How To Use Console Commands

Chapter 5

Three days out from Avergreen and the party of the Dark Lord Payton Rendshaw was traveling through the thick woods surrounding Gobhood. They had opted to avoid the main roads as, if an army was indeed coming in from the throne of Faoster Goblincaller, it would likely be taking that route. It meant that their trip would be longer but it was better than being outnumbered by countless well-armed men.

Payton could not help but wonder how Ghorrend and the rest of Avergreen was doing. Scouts would have likely picked up the approaching patrols by now. With an extra three days of preparation, the town he had annexed from Gobhood should be more than prepared for a group of soldiers.

I hope...

He took the wineskin filled with water that was hanging from his shoulder, tipped it towards his muzzle and took a long drink. Part of him missed stimulants such as coffee or energy drinks or even the sweet taste of bubbly carbonated beverages. Traveling on foot, however, required real hydration and not something sugary. It was a pity that the horses Gaolsheer had brought were killed or needed back on Avergreen. They could have used five of them to get to Gobhood quicker.

Then again, I doubt horses could make it through this thick underbrush.

His thoughts were interrupted when Durandal suddenly pressed a hand against his chest and pushed him back protectively. A short distance away, there was a man crouched over a campfire, humming quietly to himself while cooking something on a thick, black skillet. The smell of bacon, eggs, herbs and spices filled the air and made Payton's muzzle water. While their meals on the road had been filling thus far, they were mostly bland. Tartarius wasn't that skilled in the craft and while Axter's Skill level was slightly higher, he wasn't cooking up gourmet meals.

"Oh damn..." Payton mumbled. "That smells heavenly."

Too late he realized that he had said that aloud. The man turned in their direction, big, bushy, brown eyebrows lifting in surprise.

This bear of a man then beamed and waved them over.

"Stay on your guard," rumbled Durandal. "He is human."

I dunno if I like the idea of Grigori being wary around humans like this. It's just another kind of racism...

Payton pushed past Durandal, waving back at the man. "Good morning. I didn't mean to startle you. The smell of your breakfast was just too alluring."

The man was a giant and had to be some sort of hero or adventurer just because of his height alone. Crouched over the fire as he was, he was about Payton's height so when he stood, he was likely about as tall as Axter. A thick, bushy beard wrapped around his cheeks, concealing his chin and giving him a more rounded, approachable appearance. It was so thick that it seemed to seamlessly blend with the thick chest hair sprouting from his torso. His rosy cheeks were decorated by freckles and dense, curly, dark-brown hair was kept under a dirty, olive-green sun hat.

Broad shoulders that could easily rival Durandal's were contained by a dusty, white, long-sleeved tunic. A utility-jacket of sorts hung around his shoulders, draping over his thick pectorals and rounded belly. Various tools were inserted into the jacket from screwdrivers, hammers and even hand-operated drills. Hammers of different shapes and sizes hung from his belt like a metal kilt of sorts which went well with his plaid trousers. Heavy, leather boots hugged his big feet, covered in grime and mud from the road.

"Morning, friends," greeted the man. "Fancy seeing travelers on this part of the forest. Come. Sit by the fire. I have plenty to go around."

Missing the times of good bacon and eggs with a slice of toast for breakfast, Payton accepted the offer and sat down opposite the man on the fire. The stranger cracked a couple more eggs onto the large, iron skillet he was holding over the flames and slapped on a few more pieces of bacon from the pack he was carrying. He didn't seem at all perturbed by the fact that five Grigori had set themselves in front of him, most of them armed.

"So what brings you folk here?" began the titan of a man. "These are dangerous parts."

Payton offered a friendly smile as he replied. "These are dangerous times for Grigori. With the Black Halo above us, we wanted to avoid the main roads on our way to Gobhood."

That brought a surprised look from their host who easily shuffled the pan in his hand. "Gobhood? I would say that is even more dangerous for Grigori."

"Which begs the question why you are being so accommodating," Durandal growled protectively. "Most humans would have run screaming from a band of Grigori that are armed or at least looked to relieve us of our heads."

Geez, Durandal. Take it easy. Not everyone is out to kill us.

"There are more dangerous things in these woods than Grigori," the man chuckled softly.

Uh-oh... That sounds like a set-up for a killer reveal...

"You?" Payton prompted.

The man grinned brightly, an easy-going, non-menacing smile. "Perhaps but I was more referring to the bandits around these parts."

Bandits...?

"Bandits?" Ravenus repeated. "I know these woods are fraught with danger but I don't recall any major bandit clan having formed recently." He twitched his big, radar-dish ears around. "As I recall, the general threat level of this area is Level 5 at most. That's not too dangerous."

"Strong words," chuckled their host, fishing out a plate from his pack and sliding some bacon and eggs onto it. He handed the plate to Payton who eagerly devoured the meal. "You must be confident in your strength because the casual traveler would still consider a Level 5 threat dangerous." He slid the rest of the meal he had prepared onto another plate and offered it to the others. No one took it so he shrugged and set down his skillet to devour the meal himself. "I'm referring, however, to a group of escaped goblins."

Escaped goblins...? I thought those things were on a tight leash.

"You're kidding," gagged Tartarius, his eyes wide in shock. "That's bad news!"

"Why?" Payton asked before he could catch himself.

"You must be new to Lexcia," chuckled their new companion. "Goblins are much like cockroaches but they are bigger and can use tools. They breed insanely fast and shit all over the place. Within days, two goblins of opposite genders will quadruple their numbers. Newborns reach maturity within a month and each one can live up to twenty years."

Shit... I didn't know. That's kind of scary.

And also shows the kind of power Faoster and his Speakers have. Apart from summoning goblins at will, they could create masses of soldiers for relatively cheap.

"That's not accounting for the fact that goblins as a race have their 'Horde Strength' ability," the stranger said with a dismissive shrug. Seeing the confused look on Payton's face, the man continued. "When goblins multiply enough, eventually, one of them will rise to be the leader of the group which we call the 'horde'. This goblin will be many levels above the rest and have new abilities." He lifted a hand, keeping his palm flat. "After your garden-variety goblin, you'll have your Goblin Warrior..." He raised his hand a few inches. "Then Goblin Warmaster, then Goblin Lords followed by the highest rank which is a Goblin King."

Hmmm... five levels...

"I'm assuming that each of those ranks tie in with the Class levels?" he asked.

The man beamed and winked at him slyly. "You catch on fast. Yes, the average goblin can never get past Level 20 but a Goblin Warrior will reach Level 40. After that, Masters will be level 60, then Lords will be at 80 and lastly, the Kings are at the maximum level of Level 100." He turned his gaze to peer into the dark shrubbery around them. "I've heard rumors that a horde is building because some idiot lost control of his goblins and they managed to escape into the woods. It's been two months or so since that happened. We could have a Goblin Warrior running around or worse yet, a Master."

Level 40... Level 60 at most. Gaolsheer was only level 20. Are we even strong enough...?

Axter's tail hissed softly and the blue lion, who remained standing with his paws tightly clasped behind his back, spoke. "That begs the question, kind sir, what are you doing here if you are so well-informed about the dangers of these woods?"

The man beamed brightly. "Isn't it obvious? I'm here to hunt them down. It would reflect quite poorly on Gobhood if a goblin horde is allowed to grow just as our Reader arrives."

Reader!? Orphan is coming here!?

"Orphan is coming here?" blurted Tartarius, seemingly reading Payton's mind.

"Lord Orphan," corrected the adventurer. "And yes. He will be arriving in Gobhood in a few week’s time." The man waved them down, allaying their rising fears. "You don't need to worry. I'm not about to cut off your heads and offer you to him. That's not the sort of thing I'm interested in."

Payton chewed the admittedly delicious bacon slowly. "What are you interested in?"

The man's grin suddenly took a more sinister edge as he leaned forward. He hadn't touched his food even though he had finished cooking a while ago. "How about this? I've done all the talking here. I've answered all your questions. Why don't you tell me about yourselves? You said you're avoiding the main road to avoid getting sacrificed to Lord Orphan. Yet you're going to Gobhood. The one place that you would surely be recognized and immediately mobbed by the Goblin Knight's soldiers. Surely you know this. Why would you go there?"

