After waking up early I open my stats to see how far along I am in my mastery.
Race: Goblin
Rarity: Flawed
HP: 15
Strength: 3
Speed: 2
Intellect: 5
Toughness: 3
Mana: 4
Spells: Fang of The Predator (75% Mastery)
I let out a big stretch and head over to the training facility. The vast building still looks so beautiful on the outside. I head in and walk straight to the training dummies.
I stood in front of the training dummy, feeling the familiar rush of energy as I prepared to use the Fangs of the Predator spell. Closing my eyes, I focused on the primal energy within me, channeling it into my mouth. I could feel my teeth start to change, growing longer and sharper. A shiver ran down my spine as my teeth hardened like blades, ready to tear through anything.
Opening my eyes, I locked onto the dummy, imagining it was an enemy in front of me. My instincts kicked in, and I felt a fierce hunger rising within me—a desire to taste the blood of my foes. With a growl, I lunged at the dummy, sinking my newly transformed teeth into its tough surface. The feeling was exhilarating; my teeth cut through the material like it was nothing.
I pulled back and bit again, faster and harder. Each strike filled me with a savage satisfaction. I could almost taste the enemy’s blood in my mouth, the metallic tang driving me to attack with even more ferocity. My gums throbbed from the transformation, but the pain only fueled my determination.
Again and again, I bit into the dummy, feeling my teeth getting even sharper and stronger with every strike. This spell was more than just a tool—it was a part of me, a weapon I could rely on. And when the time came to face real enemies, I knew I’d be ready. I’d be fierce, unstoppable, and hungry for victory.
Around the usual time when the masses come to train, I snap out of my training spree. It is 11 am and I have trained for 8 hours now. I open my stats to check once again.
Race: Goblin
Rarity: Flawed
HP: 15
Strength: 3
Speed: 2
Intellect: 5
Toughness: 3
Mana: 4
Spells: Fang of The Predator (88% Mastery)
'I hope I can get this done by tomorrow. Learning spells takes an insane amount of time.'
Now that it’s about time for the quest office to open, I make my way over. The place is a very well-adorned facility, with pictures depicting goblins evolving and celebrating together. A constant stream of people flows in and out, showing no signs of stopping.
I walk in and see a swarm of goblins and other races picking quests from the board and forming groups. I’m not here for the board, though, so I head to the registration and promotion area. As I enter, I spot a familiar face with blonde hair and green eyes.
“Hey, Veen,” I say.
Veen turns to me and smiles. “Oh, hey! I was just finishing up my promotion.” She flashes her new token, which has a symbol depicting a goblin leading others and shouting orders.
“Oh, right—you’re a Corporal now, huh?” I say, my eyes glistening with awe at the token.
“Haha, yes, I am. A painful and bloody road to get here, but I’m finally here. Took me a while, even though I’m an uncommon goblin. What are you doing here, Gutter? You got promoted already... wow!”
“No... no, I’m just here to initiate myself as a Private,” I quickly clarify before she gets the wrong idea.
“Oh, that should’ve been the first thing you did when you got out of the ceremony and settled in. Why did you take so long to do it?” Veen asks, her face puzzled.
“Well, I’ve been training since then with the new books I bought using your money,” I admit.
“That reminds me—what books did you choose, anyway?” Veen asks.
“Aura of Comfort and an offensive one called Fangs of the Predator,” I reply.
“Aura of Comfort is a solid choice, but I’ve never heard of the Fangs one before. Well, just make sure to choose your skills carefully, Gutter. Especially the higher-rarity ones—they get ridiculously expensive once you hit the uncommon tier. Anyway, I’ve got to head out, Gutter. Let me know if you have any questions the next time you see me.” She smiles and lightly brushes my arm as she walks away.
I turn to the receptionist and ask, “How do I initiate myself into the office and get a token depicting my rank?”
The goblin behind the counter replies, “Well, that’s easy. Just show me your stats and name so I can pull you up in our system. Then you’ll be good to go.”
I pull up my stats and name for him to see. He scribbles on his notes, then hands me a token with the same design as the one Goobs had shown me earlier.
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“Private is your rank at the moment. Once you hit a certain threshold in stats and complete enough quests, I can promote you. Each rank has different requirements, and each one will require you to complete higher-difficulty quests to advance. It should now show up on your stats page,” the clerk explains, issuing me on my way.
I immediately open my stats page to check.
Race: Goblin
Rarity: Flawed
HP: 15
Strength: 3
Speed: 2
Intellect: 5
Toughness: 3
Mana: 4
Spells: Fang of The Predator (88% Mastery)
Aura of Comfort (0% mastery)
Rank: Private
Quests needed for promotion:
F Rank- 0/50
E Rank- 0/10
D Rank- 0/1
'Wow, so I have to do 50 F-rank quests. Jeez,' I mutter, feeling both daunted and determined.
With my token secured and the rank of Private officially in my stats, I head straight back to the training grounds. The air is cooler now, and the crowd has thinned out, leaving only a handful of goblins and orcs still sparring or practicing spells. I take a deep breath, feeling a surge of determination. This is it. Time to master this spell.
I position myself in front of the training dummy. The familiar surge of primal energy begins coursing through my body as I close my eyes. I imagine my teeth growing sharper, deadlier, as the energy flows into my mouth. The image feels so vivid now that it almost seems second nature.
