadow: 550 Anima Manacyst.

Ahhh. So expensive! With 10 Manacyst cultures I was basically making only twenty manacysts every day! AND THIS DUNGEON LANDSCAPING THING WANTED CLOSE TO A THOUSAND?!

WHAT KINDA SCAM IS THIS?!

A SCAM! A SCAM! I'm barely feeding my army as is if not for the composters! And even then that's with round the clock hunting!

“Lord Hiro, are you ok?”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Ehem.

Yup. Sigh…

I'm not ok. Well, good thing I'm always busy doing something.

According to Intel extracted from various goblins, the goblin cove led by the red-skinned orc was only one of dozens of goblins coves.

Each led by a goblin boss, each one in their own territory with every goblin doing their best to avoid the various dungeon cores scattered in the castle.

I focused my attention on the large etchings carved into the floor of my chamber by my capruxa and spiders. The spiders for the line art with their silk, and the capruxas to the dig the earth.

The maps were ever-expanding, each one, a different floor of the demonlord’s castle that were currently being scouted by my minions.

On the maps, pieces of chiten, daggers, and glowstones. The chitens, monster clusters, the glowstones, potential resources, and the daggers, goblin lairs.

I reached out to my recon team, Gobeldee leading a squad-sized element to negotiate with a goblin band at the edge of my territory.

Go. I sent, Gobeldee moving out of my sphere of influence and into the misty black where my consciousness ended.

As beings that could talk, I decided to try dialogue with these creatures rather than subjugation. A carrot and stick approach.

Fear was a powerful motivator, but more-often-than-not fear often led to resentment and hatred, two things that would undermine the foundation I was aiming to build.

So I would offer an olive branch, offer to cure these wayward lambs and supply them with “fancys” as Gobeldo called it and training. Fancys being armor and weapons and the training to conscript them into my growing army.

**** Gobledee***

At the entrance of a goblin dug-out and nearly naked save for the various spider-silk items, Gobledee took a breathe as he felt the touch of his lord and master.

His first mission, his first real task by the Great Yellow One, Gobledee would not fail, to do so would tarnish the station he was given, something he cherished. Before he was Gobledee, he was just a lost being, one with no other purpose other than to procreate and consume, an aimless run-of-the-mill goblin. But the Lord saw past that, and gave him purpose, purified him, gave him a name and enlightenment that casted away the cloudiness that once plagued his mind to eat and consume.

He would not betray these gifts from the Lord.

It was time.

Gobledee took up the rotting wood stake wrapped in spider silk and goblin fat that hung off his spider silk belt. He placed the wooden piece on the ground and took up two stones, rubbing them together just as he’d been taught to produce a spark.

All eyes were on him now, the other goblins breathing down his neck as he did his best to replicate what he’d been taught during the lord’s lessons.

With mounting pressure on his back to perform, Gobledee struck the stones, a spark forming in one go that caught the silk-wrapped stick on fire.

““Oooh.”” The others in his consort let out, allowing Gobledee a moment of reprieve as his squad collectively admired the illuminating flames.

With renewed vigor, Gobledee wrapped his three-fingered hand around the torch, standing tall, taking out the hollowed-out unicorn horn at his side and blowing into it as instructed.

“OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!”

At the cry of the war horn, the eight goblins at Gobledee’s back stood rigid, clanking their arms in unison, tightening up in formation as they readied their spears and shields.

One moment.

Two.

Satisfied that they wouldn’t come under attack Gobledee ordered his squad in, the unit marching into the dug out with their semi-naked leader leading the way.

Inside, Gobledee stood proud, walking past the blighted goblins within that had come out to inspect the noise.

Blinded by the light of the flames, many of the sickly goblins shied away, unable to make sense of the sudden light while those that remained…

They stood in awe of Gobledee, not because of his muscular and well-fed body and silk wrappings but because of his smooth green skin that was on display for all those to see.

Marching unopposed, Gobledee quickly made it into the heart of the goblin-lair, he and his soldiers surrounded by dozens of the diseased ones the lord called them or the unclean as Lady Slimey referred to them.

It was his mission to purify them, to guide them into the light.

“WAT IZ DIS?!” A voice boomed, ricocheting off the walls to strike at Gobledee’s heart.

Orc Fear. A skill some of higher variants of goblins acquired that allowed them to bend their lessers to their will.

Gobledee clenched his jaw, taking a moment to observe the two dozen or so goblins led by a green-skinned humanoid that was a giant compared to the goblins, an orc with a massive club in its hands.

“By da decrees of the Lord! I, Gobledee, lieutenant of the Great Yellow One, offer ya to jon DA ranks of da cleaned!” Gobledee shouted, his heart racing as he resisted the orc fear. “To be free of diseas! To be clean! To be strong!”

The orc approached from the crowd, pushing away several of his underlings to tower over Gobledee by a full head.

“Yous say yous strong?” The Orc said, his skin riddled with pustules and black blight kept at bay by his regeneration. “Stronger ten me?”

Gobledee’s hand clenched around his torch, his other hand resting on the hilt of his blade strapped to his waist.

The Orc licked his lips, eyeing Gobledee’s squadmates and their armor. “Yous got fancys. Me want fancys.”

“Submit to Great Yellow One, get fancys!” Gobledee stated, the crowd of sickly goblins inching closer to his unit.

“Suhmit? Neva!” The Orc spat, his maw opening and spewing rancid breath over Gobledee. “Dis be me space! ME! My gits! No one takes from me! Gib me yous fancys!”

Suddenly the Orc lifted his club, preparing to strike, to smash this puny git that dared to enter his territory. Yet as he went to do so, Gobledee and his consort dropped to one knee in unison, almost as if in prayer as a green shadow flew over their heads.

“ARRRRGHKKKLCKAS!” The Orc let out, screaming as Zorin bit into his neck, dragging the orc across the ground and into the shadows.

***** HIRO****

“Wesa failed” Gobledee sent back, the Orc leader unable to be persuaded.

Which was fine.

The thing about the carrot and the stick policy was that if the carrot failed there was always the stick, the stick of course being Zorin. And while I didn’t want to rule by fear and force the goblins into servitude, exterminating a few of the rotten apples would serve as an example to any other dens what happened to those that attacked my soldiers.

The plan was relatively simple, decimate a few goblin lairs, kill their leaders, scatter the survivors, let them talk, let them spread the fear of my army to the other dens and then force a dialogue for negotiation.

Of course, those that bent the knee would be welcomed into the fold, but those who resisted… well, if they couldn’t be persuaded, I had… other uses for them. Especially their body fats, bones, and skin that made excellent leather once dried hehe…

Man… am I a bad guy?

No. Of course not! Everything I do I do for a better world!

Yup. Better world, right Slmey?

“Yes. Of course my lord!” Slimey affirmed, not even knowing what I was talking about as maniacal laughter echoed in my mind.