Shit... If this guy is ready to face off against a Goblin Master that's level 60, he must be stronger.

In fact...

He focused his gaze on the man, bringing up the man's health bar. To his surprise, where normally there would be an indication of the man's level, his UI only displayed a series of question marks. That left him feeling a little more uneasy. Everyone else's levels were visible but not him?

Why?

There's only one logical conclusion.

"Allow me one more question before I answer yours," he said. The man nodded for him to proceed. Payton held up his paw and in a flash of light, immediately summoned Goblinshredder. The stranger's eyes widened in surprise but even more so after Payton's next words. "Did you make this?"

For a second, the man was speechless. Then that sinister grin returned and he set down his plate with the food on it. "Yes."

"Then you must be Hagden Hoblood. If you're out here ready to hunt down a horde of goblins by yourself, you're not only an accomplished blacksmith but also a very powerful warrior. Which leads me to conclude that you are, in fact -"

"The Greensmith!" Ravenus exclaimed, immediately reaching for his daggers.

Durandal was already drawing his blades but Payton held up his paw, staying their hands for now. He rested Goblinshredder on the ground.

"You are very astute," the Greensmith said, clasping his hands together under his chin. "I can see how you Grigori have managed to make it this far and avoid being slaughtered by the roving bands of civilians eager to prove themselves and become named. You have a unique ability as well. What is that? The ability to replicate and copy weapons?"

Replicate. He immediately knew that it's a copy. He didn't think I summoned it. He knows something.

"You'll have to forgive me if I don't divulge all of my secrets to the man who serves and likely facilitates the systematic beheading of my kind."

"Oh come now," laughed Hagden but never letting his eyes wander from Payton. "Don't you trust me? I told you I have no interest in killing you Grigori for your powers."

"I find that hard to believe," snarled Durandal.

Hagden glanced over at the four-armed boar and then returned his gaze lazily back to Payton. "The Goblin Knight might have ambitions to hunt you down and present Orphan with a record number of Grigori heads periodically but I don't. He hopes to one day be promoted to a Listener himself, you know. I have different ambitions."

"But you still serve Faoster. The man who rules these lands and who lets his soldiers and citizens treat Grigori like second-class citizens to be slaughtered at a moment's notice!" The bile and venom were dripping from each of Durandal's words. "You may not have a hand in their crimes but you are just as fucking culpable!"

Only then did the Greensmith allow his gaze to linger on the boar. "Perhaps. But wouldn't you be just as culpable if, say, the world were ended by the Dark Lord? If you stand for some sort of system of justice or peace, would you not willingly sacrifice your lives if it were to save the world?"

There, Durandal smirked.

"You don't have to worry about that," Payton said.

"And why not?" the Greensmith scoffed. "You think that because no Dark Lord has risen in all these centuries of the Black Halo that he will never come? That kind of complacency is just what -"

"It's not that." Payton rose to his feet, giving his own sinister grin at the Greensmith. "I am the Dark Lord."

Hoblood regarded him with an expression caught between disbelief and confusion. It took him a minute to compose himself. The Speaker of Gobhood gave Payton an easy-going smile.

"As your friend had said, I find that hard to believe."

Time to pull out the big guns.

With a soft whisper, he accessed Hagden Hoblood's character sheet. There was something strange about the sheet, however. While he could read everything including the extensive biography, there were little red locks placed in the corner of each section.

I wonder what that means…?

"You are currently 459 years old. You were actually Faoster's best friend and just a year younger than him. You grew up in the village of Emervale alongside him. Back then, you had no name along with Faoster. On your 15th birthday, however, goblins attacked this land which was, at the time, unclaimed by any Listener but still within Orphan's territory. Faoster fought bravely and managed to kill eleven goblins by himself and rallied the townspeople to form effective defenses. The goblins were eventually routed and Orphan, upon hearing of Faoster's bravery, trained him to become a Listener. You remained in the village to help it rebuild and seven years later, when you were just training to become a blacksmith, Faoster asked you to be his Speaker. He wanted to create a bastion against goblins and needed someone by his side apart from his existing party."

"That is common knowledge."

Okay... got to dig deeper.

"Is it common knowledge that you bore a burning resentment towards goblins since that day? Is it common knowledge that even back then, you were experimenting with goblin blood as a way to empower weaponry? What about the fact that you used your own sister's spine in the first weapon that you ever forged?"

Hagden recoiled in surprise. "Only a few know about Verdant Revenge's true origins..."

"I know more," Payton pressed, reading the exceedingly long biography. Nearly 500 years’ worth of heroic deeds was a lot to go through. "Like, for instance, that you naturally couldn't become a Speaker off the bat and needed to reach Level 100 before Faoster could fully promote you. He wasn't a Listener at that point as he was still in training under Orphan but he gave you a name and set you on your way. He gave you every part of his allowance from Orphan to start you off. Your first adventuring group, Unbridled Hope, went into a dungeon filled with goblins on your insistence. The story goes that they were all killed but you managed to survive and slay the rest of the goblins."

His eyes narrowed.

"The truth of the matter is that your companions were grievously wounded in the battle but not entirely dead when you won. They were beyond saving so you mercy-killed all four them and then harvested their organs to make your next weapons. Your sister was amongst them."

Hagden's left eye twitched and he began stroking his beard.

"Should I go on?"

The Greensmith shook his head. "No. You have made your point." He took another second to compose himself. "I have never heard of a Grigori having more than one ability before. Though I suppose it is entirely possible that one of your companions is merely talking through you using another ability but given what I have experienced, I doubt that is the case."

What does he mean by that?"

"Allow me to educate you about the way blacksmithing works," said Hagden, lifting a finger. "There is a skill for a Level 100 Grandmaster with maximized Blacksmithing. It's called Art of Creation. Every person who creates something in this world will always have their name emblazoned on their creation if they are named. Aside from the fact that it is a signature, it is of little use until you learn Art of Creation. With that, you can immediately sense when something drastic happens to your creation."

Wait... does that mean...?

"It's really quite logical," said the big man with the thick beard. "Anything you produce is equivalent to a national treasure. You'd naturally want to keep track of it in case it were ever destroyed. So imagine my surprise when I felt that something I created..." He eyed Goblinshredder closely. "... was suddenly duplicated and destroyed multiple times a few days ago."

Panic began setting in. Ice flooded his veins, threatening to freeze him in place.

Okay. Okay. Calm down Payton. He now knows you're the Dark Lord and is playing his cards close to his chest.

What do you do?

Coolly threaten him.

"Oh," the wolf replied nonchalantly. "You mean this?"

He glanced upwards, immediately calling upon the SpawnItematLoc command to summon a dozen Goblinshredders in the air. All twelve magical axes came hurtling downward. They bit into the grass all around Hagden, completely surrounding him.

"Fascinating," mused the Greensmith. He rose from where he was seated and ran his hands over the black hafts of the weapons. "Perfect copies. Down to the last detail. Even the Skills and statistics are identical. No smith, no matter how skilled, can do that." He ran his hands through his beard again. "Even if you use the same materials, craft it in the same place, under the same conditions, every weapon will always be different and yet these are exact copies..."

Payton twitched an ear, silently invoking the SetDurability 0 command on each of the Goblinshredders. All twelve of the weapons immediately shattered into dust. Hagden seemed disappointed but that easy-going smile returned and he sat back down on the small log he had been occupying.

"Dark Lord or not, your skill could be very useful in general. Countless people would die for the very same legendary or unique weapons as their heroes. You could become a very wealthy wolf, even if you were a Grigori, for this skill. I'm sure even the Readers would be willing to avoid killing you for this very same power."

"Or they'd try and kill him to hoard it for themselves," growled Tartarius.

"Perhaps," Hagden answered with a shrug. "But it would be a rather big safety net if you were to accumulate vast swathes of powerful weapons and buy out mercenaries to defend you. You could even start your own little nation. Perhaps make Avergreen your capital."

The mention of the town they had left days ago immediately sent alarm bells ringing in Payton's mind. None of them had mentioned where they had come from. Add to the fact that Art of Creation could track what happened to an item and there was only one person who wielded Goblinshredder, a terrifying conclusion came crashing upon him.