No more holding back, I think as I lunge forward, sinking my teeth into the dummy with all my strength. The impact is harder, faster, and more precise than ever before. The material splinters under my bite, sending small fragments flying. A low growl escapes my throat as I bite again, harder this time, tearing chunks out of the dummy.
“Still at it, huh?” a voice sneers from behind me, breaking my focus.
I turn around to see a goblin with bright orange hair tied into messy spikes. His skin is a deep, forest green, and he’s leaning casually against a nearby pillar, arms crossed, a smug smirk plastered across his face.
“What’s it to you?” I reply, wiping some of the dummy’s debris off my mouth.
“Just wondering why a flawed goblin like you is even bothering,” he says, his smirk widening. “I mean, come on, Fangs of the Predator? A common spell? It’s taking you this long to master it?” He lets out a laugh, sharp and grating. “I’d have finished that in, what, half a day?”
I clench my fists, but I force myself to stay calm. “Not everyone learns at the same speed. I’ll get it done, and when I do, I’ll be stronger for it.”
“Oh, sure, stronger,” he mocks, mimicking my tone. “You’re flawed, kid. That’s not strength—that’s a joke. You’ll be lucky to survive your first real fight.” He pushes off the pillar and strolls closer, his smirk turning into a sneer. “If I were you, I’d quit now and save myself the embarrassment.”
I take a deep breath, trying to push down the anger bubbling inside me. Instead of responding, I turn back to the dummy and channel my focus. Prove him wrong. Don’t let him distract you.
“Oh, silent treatment now? That’s fine. Just remember, flawed goblins like you? You’re expendable. You’ll learn that the hard way soon enough.” With a derisive laugh, he walks away, leaving his words hanging in the air.
For a moment, I feel the sting of his insults, but then I grit my teeth. I’ve come too far to give up now. Let him laugh. I’ll show him who’s weak.
I close my eyes again, channeling every ounce of frustration into my training. This time, the energy flows faster, hotter, as if the insult has lit a fire within me. I lunge forward, biting into the dummy with renewed ferocity. My teeth slice cleanly through the tough surface, leaving deep gouges. Over and over, I bite, faster and more precise with each strike.
After another few hours, the voice finally echoes in my head.
Step Two Complete. Mastery Achieved.
I freeze, my heart pounding. I pull up my stats to confirm.
Race: Goblin
Rarity: Flawed
HP: 20
Strength: 3
Speed: 2
Intellect: 5
Toughness: 4
Mana: 4
Spells: Fang of The Predator (100% Mastery)
Aura of Comfort (0% mastery)
In the middle of training, I didn’t even notice that my toughness and HP had increased. It’s now 8 PM, so I start heading back to the barracks to meet up with Goobs and Evela. They did mention wanting to do a quest today.
When I arrive, I see them preparing. Goobs is polishing his lance, and Evela is packing a wand along with some rations and camping gear.
“Great, you’re back, Gutter. Evela went and picked up a quest for us to do,” Goobs says, nodding toward the piece of paper in her hand.
“Oh? Which quest is it?” I ask.
Evela speaks up. “It’s an F-rank quest to slay five wolves and bring them back to the butcher.”
“Nice! I have to do 50 of those to rank up,” I say, my excitement bubbling up.
“Don’t expect that to happen overnight, Gutter. It’s still pretty tough to complete an F-rank quest with our current skills. I think we’ll probably be able to tackle an E-rank quest once you’re battle-ready,” Goobs says, smiling at the thought.
“Wait, you guys haven’t done an E-rank quest before?” I ask, surprised.
“We have, but only ones that should’ve been in the F-rank category. Technically, we haven’t completed a full-fledged E-rank quest. They’re too difficult for the skills we have right now, but with you, we can do much more,” Goobs replies, looking down.
As they pack their supplies, I realize something. “Uh... I don’t have any rations or camping gear,” I admit, scratching the back of my head.
Evela sighs but smiles. “Well, we can share this time, but you’ll need to start getting your own gear soon, Gutter. Rations and supplies are essentials for any quest. You don’t want to be caught without food or a way to set up camp—it could cost you your life.”
Goobs nods in agreement. “She’s right. Out there, it’s not just about fighting; it’s about surviving. If you run out of food or water, you’re as good as dead. That’s why we always carry enough to last a few extra days, just in case something goes wrong.”
“Got it,” I say, trying to take mental notes. “Stick together, bring enough supplies, and plan for the worst.”
“Exactly,” Evela says, handing me a small pouch with some dried meat and a water flask. “Here, this will hold you over for now. We’ll split the tent, too. Just make sure you’re ready next time.”
“Thanks. I owe you both,” I say, taking the items gratefully.
Goobs leans on his lance and gives me a serious look. “One more thing, Gutter. When we’re out there, you need to stay close to us. No wandering off, no playing hero. If you get separated, you’re as good as dead. Wolves might not sound like much, but they hunt in packs. They’ll tear you apart if you’re alone.”
“Understood,” I reply, feeling the weight of his words.
Evela claps her hands together, breaking the tension. “Alright, then. Let’s head out first thing in the morning. If we start tomorrow, it’ll count toward next month’s quests, which means we’ll all be one step closer to staying in the barracks for free.”
Goobs smirks. “Smart thinking, Evela. No sense rushing out now when it won’t help us make the quota.”
“Agreed,” I say. “Tomorrow morning it is.”
The three of us nod in unison, the plan set. As they continue their preparations, I head to my corner of the room to lie down and reflect. This would be my first real quest, and the stakes were higher than I’d imagined. I silently vow to pull my weight and prove that I belong here.