After that painful leveling experience, my status now looks like this.

{Name - Rick}

{Age - 20}

{Race - Royal Goblin}

{Tier 2}

{Essence - }

{Evo Points - 5/180}

{Skills}

{Velora}

Exactly as expected, I'll have to remember in the future to absorb when I can, so I’m not incapacitated for long periods of time. Now with it being only day two I wonder how much longer I should stay away? I have already progressed so much in a measly two days that it feels a little pointless to stay out for longer.

I’m a little worried about the tribe but surely Jaba has it under control right? It would really suck returning home to a destroyed

tribe, because at the end of the day, what’s a Goblin without his tribe? Nothing that is. A Goblin should be around other Goblins, especially when it seems like everything in this world seems to want to wipe us off the map or take advantage of us. Sooo...despite everything I just said… I’ll stay out a little longer.. at least until all the pelts are fully dry and I can walk back home somewhat clothed. I need to maintain some sort of dignity!

Well, I guess I just need to go around killing a bunch of monsters, do a little training with punches and stuff, maybe even practice making a better spear. I’ll do all of this until I reach a satisfactory level with my skills.

Okay, lets use the last bit of daylight I have left to dispose of the wolf remains at a location far from here so as to not attract monsters to my rest spot. After that, it’s eating a little, a bit of rest for the night, then continue to hunt until I reach where I want to be!

And that is exactly what Rick did for three whole entire weeks. He hunted monsters of various sizes, strengths, and abilities. From small strong ones to big weak ones, he’d fought and killed it all.

He’d done so much relentless fighting over the course of that three week span that you could no longer refer to him as just a regular Goblin.

Not that he was ever regular in the first place.

Even calling him a strong Goblin might not do him the appropriate justice. No, Rick could only be described in one word, a Warrior.

Okay maybe that's a bit of a stretch, but an aspiring warrior at least! He definitely became better at fighting over the course of the past three weeks, and although he never really figured out how to make a perfect spear, his close combat abilities improved leaps and bounds with each battle he fought. Of course being forced to fight for the first couple days of that week with his crown jewels on the line helped force him to be better.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Though eventually he was able to string together something resembling a skirt to wrap around his waist and cover his prized possessions, the zeal he fought with didn’t seem to stop after that.

As if he was born to battle, born to fight, born to give his opponents every single thing he could bring forth and then some, Rick grew stronger. On the inside he was still that cheerful Goblin, who only sought to better his race, but he became a different being altogether once engaged in battle.

He became an existence that only yearned for the absolute decimation of any adversary he seemed to face, but accompanying this yearning was the pure joy he experienced in any fight he participated in. Or at least that's how Rick saw himself in his head.

Something he thought he’d only do out of necessity, he developed a solid and profound love for the ways of battle, but he never let this deep love distract him from the fight or urge him into reckless decisions.

This was partly due to the respect he gained for fighting. He eventually seemed to believe that a fight should be ended at the earliest convenience, meaning mercy, and hesitation were two

words he started to distant with. Though one could also say there was mercy in a swift kill.

He wholeheartedly thought that a true fight should end as quickly as the fighter’s abilities dictate, but each second of that fight should be enjoyed to the fullest extent.

One might question how someone could change so much in the span of just three weeks , but they would fail to realize the gravity of getting into fights where your life (and jewels) were on the line for every single second of every fight for that entire time, due to that, it's no surprise that Rick’s mentality went through such a drastic change.

Even though his personality was still the same, his views on battling and his strength and technique in said battles both went through significant changes.

This brings us to the current situation, a situation deep in the forests north of the lake, where Rick stood unabated in front of the strongest monster he had seen since entering the forest. In fact,

Rick believed this monster might be stronger than the wolf that he and Jaba almost died fighting.

Standing not too far from the beast was a tall and muscular Goblin with tribal like tattoos covering his left shoulder down to his elbow, and likewise covered from head to toe in the pelts he got from killing various beats such as wolves and even some type of monster deer, and while some pieces like the loincloth around his waist were crudely made, others such as his makeshift vest showed off just how much effort he placed into getting better at skinning.

With his latest attempt at making a wooden spear that matched him in height and was topped with a sharpened bone that took him one entire day to make, and a couple of rather long fangs now turned daggers at his waist, Rick stood his ground firmly in the face of the beast in front of him.

Not taking a step forward or backward, he just stood there, with every single cell in his body screaming danger.

Apart from his natural instincts telling him to flee, there were two reasons that caused additional worry for Rick, the first one being

that when Velora tried to use discern on the creature, only question marks showed up.

The other reason, and probably the reason that brought Rick more worry was the fact the creature spoke to him.

“Haven’t seen a Goblin of your size in a long time. Where’d you come from?” Said a foxlike creature that only reached Rick’s waist in height at it's head, it was covered in a caramel color pelt that was dotted with black spots.

The feature that stood out the most, though, was its eyes. Pitch black, with fiery blazing red pupils in the center.

Just looking into its eyes was enough to give Rick a sense of fear. Although this foxlike monster was smaller than Rick, it definitely

wasn’t any weaker, something Rick could immediately feel.

So with no apparent way to beat or safely flee from the monster, Rick could only respond to its question as he remained in a constant state of alertness.

“South of here.” Replied an extremely tense Rick. Although he spoke somewhat calmly, his mind was anything but.

FUUCCKKKKK, WHERE THE HELL DID THIS DAMN

DEMON FOX THING COME FROM!!

Velora!! There has to be a way to get out of this right?! Please tell me you have a solution!

[The situation exceeds current capabilities, I advise caution.]

Dammit!

“South huh. Are there more of you?”

There’s no way I can sell out my fellow Goblins back home right?!

What the hell do I even say?!