I made a big mistake.

By constantly cloning and replicating Goblinshredder, he had alerted Hagden about his abilities. Gaolsheer was the only one who wielded the weapon and he had clearly notified Gobhood about his intentions to raze Avergreen. That could only mean one thing...

"What did you do?" he growled, fangs bared.

The sinister smile touched Hagden's features. "You said so yourself, I'm 459 years old. You don't get to live that long as a Speaker without being a little cautious.” The Greensmith lifted his head slightly, looking down his nose at Payton. “The Goblin Knight may be younger than me but he's a cunning tactician and, coupled with the information I gave him about Goblinshredder, he wasn't just going to send a simple patrol out to deal with a potential problem that could clone unique weaponry and defeat an admittedly dense Level 20 named."

The Greensmith's grin obtained a smug edge. "Now I can tell from all of your equipment that you're not very high levelled. Little more than insects to me, really. However, you certainly do have quite powerful abilities." He wagged a finger at the wolf. "The last thing a blacksmith should ever do is fight a man who can replicate his greatest creations and destroy them with ease. I am clearly at a disadvantage here."

"So I say we kill him!" barked Tartarius. "Let's kill him and hurry back to Avergreen!"

"You could," chuckled the blacksmith. "But let's not forget that I am a Level 100 Speaker. While I have no doubt that I would fall to you eventually, I can likely delay you from reaching your precious town long enough for those Gobhood soldiers to raze it to the ground."

He's right, Payton realized, his heart sinking to his stomach. We've got a prime opportunity right here to severely cripple Gobhood. Taking down one of their Speakers would be a blow they'd never recover from!

But if we do... then Ghorrend and Gobhood are toast!

"So what will it be, 'Dark Lord'?" taunted Hagden, leaning forward with a dark smile on his features. "Will you save Avergreen and let the opportunity of taking my life slip through your fingers or will you slay me here and now while sacrificing your beloved town?"

"Calling the town I annexed less than a week ago my 'beloved' is stretching it," Payton growled.

But he's right. What kind of person would I be if I let all those people there just die!

I could put my faith in Ghorrend and hope that he'll pull through... but at the same time, Axter is our highest ranking member and he's just Level 3! Against a Level 100, even with me, it'd be suicide!

It could also be a bluff. This guy is a blacksmith. He's not a front-line fighter. At least not anymore. He could be doing this to buy himself time and the group sent to Avergreen really is just weak.

But he makes so much sense!

"Kill him," snarled Durandal. "You still have that ability, Payton. That instant-kill ability. He doesn't know about that." The boar grinned savagely. "You may think you can prolong the fight, Hoblood, but the Dark Lord has more powers than you can ever dream of. Greater than any Reader! We kill him, end the fight instantly, then we head back to Avergreen. Simple as that."

He's got a point... But Deleting him outright...? Is that really the way? Besides, can I actually delete him? What’s with those red locks?

"Avergreen takes priority," Ravenus pleaded. "We can fight him another day. Besides, he said Orphan is going to be going to Gobhood. If we kill one of Gobhood's Speakers while Orphan is in close proximity, we'll be provoking him! We might save Avergreen now but then we'd have a Reader come bearing down on us!"

Fuck! He's right too!

Tartarius grunted loudly, running his thumb along the length of his horn. "We could always kill him and charge into Gobhood anyway. We left Ghorrend with what we could set up in the short time and we've got to have faith in him. He might end up dying but he'll bleed Gobhood and make our lives easier."

I guess he's still a little resentful against Ghorrend but it's a valid argument. I don't think Ghorrend will forgive me if I come rushing to his rescue over nothing.

"I'll trust your judgment, Master," Axter said gravely. "But in my opinion, Ghorrend deserves a chance to redeem himself. Our goal is to free the people from the Speakers, Listeners and Readers. Unfortunately, we won't be able to save everyone."

That's the unfortunate truth. We can't save everyone. People will die... and I won't be able to convert everyone like I did with Ghorrend...

... but we have to try.

"Allow me to throw one more wrench in the works," Hagden began, grinned at them savagely. "We Speakers aren't just the lieutenants of the Listener, you know." He lifted a big, hairy hand, palm facing upwards. "We genuinely represent a pillar of society within this province. The entire way of life in Faoster's province was built on our abilities and skills."

"What's your point?" Payton growled.

Hagden leaned forward, perching his arm against his knee. "You don't seem to be the kind of Dark Lord that's out to just destroy everything and leave it in ashes. You're out for conquest not destruction. So consider this: what will happen after you kill us?"

"Huh?"

"Master," Axter began softly. "He posits the question of what will replace him and the others once they are gone."

The Greensmith leaned back and smirked. "He's a smart one, your lion. Yes. The Goblin Knight keeps law and order. He is the leader of the military and indeed is what keeps the goblins well-trained. The Emerald Mage maintains the economy and it is his shrewd business acumen that manages to balance the twin currencies of goblins and gold in check. The Head Chef of the Greenworks supplies free food to not only Gobhood but even to other townships. Take that away and the people will starve. And I... well..."

The hairy man laughed softly and pressed a hand against his chest. "I'm the one that maintains the mechanisms and equipment of everyone. I built Goblinshredder. Without me... well... You can imagine the region will crumble as there is nothing to maintain the various tools that I created. Let's also not forget that it is Faoster's efforts that keeps all goblins in check. The entire goblin population in this region is mostly controlled and summoned by Faoster. Without him, well..." Hagden gestured vaguely at their surroundings. "You remember what I said about how quickly goblins breed. My point is..."

Hagden's eyes narrowed at Payton. "Are you ready to shoulder the burden of the entire province?"

Or I could just destroy them all. Burn it all to the ground. Maybe it'd be a mercy for all the people who have become so complacent in their lives.

Payton found himself shaking with indecision. This was his fault. He had flaunted his power far too readily and now the consequences were bearing down on him. A crossroads sat before him, a step that would define his future path as a Dark Lord. Would he be the Dark Lord that blindly brought destruction upon the land... or would he be a benevolent conqueror?

He found himself idly wishing for the days when he was just idly plodding along with his life, with no ambitions, no strong desires, no need to look too far in the future and just tackling each day as it came.

I've made my decision...

He sighed, shrugging absently and idly waving dismissively at Greensmith. "I commend your silver tongue. You really had me going there for a bit. But I honestly can't be bothered to waste my resources on someone as cowardly as you."

Hagden's bushy brows knotted together in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"You're passing judgment on me by saying that the next decision I make will define what kind of Dark Lord I am." He lifted his right paw. "On the one hand, I go back to Avergreen and save the people I liberated from your cruel rule." Then he lifted his left. "On the other, I kill you and potentially delay my rescue, leading to more deaths. I've been given a few good options from my advisers as well but it basically boils down to those two options. The way I see it, there is only one option for me because you have already made that decision for me."

The Greensmith's features were unflinching. "Is that so?"

"Indeed. See, what you're failing consider is the fact that no matter what happens, the men you sent to Avergreen are dead."

He felt his friends go rigid in response and even Hagden's eyes narrowed further, his grin fading into a terse, tight-lipped smile.

"They can die against my troops in Avergreen," Payton said, lifting a finger for each scenario. "I rush over there and kill them or they end up dying at my hands at a later date. No matter what, they die and thus far, you have made no effort to try and rescue them. That is exactly what I'd be doing if I were to kill you here and now or go straight to Gobhood. In my opinion, that is extremely cowardly. You've put so little value on their lives that they're not even worth considering saving even if they are high enough level to meet a threat that felled Gaolsheer. That is not the kind of Dark Lord I want to be. So I only have one choice."

He turned his back to Hagden, meeting the pleased expressions of his friends and party members. "I'll be taking my leave and returning to Avergreen. I trust you can deal with the rogue goblins on your own. You might even want to try recruiting them. They might be more fodder for you to throw at me to stall your inevitable doom."

The tall hairy man rose from his seat for the first time in their conversation. His eight-foot height towered over Payton, casting a looming shadow over the wolf.

