A thick, leafy branch smacks me out of my daze. “Ow…” I blink to get rid of dancing white spots. Goblin A plods onward, either unaware or uncaring of its actions. “I know you didn’t mean to do it.” I glare at its exposed back. “But that doesn’t make it any less annoying.”

I brush my knuckles over the bruised skin, soothing it with the caress of smooth leather. The cuts on my forehead have just stopped bleeding and now I have a new injury to add to the collection. Great.

“I feel like the day should already be over… how is it still so bright?” I pause to raise my head, looking up at the unfettered blue sky. I didn’t give it any thought before, but I wonder how time functions here. With how bright it still is despite how long we’ve travelled, does a day still consist of twenty four hours?

Maybe my perception of time got messed up when I died, but it feels like we’ve been walking forever. We are now cutting through sun dappled grass fields, the forest reduced to a thin, brown mass behind us.  I can see a sort of building nearby, which is probably where we’re headed. It can’t be anything else since there’s nothing but grass in sight. Beyond those ruins, all that awaits is another vague outline of a forest.

We’re moving at a good pace and with humans accompanying us, you’d think it would finally be time to relax. I mean, it’s thanks to these disgruntled escorts we made it out of the miserable forest alive. Not that we’ve had to fight off another monster, since the predators that lurked seemed to lack confidence to attack a nine person strong group.

I was initially excited to finally meet a bunch of people. Now though, I’m starting to rethink my decision.

“Hurry your scrawny asses!” Near the head of the pack, the grizzled man smacks the back of a goblin’s head with his scabbard. He’d passed off his sacks when we’d left the forest and the remaining goblins from Guts’ group have returned to being pack mules. “Any slower than you already are, even your bones will be used to pick your boss’ teeth.”

“Leon! If you hit them any harder, you’ll kill them before we get there.” The man who says this has a frightful scar running down one side of his face, his left eye sealed shut. “Do you want to be gutted for wasting Lord Asura’s effort?”

“These midget beasts wouldn’t be so useful if they kicked the bucket that easily.” Leon rolls his shoulders in a casual shrug. “No need to get worked up. If we accidentally kill one, we can just say it was the fault of his bird brained soldier,” he says, looking off to the side. “He’s already lost two. Losing another won’t make his boss less pissed.”

Guts perks up. “Human of master, when we find Borg, remember help to say truth. I tell Borg about good human treasure I find, you tell Borg about our fight with big monster.”

A stretch of silence follows. After a solid minute of sounds only from the thump of boots and the clang of metal buckles and chains, Guts speaks up again. “Me know humans sometimes stupid, so me just reminding you.”

This is the third time Guts has brought up the topic. I wonder how terrifying Borg is. He must be frightening to be to keep a group of instinct driven creatures with enormous brute strength in line. I wonder what kind of human is capable of doing that.

I rub my arms. Can’t say I’m thrilled that we’re heading to meet him.

“Right, I almost forgot,” Leon chuckles. “Thanks for reminding me. I’ll definitely ask if I can use one of the female prisoners for a good lay, later.”

“Bah!” Guts’ enraged yell earns him more mocking laughter from Leon and his men. “This why orcs better than human. Humans always no listen!” He moves up to the front of the group stays there.

I wince. Maybe it’s because Guts didn’t cross me like Grit did, but I feel kind of bad for him. It doesn’t take a genius to know their consistent deflections to answer him hints at what Borg’s attitude will be when we meet him.

None of the men have said much outside of mouthing threats to us goblins and making the occasional, scathing comment at Guts. Surely, these people must have better things to discuss or useful information worth talking about.

“Babysitting Borg’s stupid underlings always sucks the energy out of me,” Leon groans. “On the topic of prisoners, who are you boys gonna pick when we get back?” He makes a gesture to grab the other men. “Scar?”

The man with the scar, apparently aptly named, hums softly. “Not feelin’ it today. I’ll grab some booze and hole up in my room when we get back.”

“You really a man?” Leon scoffs. “Forget I asked. You, Rye?”  

“I might get a piece of the Berkut lady again,” Rye says, shifting the sack from his left shoulder to his right. His blazing red hair, cropped into a crew cut, looks decidedly out of place. I can’t tell if its dye or his natural hair colour. “After tasting nobles, I can’t go back to normal whores. Their bodies just don’t taste the same. It’s like going back to leftovers after eating a delicious cut of meat.”