"And you won't take advantage of killing me?" he boomed. "Afraid that you'll cripple Gobhood beyond repair with my death?"

Yes but I'll never admit that.

"No," Payton answered, glancing dismissively over his shoulder. "There's no better way to rebuild an already rotting, festering society that burning it to the ground and nurturing the strong from the ashes. I'm choosing not to kill you because this insult is a far more grievous wound than any mortal blow. My words are going to burn into your mind, they're going to brand your very soul. They'll hurt, get infected and torment you for the rest of your days until the moment when you come begging for me to end your miserable life."

He waved a paw in a circle beside his head. "Let's go. We're done here."

His heart danced at a staccato rhythm in his stomach, pleading for him to turn back around and watch Hagden Hoblood or at least activate God Mode just in case. However, he stayed true to his path and strode away from the small camp the Greensmith made. Even when Durandal positioned himself behind Payton and Axter and Ravenus flanked him, he didn't feel entirely safe for an entire fifteen minutes when they were a good distance away from Hagden.

"That... That was incredibly impressive, Your Evilness," chuckled Tartarius after another two minutes of silence. "Fucking-A! You turned it around on him!"

Only then did Payton allow himself to turn around slightly. There was no mad, hairy bear of a man charging at them. He was safe. Mentally, he sighed, collapsed on the ground and melted into a puddle of released tension. Physically, he turned his head away from the Greensmith's direction with a huff.

"His attempt to outwit and corner me was awfully transparent. I have no doubt that he had some escape plan should we have engaged him in battle. Something that he would have pulled at the last moment to flee from us after delaying us with a long, protracted fight."

I mean, that's what the villains always do in these kinds of showdowns where time is a factor.

Still... HOLY-MOTHERFUCKING-CHRIST! That was goddamn intense!

"We need to hurry back to Avergreen," Ravenus insisted. "If what Hagden said was even remotely true, then the forces pitched against Ghorrend are many times stronger than we anticipated!"

"I can maybe get myself there really fast," Payton said. "Almost instantaneously if I'm guessing right. But I don't know if I can take anyone else with me. It's best if I go ahead and you follow behind."

"We can't just let you go off by yourself!" Durandal exclaimed. "What if you land in the middle of a warzone?"

Payton flipped open his book, turning to the page with the coordinates he had jotted down several days earlier. "You've seen me against Gaolsheer. Nothing they do will harm me."

"But we still have to go with you. We're your bodyguards! We have to."

"Like I said, I don't know if I can even take you with me."

He had never tried this command before and he was afraid that if he made any assumptions, this world would punish him for using these console commands. There were clearly consequences to using the commands. If he knew his videogames, using any sort of cheat could cause massive instability in the system. His overuse of the GetItem and SpawnItem commands had already landed him in hot water with Gobhood.

"At least allow me to come with you, Master," Axter said, placing a paw against his chest. "Even if it does not work, at the very least three of the four of us will make it."

"I don't like gambling with anyone's lives, Axter."

"I trust you, Master," said the chimera with a bright smile. "Please, trust in me."

There was no time to argue. He had already wasted enough time with the Greensmith. "Alright. Fine." He glanced towards Durandal. "Get back to Avergreen as fast as you can. Be careful if Hoblood decides to come after you."

"We'll make haste," Durandal answered, slamming a fist against his chest.

Payton held out his paw and Axter gripped it tightly. "Here we go..." he breathed. "SetLoc..."

The world around both him and Axter was immediately engulfed in a blurring shadow like someone had taken a big paintbrush and began smudging black all over their surroundings. Despite the lack of light, Payton could still see himself and Axter clearly. To his surprise, the blue-furred chimera didn't flinch or show signs of fear, more like surprise and awe. As quickly as the darkness came, light spilled back in.

Then came the ash and smoke.

"Oh no..." Axter breathed.

_ _

******

Level 30.

That was the minimum level of the 100 foot soldiers that had come charging out of the woods and demanded the surrender of Avergreen. 100 soldiers accompanied by twenty field engineers. Ghorrend's heart sank when, upon delivering he refusal, the engineers immediately went to creating siege engines.

Their primary defenses hadn't lasted long.

"Retreat!" he bellowed. "Bloodguard! Retreat!"

The red-armored soldiers jumped off the rough stone and wood palisade, charging back down the abandoned streets of Avergreen. Arrows from the fifty or so soldiers with ranged weapons hailed down upon them. Even in the face of overwhelming odds, his Bloodguard raised their shields and weathered the storm of projectiles while performing their retreat tactics.

In groups of threes, two of the Bloodguard would lift their shields to defend the third who was cauldrons of tar all over the back of the wall - out of sight of the approaching soldiers. His own men fired arrows back but none of their Level 1 - 6 weapons could do more than mildly irritate the Gobhood soldiers.

These men were from the Flourishing Walls - the outer most ward of Gobhood and the soldiers under the Goblin Knight's direct command. Everyone within the Flourishing Walls was between Level 21 to 40. Such was the effect of the Goblin Knight's Leadership and Governing Skill. As one went deeper into Gobhood, the levels rose. It gave him a bit of a sadistic smile to think that the Goblin Knight would think him a big enough threat to send a hundred Level 30s to deal with him.

That smile faded when he noticed the foot soldiers were now charging at the wall carrying ladders on their back. Similar to his tactics, they had hoisted their shields over their head to protect themselves from incoming arrows. They were bypassing the moat.

"Get ready to pull back!" he roared. "Torches at the ready!"

A faint sizzling filled the air and the hairs on his arm stood on end, each strand tingling as if little sparks danced between each of them. His red eyes were immediately drawn to the back of the line of green-clad soldiers. The archers had put down their bows and were now taking out scrolls.

"Summoning scrolls..." he gasped. "Fuck me..."

They wouldn't be under Orphan the Summoner without some form of summoning magic on them. Magic circles akin to the one that Payton had summoned when transforming Ghorrend appeared in front of them. A rune circle filled with an arcane symbols appeared in a bright green light, rotating slowly clockwise. At the same time, the emblem of Gobhood - the three-eyed, three-faced goblin - appeared at its center. Strangely, that did not rotate like Payton's sigil.

Ghorrend had no time to marvel at the display before him. Bright, green lights manifested from the runes, spilling in front of the scrolls and quickly solidifying into a horde of goblins. Each scroll created at least three goblins. If his math was right, fifty archers had a scroll each so that made for an entire army of one-hundred-fifty goblins. Each Goblin was only Level 5 but one-hundred and fifty Level 5 Goblins could easily overwhelm their position.

"Fuck me..." he repeated.

The green horde came charging down just as the soldiers began propping their ladders to cross the moat. None of the men actually made their way up the ladders and Ghorrend realized their intentions. The goblins were going to be sent as a vanguard to break up the defenders. Then, when the disposable, cheap units were either slaughtered or the defenders thrown into disarray, the actual high-value troops would come in to clean things up.

"Too bad that pig saw that coming," Ghorrend said with a savage grin. "Fall back!" he shouted.

The Bloodguard immediately made their way off the rough, thick and extremely flammable palisade. He grabbed a torch himself, charging down the stone steps while the men behind him continued to spill tar and oil behind him. The first goblin jumped onto the barricade only to find little to no resistance. An arrow quickly embedded itself right between its eyes. Had a more intelligent person jumped onto the wall, they would have noticed the large number of Bloodguard archers that were waiting on the other side of the wall, covering the retreat of the relatively few members of their cadre that were actually on the wall.

But no.

Goblins only knew one thing; to swarm. So they swarmed onto the palisade, their large, green feet sinking into the tar beneath them. They screamed a little from the heat of the black substance, dancing in place but were too stupid to notice when the Bloodguard threw torches at them. The flames immediately ignited the tar, spreading rapidly and engulfing the swarm. The stupid creatures naturally tried to retreat down the ladders only to cause the wood to catch fire as well. The ladders collapsed, sending the cannon fodder plummeting into the spike-filled moat. The entire palisade went up in flames.

"Durandal knows what he's talking about," grunted one of the Bloodguard.

"He does indeed," Ghorrend grunted. "Now we don't have to worry about their goddamn goblins." He lifted his axe and waved it. "You know what must be done! Retreat!"

The Bloodguard raced back towards the center of town. The palisade burned for a good two hours before the flames eventually died down enough for the soldiers to find a way to cross the moat without being burned alive. In that time, their engineers had created wooden bridges to aid in their invasion. They marched in formation, charging through the abandoned village.

They stopped in surprise when they found a second fortress waiting for them at the center of town.

Ghorrend gripped his axe tightly.

Now the battle truly begun.

******

The palisade had been burned to the ground just as Durandal had planned but the following devastation was something else. Traps had been laid out along the streets including but not limited to pitfall traps, automated crossbows or ballistae and explosives. But it wasn't the men of Gobhood that had fallen to it. There was a horde of goblins that littered the streets, their bodies torn, burned or ripped to shreds. Their blood tainted the air with a rusty tang and their foul-smelling, rotting flesh attracted swarms of flies. Axter breathed a sigh of relief that there were no red-armored defenders amongst the dead. That meant that Durandal's plan had worked thus far.

None of them had anticipated the summoning of goblins. They had thought that Gobhood would sent a patrol - twenty, maybe thirty men at most - not a whole platoon with summoning capabilities. It was just as Hagden had warned. The people that had been sent here were highly trained. In all the destruction, he didn't see any human bodies. That spoke volumes about their strength.

"We have to hurry," he insisted, rushing forward, spreading his webbed wings with his serpentine tail anxiously tasting the air. "There's no telling how much longer Ghorrend and the rest of the Bloodguard will be able to hold."

His master, Payton, was oddly silent. The wolf's deep, blue eyes unreadable and his features still. A sense of dread crept into his heart. He recalled when Payton had grown angry when those hunters had attacked them. The display of power then - the full resurrection of three people in an instant - was no simple feat. From what he recalled, resurrection often cost a significant amount of gold, a thousand per level. Gold was hard to come by especially in an economy that had the alternative currency of goblins. Even then, resurrection required significant materials and magic power. Minor resurrection that left a target with a silver of health was a Level 40 spell. Basic resurrection that brought the target with a fraction of their health - about a quarter - was Level 50. Full resurrection was Level 60 while mass resurrection was a Grandmaster Level Spell - Level 90 minimum.

What great and terrible power would the Dark Lord unleash if he saw Ghorrend hurt or dead?

Silently, Payton waded through the burned and bloodied bodies of the goblins. Axter was half-tempted to create a platform of ice for his Master to stand on so that his feet would not be sullied by the corpses but not only would that prove dangerous but maintaining it would be a drain on his minuscule mana-pool.

Payton didn't mind, however, as he strode carefully through the bodies and made their way to the center of town. The sound of fighting met their ears, growing louder and louder as they drew closer to the battle.

The central fortress was under siege. Fires had been started across the wood and stone walls. Fear struck Axter as he counted at least a hundred men lined up to surround the fort. Archers were in the back while the soldiers were using their various skills to try and break down the walls. There were no siege engines. The narrow streets and the lack of resources ensured that any engineers would not have any means to create anything to help besiege the wall. Again, something that Durandal had anticipated. It was still a losing battle, however.

"Those men..." Axter whispered.

"They're all Level 30 at minimum," Payton growled, his hackles rising. "The Greensmith wasn't lying. They sent powerful soldiers to attack us."

Level 30... That was far beyond his single-digit level. Though he was sure he could cause enough of a distraction by flinging a few spells in all directions, he wouldn't be able to do little more than annoy these soldiers.

A high-pitched screech erupted form his left and his serpentine tail immediately lashed out. Venom-filled fangs sank into the neck of a poorly-armed goblin, the poison immediately pumping into the veins beneath the green skin and the force of the strike sending the creature crumpling to the ground. Axter immediately reached into the well of power deep within him, the magic that had been awakened when he had become a mage. He flung both his paws through the air. Twin icy spears launched through the air and slammed into the skulls of the other two goblins that came screaming out from underneath the bodies of their comrades. The cowardly creatures were only pretending to be dead.

"Master!" he cried.

Payton's attention was brought to the line of archers that had taken notice of them. The scream of other goblins rising out from the corpses became a screeching chorus; a high-pitched, chittering alarm.

"Grigori!" shouted the Gobhood archers. "Kill them now and bring their heads to the Speaker!"

Payton flexed his right paw. "Axter. Please take care of the goblins. I'll keep the archers off your back."

As much as he hated the idea of letting his master sully his paws with blood, this was a battle he could not hope to win alone. One day, he would wipe the floor clean of these insects so that Payton would not have to get a single drop of blood on his fur.

There was a flash of light from Payton's paws. The shortsword that Tartarius had made for the Dark Lord appeared. It was mostly unassuming save for some cosmetics. The handle was wrapped tightly in black leather and a silvery wolf's head was emblazoned on the pommel of the sword. The guard was shaped like a snarling wolf's head with emeralds for eyes and the emblem of Gobhood planted between its jaws, fangs sinking into the weapon. Tartarius called it Goblinfall.

"Upon your command, Master."

Axter spread his wings and leapt into the air, giving him a good view of his surroundings and the fight beyond the battlements. He could see Ghorrend's green flesh splattered with blood as he valiantly tried to fight back the few soldiers that had made it over the walls. Gobhood soldiers were surprisingly coordinated as the used their own shields as steps for others to jump past the palisades and attack the men beyond. The Bloodguard were falling back. The bunker where the civilians had been sequestered was still not breached. Upon seeing him, he could see Ghorrend's features brighten and the Bloodguard's fighting spirit was renewed.

He turned his attention back to the goblins who had abandoned their attack of him given that he was airborne and started to advance upon Payton. With a snarl, he flung icy projectiles down upon them, raining frozen death with every sweep of his paws. With each strike, little numbers sprang up from the corner of his vision. His level with Ice Spike was increasing. The goblins were level 4 - 5 which was still a few levels above him but given how he was named, he could deal with these mobs easily enough. Each strike also increased his skill level and added to his general class level.

"Ready!" came a shout behind him.

He glanced over his shoulder as the archers nocked their arrows. His mind was already racing for a means to defend himself when Payton suddenly appeared behind one of the archers. Goblinfall sliced through the man's neck with frightening ease.

"I think I'll bring your heads to your Speaker," growled the Dark Lord.

The stunned man's head rolled off his shoulders, a fountain of blood exploding from wound and his body immediately falling slack. The surrounding soldiers flinched. A deadly mistake on their part. Payton's form suddenly vanished in a blur like someone had smudged his whole body until it was wiped from existence. Axter never even saw his Dark Lord appear again on the other end of the line of archers to slay a second man with a swift strike from Goblinfall. Then Payton vanished in the similar manner as before only to reappear against the farthest archer from him and sending Goblinfall through the man's chest.

The archers were quickly thrown into disarray as the Dark Lord disappeared and reappeared every second, delivering fatal blows that cut through their Level 30 armor. Their formation was quickly broken as they scrambled for their short ranged weapons. One man managed to turn towards Payton before lifting his blow in a desperate attempt to block the Dark Lord's blow. Goblinfall passed right through the weapon and piercing the man's skull, driving through the soldier's left eye and exploding out from the back of his helmet. Payton had vanished before another Gobhood soldier could run him through with his sword, the attack instead skewering the already dead man.

Ghorrend and the Bloodguard all saw this from the walls and they let out a rejuvenated bellow.

"The Dark Lord is here! Rally! Rally! We push them back!"

The defenders struck back with renewed vigor. It didn't matter that they were many levels below the invaders. The mere presence of Payton cleaving his way through the archers was enough to inspire them to fight even harder.

Axter smiled and returned to the approaching goblins. Icy projectiles sprang from his paws, spearing the goblins. With a flap of his wings, he gained a little more altitude and he flung a spike behind him. The ice-blue crystal smacked into the back of a soldier's head. It did little more than annoy the man but it was enough for Ghorrend to leap forward, slam his shoulder into the man's chest and send him careening off the palisade into the ground below. He got a nod of appreciation from the reformed adventurer.