The men break out in a round of raucous chuckling. Ugh. Even if I didn’t have heightened hearing, they’re not making effort to keep their voices down. Not that they have to, seeing as we’re in the middle of nowhere, but it’s the principle of the matter… leave bedroom talk where it belongs, please.

“What about you, Leon? Gonna call on that bitchy one, what was her name…” Rye snaps his fingers. “Layle?”

“Layla,” Leon corrects. “You used to always jump her when you got a turn and you can’t even remember her name. Yappin’ idiot.”

“Whatever. Why do I have to care what I call her? Won’t make her any less of a stuck up cunt,” Rye argued. “So I was right, then. You’re picking Layla this time?”

“Nah, not her.” Leon’s voice takes on a conspiratorial tone. “I’m taking the only worthy piece of ass among them.” He slows his steps, backing up until he’s right beside the young girl.

She tenses at his approach, shrinking smaller than she already is when he gets near. The girl is about two arm lengths away from me and Leon is close enough that I can make out the blemishes on the back of his leather armour.

“Do you know who I’m talking about, Fae?”

“Leon,” Scar interjects. “This kinda talk should stay among us.”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“I’m makin’ conversation.” Leon leans closer to the girl called Fae. I watch her shoulders go bowstring tense. “I can’t exclude her, can I? After all, I’m bedding her mother whenever I get the chance. Hell, I’m practically her father with how much time I spent watching over her.”

Rye snorts. “And you say I yap too much.”

“I hope you’re not mad that I take up so much of your mom’s time,” Leon says. “She’s the one who asks me to bring you out of that castle, you know.”

“I am aware,” Fae answers in a quiet but firm voice. “Thank you for your consideration.”

“No need for that,” he says. “I’m not an idiot. It’s not smart to let talent waste away, even if you aren’t of age. Casting magic like you do ain’t an easy feat, and you don’t even got a class like we do. It’s damn amazing.”

“I was lucky to have good teachers. My father spared no expense.”

“Theory is theory, you’ve got the practical experience to back it up. You’re lucky in one way, though. The amount of SP you have is way more than me and the guys combined.” Leon lets out a little laugh. “I wonder how much of it you’ve got. Maybe you’ll let me test how deep it goes, sometime.”

“Leon,” Scar snaps, whipping around to face our direction. “Stop running your mouth and help me with one of these sacks.”

“You hear that, Fae?” Leon says. “Keh, even I’ve got to help with grunt work. No one’s exempt. One of these days, you’ll probably need to help me with some things, too.”

He jerks to a stop when a clump of dirt hits him in the back of his legs. He looks over his shoulder, face twisting in a nasty glare. “What the blessed hell–”

I purposely trip over my feet and go down with an exaggerated wail of “Gegege!”

If I’m right, the man is simply going to write it off. Unless he’s in a terrible mood, he probably wouldn’t bother getting involved with ‘lesser creatures’.

I’m proven right a second later. He makes a disgusted sound but doesn’t do anything else. I’m glad I’m on the ground, it’s easier to hide my grin.

“Dumb beasts... If they weren’t so useful, I’d convince Lord Asura to stop breeding these mutts,” he says. A chorus of grunts answer him. Whatever, assholes. At least I stopped a grown ass man from flirting with a kid. “You didn’t get hit, did you, Fae girl?”

“I’m fine.”

“Well then, what was I saying?” Damn, he’s still not leaving. This calls for grave measures.

I start flailing about, doing a pretty good impression of that one pokemon. I kick up dirt, yelling, “Gege! Gege!”

“What the hell is wrong with that thing?” The note of disgust in Leon’s voice is clear as day. It doesn’t really sting as much as it should. I’ve embarrassed myself worse than this for less. Besides, I’m a goblin now. The concept of saving face doesn’t apply anymore.

“It looks like it requires some assistance,” Fae says. “Shall I go ahead or…?”

“Do it if you want. I ain’t wasting my energy on that pathetic creature,” Leon grunts. I cheer internally as I hear him walking away. Now all I need to do is wait for the girl to go away before I get up.

“That was a nasty fall.” Oh, wow. She was actually being truthful about helping me? I pause my random spasming when she places a hand on my head. “You’re wounded. Hm… I suppose it should be fine to cast a simple spell if we’re this near the meeting point.”