A soft 'ding' met his ears and he suddenly felt a rush of power. The energy within him renewed itself and there was a small notification in the bottom right hand corner of his vision. He was now level 4. A new spell had been added to his arsenal.

With a grin, he crossed his arms in front of him and immediately swept them both horizontally. Large spikes of ice erupted from the ground in front of him. Goblins were hurled high into the air, the wall of ice barring their advance. It drained a significant amount of his strength but it bought him some extra time. A soft light wrapped around his limbs. Warmth flooded through his veins and the strength drained from using Ice Wall returned. A glance over his shoulder confirmed his suspicions. His master had rejuvenated him.

With a smile, he landed on top of the wall of icy spikes and began hurling more and more projectiles at the oncoming goblins. Once he had cleaved a significant gap amongst them, he leapt down behind the wall, ensuring that Payton would not have to worry about him being struck from behind by the remaining archers.

Seeing this, Payton grinned to himself and immediately used SetLoc to teleport beside Ghorrend. The big orc clashed his hammer against the halberd of a Gobhood soldier. The far more numerous soldiers then pounced, their spears jabbing into the orc's sides. The wolf's heart leapt to his throat until he saw Ghorrend shove the man with the halberd back, grab the two spears jutting out of his sides and lifted the men holding them into the air. Ghorrend let out a blood curdling roar and flung both men over the palisade. Many of his Bloodguard were suffering wounds around him so their blood was healing him. The defender's second wind was quickly losing steam, however. A cry not too far away came from a Bloodguard as he was run through by a Gobhood soldier. Another came from a defender as they had their arm lobbed off and fell to the ground to bleed to death.

Even with all his power, Payton could not defeat all of these soldiers before the defenders were completely overwhelmed.

So he needed to even the battlefield.

A soft light encased Ghorrend and the two spears jutting from his chest popped off, the wounds immediately healing. Payton strode up next to him, standing calmly while the soldiers encircled them.

"Not that we needed your help," grunted the orc. "But I'm grateful nonetheless."

"I'm sure I could wipe all these insects off my land with a thought," Payton answered, a cocky smirk on his muzzle. "But when you're already this amazing, what experience and points you can get from such insignificant worms has diminishing returns. I thought it best to ensure that you and your Bloodguard could at least get a few levels from this experience."

"My Bloodguard, perhaps. But if you recall, I cannot grow further past Level 20."

Payton's blue eyes glinted with a hint of malicious glee like he was hoping Ghorrend would sat that. "Let's change that, shall we?" He turned partially towards the orc, lifting his free paw. "UnlockClass Advanced!"

Payton's sigil - the arcane circle with the emblem of the haloed sun at the center - appeared beneath Ghorrend. The orc immediately felt a rush of power like molten steel had been pumped right into his veins. His red eyes widened and he was lifted off the ground by some incredible force. A howling wind roared outward from the sigil, shocking the soldiers.

"He... He's unlocking the Advanced Class for the Orc!"

"That's... That's impossible! Only a Speaker or above can do that!"

"Kill him! Kill him before he can complete the ritual!"

Ghorrend was so overwhelmed by the sensation that tears began to roll down his cheeks. He had waited so long for this opportunity. So many attempts, so many years and so many rejections had battered his soul into a dark place. Ironic, then, that it took a Dark Lord to save him from it.

As the soldiers charged, Payton turned to lift his sword. Then a blue streak appeared in front of the Dark Lord, spreading his webbed wings with serpent tail hissing angrily. A wall of ice immediately sprang up around the three Grigori, protecting them from the Gobhood soldiers.

"You best hurry, Executioner!" bellowed Axter. "My Ice Wall is tough but it won't last forever! Choose your Advanced Class now!"

Ghorrend grinned down at the lion. "I've waited so long for this I don't need to think about which class I want. I was just basking in the irony of being uplifted to the Advanced Classes by the enemy of the Readers!" He shut his eyes, a genuine smile touching his lips. "It's fucking hilarious..."

A red aura surrounded him and all that hot strength coursing through his veins surged into his muscles, sizzling his skin. Thick hairs quickly covered his forearms and shins like a pelt. The hairs on his chest thickened all the more and veins popped up all over his body, including around his temples almost like a circlet made of blood vessels. With a tremendous roar, he flung his arms back. A blast of energy exploded from him, shattering the sigil beneath his feet and blasting Axter's wall to pieces, the shards crashing against the surrounding soldiers and even hurling a few off the wall.

He landed on his feet, huffing heavily.

"He's... He's now a Berserker!" bellowed one of the soldiers.

"Fuck! Get off the wall! Get off it now!"

"Archers! Target the Berserker! Now! Kill him before he goes into a -"

Ghorrend straightened, the veins all over his body pulsating against his green flesh. His eyes became bloodshot, almost completely red. "Raaaaaaaaaaage!"

Grabbing his axe, Ghorrend immediately hurled himself off the palisade and into the masses of fear-struck soldiers.

"After the Governor!" bellowed one of the Bloodguard.

"For Avergreen!"

"For the Dark Lord!"

The gates to the fort sprang open and the Bloodguard began charging out after Ghorrend. Payton swung his paws back at the fallen defenders. The soft, healing lights encased the wounded, immediately closing their sounds and filling them with energy once more. Even the man whose arm had been lopped off found his arm magically gravitating back towards him and reattaching itself as if nothing had ever happened. Renewed and at full strength, they grabbed their weapons and charged back into the fray.

Many of the Gobhood soldiers were witness to this miracle. Some of them immediately turned to target Payton. Axter immediately positioned himself in front of them, hurling icy spears into their faces. Even at Level 4, the spikes did little more than annoy them. That gave Payton the opening he needed, however, to appear right within their guard, driving Goblinfall into their faces or chests, ending their lives with ease. The others realized the futility of their endeavor.

"Retreat! Retreat!"

What remained of the assault group turned... only to realise that Axter's wall still barred the only way out. Desperate, they charged at the icy wall, smashing their weapons and skills against it. The wall began to break... but then Payton rejuvenated Axter. Another wall quickly took the place of the first, this time closer to the fortress. Soldiers turned in horror as a slowly advancing army of Bloodguard led by the raging Ghorrend stalked towards them.

Ghorrend, now wielding a massive axe in one hand and a longsword in the other stalked towards the cowering soldiers, his eyes red with rage. The men from Gobhood fell to their knees, pleading for their lives. Axter spread his wings but Payton placed a paw on his shoulder, offering him a short shake of his head.

The mighty, blood-covered orc stopped just within swinging distance of the first man.

"Please! Please! Spare my life! Spare us, please!"

Ghorrend huffed... then lifted the sword.

"Lower your weapons!" he bellowed. "You have been defeated by the Dark Lord! Submit and be shown mercy at the behest of His Grace, Payton Rendshaw!"

Payton chuckled softly. "A little presumptuous of him to think I'd show them mercy."

"Is he wrong, though?" Axter asked.

The wolf smirked softly and shook his head. "No. Of course not."

******

It had taken a little under two days to deal with the Goblin Warrior that had been plaguing the surrounding forests and get back to Gobhood but by the time he had returned, Hagden Hoblood the Greensmith was quite satisfied with his work. It was very rare these days to find any goblin that had taken advantage of their Horde Strength and become a Warrior or above. Even rarer when said goblin hadn't been slain by an adventurer looking to curry the favor of one the Speakers or even Faoster. That made obtaining rare materials from more powerful goblins extremely difficult.

Gaolsheer's fall and Goblinshredder's loss served as the perfect excuse to venture out of Gobhood and kill the Warrior himself. Meeting the so-called 'Dark Lord' was interesting but he had no doubt that the fool would either be crushed by the men that the Goblin Knight had sent over to Avergreen or try and come after him in a rage. No matter how powerful the wolf Grigori may have been, he would never be able to stand against the might of Gobhood let alone when Orphan was present.

Overall, Hagden was pleased.

He passed through the gates of Gobhood, the guards and citizenry giving him a wide berth in respect and bowing to him in turn. It wasn't long after he crossed the gates did a little delivery goblin come rushing towards him, respectfully bowing and holding up a gilded letter. Tempting as it was to grind down the little green pest into materials, the Goblin Knight would have his hide for such an act so he took the letter and dismissed the grotesque creature.

The wax seal came directly from the Emerald Mage.

With a sigh, he didn't even bother opening it and made his way through the districts until he reached the Verdant Garden, the location right next Faoster's own district and where his palace was located. He made his way through the bright green avenues filled with flowers, trees and beautiful roads until he found himself at the Emerald Mage's tower.

He was somewhat surprised to find all three of the other Speakers already there.

"So what is this about?" he asked, waving the letter through the air.

"You didn't even open it?" the Goblin Knight chastised.

"I didn't need to. I knew where you wanted to meet. I just didn't know we'd all be here." He set down his heavy pack. Goblin blood seeping through the fabric and soaking into the Emerald Mage's expensive carpets, causing the wizard's nose to wrinkle in disgust. "So? Can we get on with this? I have to get back to my workshop."

"Very well," the Mage sighed. He waved his hands through the air, drawing scintillating arcane runes that followed the tips of his fingers. A moment later, one of the scrying portals appeared before them, the silvery discs that allowed them to communicate vast distances. This one was far more advanced, however, as there was actually an image appearing on the other end.

Given the height, it was likely being seen through the eyes of a goblin.

Hagden realized what this was. It was a memory from one of the goblins summoned by Gobhood's troops. Likely, the Emerald Mage had extracted it when the goblin had died. The Mage was the one that created the scrolls that allowed even common soldiers to summon goblins of varying levels. It didn't surprise him that he could survey the use of said goblins through their eyes to avoid abuse.

The Greensmith tilted his head to the side as he lazily regarded the rough palisade in front of what appeared to be a town. The scene followed the goblin's attempt to run up the ladder held up by the soldiers only to find itself stuck in some tar and black goo. A fire quickly spread and the creature screamed and burned. The silver glass-like structure rippled, shifting to the perspective of another goblin that was watching the battlements burn. The vanguard of goblins had been killed in the fire. It took some time before the fire was quenched but by then, the engineers had created bridges and now the goblins were rushing across them towards the village.

Only for the goblin to suddenly die and the image to ripple once more. This time, he watched as another goblin observed many of its own kind getting slaughtered by traps hidden amongst half-burned homes. The goblin dropped beneath some of the corpses, pretending to be dead as was to be expected from a cowardly creature. From its hiding spot, it watched as the traps were exhausted by its own kind. Then, when it was still, the soldiers came marching in towards what appeared to be a second fort inside the village, far more secure than the first.

"The people in this village are certainly well prepared," the Head Chef of the Greenworks commented. "Where is this?"

"Avergreen," the Goblin Knight grunted.

Hagden's eyes narrowed, his lips turning downward into a frown. That was the same township that the Dark Lord had come from. His worry quickly faded, however, when he watched the soldiers start to tear into the palisades. Even from the goblin's perspective, he could see that they were winning.

"Do we need to watch the rest?" he said. "It's clear we'll be victors."

"Just watch," insisted the Emerald Mage.

The Greensmith complied, telling himself he'll give this another fifteen minutes before he turned away in boredom. That was when two figures stepped into view. His eyes widened and his frown deepened when the Dark Lord and his chimera Grigori walked into view.

His mind raced.

"How long ago did this occur?" he demanded.

"Two days ago."

Two days ago... exactly when the Dark Lord left him with those scorching words. The burns from that scathing review had healed over the past few days and successfully harvesting goblin materials had helped put a salve on them but now, they came back with a sizzling itch.

Goblins sprang from their hiding spots, leaping at the two. A fatal mistake as the blue lion flung his paws out and skewered them with icy spears. This was further made terrifying when the wolf summoned a sword in his paws and vanished from view, instantly appearing behind one of the archers and killing him. The two cleaved through the goblins and men with frightening ease.

"What kind of Skill is this!?" demanded the Goblin Knight.

"The chimera Grigori is using Ice Spike," the Emerald Mage replied smugly. That arrogance quickly faded, however. "As for the wolf. I do not know. His power seems to be the ability to summon a weapon. I suspect that Legendary or Unique weapon can somehow allow him to teleport to his targets and deal a fatal blow of sorts."

"It's more than that," Hagden growled, his beard bristling. The eyes of the other Speakers turned to him. "I met him on the road. Four days away from Avergreen. Just a day away from here. That was two days ago."

The Speakers regarded him with disbelief.

"That's... That's impossible," the Head Chef said. "The Emerald Mage just said -"

"I know what he said," Hagden snarled. "But believe me. This is no ordinary Grigori." He met the Goblin Knight's gaze. "Remember when I told you about Goblinshredder being replicated and destroyed? That was the wolf."

"So he can copy unique weapons," the Goblin Knight said. "His head would make -"

"You're missing the point," the Emerald Mage said gravely. "Perhaps he can copy weapons. Perhaps that weapon he wields is powerful enough to kill a dozens of Level 30 soldiers from Gobhood. But the greater threat is the fact that he was able to cross vast distances in a short time."

"It must be the chimera Grigori," the Head Chef concluded. "That must be his ability."

There were four Grigori with the boy when they had met. Hagden had guessed that the boar's ability was clearly his four arms but the other three were a mystery. It was a possibility that the blue chimera's unique Grigori ability was to cross vast distances in an instant. That would explain his presence in the imagery.

The scene was suddenly blocked by an enormous wall of ice. He guessed it was the chimera using a spell. The Emerald Mage waved his hand through the air, dismissing the disc.

"It's been a while since we've had Grigori banding together like this," said the wizard. "What else can you tell us about them, Hagden?"

The Greensmith's lips curled upwards slightly. "He claimed to be the 'Dark Lord'. He was accompanied by four other Grigori. One clearly benefited from a physical skill that gave him a second pair of arms. I don't know what the ability of the other three were. Though I suppose we now know what one of them is."

"The 'Dark Lord'?" scoffed the Goblin Knight. "Admittedly, the power to replicate unique and powerful weapons and use their skills is incredible but I would not give him the title of 'Dark Lord'."

"He can also read minds," Hagden added. "Although that could be the power of one of the other two. Perhaps they were mentally linked or something. Regardless. They are clearly dangerous."

"I'll send an army to wipe them off the map." The Goblin Knight slapped the table. "Orphan will be here soon and I would rather not have this tarnish our reputation."

"No," the Head Chef insisted. "We still know next to nothing about this Grigori. We're making guesses here. If he truly is the Dark Lord, sending our troops into his territory will give him the tactical advantage. It would be suicide."

"Besides, if Orphan got wind of us sending an army against him only for that army to be wiped off the map, that will be a greater humiliation," the Emerald Mage added. "I am against it. We should fortify our defenses here and prepare."

The Goblin Knight turned towards Hagden, pleadingly. "Come now, my friend. Surely you see the value in striking before this 'Dark Lord' becomes even more powerful. You've met him."

The Greensmith considered his options for a moment and then reached down, picking up his pack once more. He grinned savagely at the Goblin Knight. "I'm sorry, my 'friend'. I have indeed met the Dark Lord and while I am not afraid of him, I am afraid of what Orphan would think were we to fail to crush him because we attacked too hastily. We need more information. I am against it."

He then turned, letting the three argue their cases while his mind roiled like a storm.

The grin on his face grew broader however.

"This could work out very well for me..."

******

The captain of the 104th Gobhood Regulars was thrown to the floor. Stripped of all his armor and left in little more than a loincloth, the man bowed his head not in deference but in fear of the two men sitting on the table in front of him. Payton sat in the taller, cushioned seat beside Ghorrend. To his left naturally stood Axter. Durandal, who had made the trip in three days thanks to Tartarius creating a wagon to help with the travel, stood ominously behind the soldier. Apparently, Tartarius and Durandal took turns pulling while Ravenus drove. It added a level or two to all of them and improved a few skills.

Payton scanned the man, appraising his appearance and stats. Though unnamed, he was nonetheless a Level 30 human soldier and benefited from a few passive abilities granted to him due to his allegiance with Gobhood. He was able to use the Summon Goblin scrolls, naturally could command goblins beneath his level and even dealt extra damage against goblins or goblin-like enemies.