A spell? On me? She isn’t going to set me on fire or cut me into bits with her wind, I hope. Thinking that, I go completely still.

“,” Fae says.  

A layer of green light covers my body in a thin film. I stare at the cloudy steam enveloping my arms, the luminescent green lights making the shade of my skin prettier than it looks. When Fae retrieves her hand, the light has completely disappears. I have to wonder if it’s a trick or sun reflecting off the grass around us.

I touch the bruise on my face. It’s gone. I drag my hand up to my forehead. The shallow cuts given by the Serpent Glade have also disappeared. I don’t feel the light sting of it like I did before.

“Try to keep up. We’re almost there,” Fae says as she helps me to my feet. When she turns her back on me and speed up, returning to her previous position, my feet automatically follow suit. I resume walking and  catch up with the hobbling Goblin A.

I come up beside the goblin to look him. Making sure Fae is out of earshot, I whisper, “For a kid… she’s surprisingly mature.” It glances at me, blinks then turns away. “Unlike you.”

“Gegege.”

I don’t know if I’m just used to goblins stonewalling everything, but it feels like Goblin A is becoming feisty. I can’t be sure if it’s actually starting to grow a personality, but at least it has started to react more often.

I sigh. If only Athea was here. We’d have a field day insulting Leon and that other guy, Rye, was it? Scar has some of my respect, for his cool looking battle wound and for at least trying to defend Fae. Perhaps she was his daughter, though they look nothing alike.

Forget it, I might be reading too much into this.

“We’re almost there. Look lively, chumps. Scar, hand me of the sacks. Can’t let the boss orc think I’m acting cocky.”

Scar snorts. “Hah, so now you’d like one.”

“Just hand it over,” Leon says, stretching out a hand. “Don’t think I won’t wreck you the next time we’re sent out on another raid.”

“Try it and we’ll see who ends up bleeding. You’re shit with swords and your magic couldn’t singe off an eyebrow on your best day.”

“Cool it, you two,” Rye steps in when the argument when the tension becomes too thick to ignore. Huh, these men aren’t as close as I thought they were. “Here, just take one of my sacks, Leon.”

Scar turns to the other man, scowling. “Leon might have a level on me and two on you, but you’ve got more skill. If you’re not gonna wizen up, don’t start bitchin’ when you don’t get any rewards.” He breaks off from our group, speeding off into the crumbling stone structure we’re fast approaching.

“Scar, do you seriously think–” And off Rye goes, hot on his heels.

Leon barks out a laugh and shakes his head. Thankfully, he stews quietly in his own emotions and leaves us a measure of calm.

Finally. It only took an argument over covering someone’s ass to give me useful information. With this, I’ve confirmed humans can see the game interface, unlike orcs and goblins. Not that the latter would know what to do with the information. It is good that I’m starting to get a better picture of this world, though.

Now, let’s see what how wary I’ve got to be of this Leon chump. I discreetly raise my hand, peering through the webbing of my glove.

Leon Holt

Commoner

LVL 20

Status Effect: -

That’s the highest level I’ve seen so far. Also, what is up with that ‘commoner’ title?

Oh, right. Generally, games in the fantasy genre are set in medieval times with kingdoms and such, which means there’s a hierarchy system in place. That’s a tough way to live.

Now, what about Fae?

*Fae Brunweed*

Noble

LVL 15

Status Effect: -

…could it be that Fae’s older than she looks? For a child to be a single digit away from reaching an adult’s level, it either means levelling is harder than I think or there’s something major about how the game system operates that I haven’t uncovered.

“We reach,” Guts exclaims as we tromp into the shadowy ruins of what seems to be a castle. Moss and vines cover the surfaces of grey stone slabs that rise several meters in height. “Master’s human, remember to tell Borg what happen. Remember!”

Leon ignores him and takes to lead to bring us further in. The flooring is overgrown with weeds and grass. We walk through a number of different rooms, easily differentiated by the cracked flooring that cycles between smooth stone and marble.

When we exit the structure and step into the backyard, or perhaps a field which was once a training yard, two things immediately draw my attention.

The stone arch carved with strange runes sitting on a raised platform, and the orc standing right underneath it. He’s flanked by Scar and Rye. That can only mean that orc is who I think it is.

“You were babbling on and on about your boss,” Leon says. “Since we’re here, you can use your own mouth to tell ‘im.”

As soon as he says it, the orc that can be none other than the fabled Borg, approaches.