I wonder how I can get bonuses like that. Though considering how I can't level up, I probably can't anyway.

The man's stats were quite high compared to the rest of his group but the battle had improved a few of his party members. Ghorrend had been bumped up to Level 21 and the average level of the Bloodguard was now 18. Still lower than the Gobhood Regulars and far below the Level 100 troops Gobhood at its disposal.

Axter cleared his throat to signal the start of the hearing. "You are now before the Governor of Avergreen, Ghorrend, and His Great Darkness, the Dark Lord Payton Rendshaw."

I really wish they'd stop making up titles for me like that... It's getting embarrassing...

"You are accused of attacking our Dark Lord's territory, damaging Avergreen as a whole and leading your troops to inflicting pain and injury upon Avergreen's citizenry. How do you plea?"

The captain kept his gaze lowered. "Guilty. I did all of those things. I regret nothing too. I was under orders from the Goblin Knight himself."

Ghorrend snarled, teeth flashing between his tusks and his massive, hairy hands closing together in a tight fist. "You unrepentant fuck! Why should we not just execute you here and now?"

Still gunning for executions, eh Ghorrend?

"I do not regret following my orders," the captain answered. "Let it be shown that I do not back down from my loyalties nor do my allegiances change so easily. But I will confess that your words, Your Great Darkness, have given me much thought."

Like the patrol that had accompanied Gaolsheer and had now become the Bloodguard, Payton had given the same offer to the Gobhood Regulars. Given it was fresh off their defeat, he didn't expect immediate defections but he had treated the prisoners fairly. They all had beds, all slept under a comfortable roof - under watch, of course - and were well-fed and taken care of. Ghorrend had commented that most prisoners would be left to rot, their wounds festering and swimming in their own waste. This was on top of the fact that Payton had resurrected the fallen soldiers. The captain amongst them.

"My men and I followed our orders," the captain repeated. "We followed them unquestioningly because those were the orders given to us by our Speaker. However, those orders no longer apply. We simply cannot defeat you or your forces. You offered us a place amongst your Bloodguard. If you will still have us, we submit to you and will pledge our loyalty to you."

Ghorrend grinned savagely. "Now that's more like it!"

No... I don't like it.

"I'm afraid that won't do," Payton said slowly, shocking both Ghorrend and the captain. "The other members of the Bloodguard joined because they wanted to. They didn't join because they were coerced or because they failed their previous mission so they had no option but to join us. I want to you realize you have a choice in the manner."

He slowly rose from his seat, trying not to loom over the captain. "My goal is to free Lexcia of this grip the Readers have on you all." There were a few confused looks thrown his way especially from the gallery of prisoners who were confined to the left and right of the chamber. "Most of you don't realize that the Readers are severely limiting your capacity to learn or do things for yourselves. You're constantly restricted to certain roles in life without any possibility of branching out or pursuing your own interests. You're left to the whims of potentially ageless people who can decide to just not give you the capacity to grow stronger because of some arbitrary ruling."

Ghorrend grunted in agreement.

"You're shoehorned into becoming soldiers, laborers, socialites or whatever else based on where you live. What if someone wanted to learn how to knit but they were restricted to the district where everyone must be a soldier? What if someone wanted to learn how to dance but they were forced to labor for the rest of the city? What if you want to shrug off the shackles of war in favor of being rich and famous? None of you have the ability because the Readers brainwash you into thinking that you must do all of this in order to preserve the world as it is right now. They keep all this great knowledge from you so that you can't choose your own paths. You're all little more than cogs to a machine that they control."

Payton lifted a fist. "I want to change that. I want to make sure everyone has the capacity to become whoever they want and even if they want to stay as they are, it's their choice not because they're forced to." He pointed directly at the captain. "So I ask you, do you want to become part of the Bloodguard? Should you refuse, you will be taken care of. Even if we fail in our conquest or Avergreen is taken by the enemy, you will be comfortable and I will swear upon my life that I will try my best to vouch for your loyalty so that you may return to Readers without retribution!"

The captain stared at him for a long moment... the let out a short laugh, bowing his head. "That is more than we ever gave to our prisoners. Especially to Grigori."

It's common decency. It's kind of what the Geneva Convention was about. Then again, that was never signed here...

"It's what I'm offering now," Payton responded. "If you wish to stay loyal to Gobhood and the Readers in general, you are welcome to. We will offer you as much comfort as we can. You'll be treated as h..." - He had to mentally remind himself that there were other creatures in this world apart from humans - "... as people. Not animals. Our own troops and people will naturally take priority but you will be given as much as we can." His features hardened and he gave the captain a ferocious stare. "But you should know that I will not stop. I will defeat Faoster Goblincaller. I will end Orphan's reign. More, I will charge all the way up to Inferiorix and oust him. I will free all knowledge in Lexcia for everyone to consume."

The captain's brow furrowed at him. "Free all knowledge...? You mean you intend to...?"

"Yes. By the time I'm done. Everyone and anyone can be a Reader if they wanted."

"That's absurd!" cried one of the Gobhood soldiers from the gallery. "The Readers know how to use their power! If everyone had that kind of power, we'd be torn to shreds!"

"We'd be in constant war as Readers fight Readers for their knowledge!"

"Readers provide for us! They share their knowledge for us anyway! Why would we want that knowledge in the hands of others we don't trust!?"

Those were all good points. The power of a Reader was incredible indeed. It was just as Tartarius and Durandal had warned him when he was tempted to give everyone a name. That kind of power could lead people into a road of darkness and could potentially ruin the world. Why send Lexcia on that path when, right now, there was a modicum of peace?

There's only one argument I can give and it makes me dirty for saying it...

"Are you absolutely sure that the Readers and your superiors share everything with you?" he countered calmly. "Are you sure they aren't just feeding you exactly what they need you to know so that you will be complacent and not ask for more?" He swept his arm in a slow arc around him. "For millennia, not as single Dark Lord has appeared until me. At the same time, the times between each Black Halo has increased. Yet you still all kill Grigori, sacrificing them willingly to your Readers, in the belief that it will stop the appearance of a Dark Lord. Have your Readers ever told you why any of that occurred or why you have to do any of this? Have you ever thought to even question them?"

A few cautious glances were exchanged but the fanaticism to the Readers would not change so easily.

"Fuck you! Dark Lord or no, I am loyal to Orphan!"

"I serve the Summoner! I will not be tempted by your sweetened words!"

Payton couldn't say he wasn't disappointed. These soldiers were devoted to their leaders and he couldn't fault them for that. But he wasn't going to execute them because it was convenient to kill off enemy soldiers than to maintain them. Not when he could provide people with endless supplies.

Just as he was about to sit down, the captain suddenly got to his feet.

"You're all fucking idiots!" he barked at the soldiers. "There's a difference between loyalty and being a blind follower! We marched to Avergreen with orders to force it to submit! These were our people in here and while they resisted, we didn't hesitate to rain fire down upon them! If you don't question that sort of thing especially after you were resurrected by this man here" - he pointed directly at Payton - "then you aren't loyal. You're just bull-headed!"

The captain turned towards Payton, slamming a fist against his chest. "Milord! I swear my allegiance to you!"

"Captain!"

"You traitor!"

"The Goblin Knight will hear of this!"

"You fuckwits!" barked the captain without turning away from Payton. "Have you no honor!? The Dark Lord may have killed you with one hand but he also resurrected you with the other. At the very least, you owe him your lives! This life! If you cannot show gratitude for that simple fact, then show gratitude for the fact that he is willing to treat you better than we would have treated him were he captured by us!"

The captain lifted his gaze. "Milord, I pledge my allegiance to you but on the condition that you let me earn your favor! I am willing to work as a mere laborer or even your cup bearer if it will allow me to earn my place in the new world you are creating!"

Ghorrend grinned savagely. "A bold claim, captain. But does that mean you're renouncing your allegiance to Faoster and Orphan? What about the Readers in general and Inferiorix?"

The man grinned back. "I have seen all there is to see in my life under Inferiorix. My future and my end was all but assured. The Dark Lord offers an uncertain but exciting future. I wish to see it."

The orc turned towards Payton, that grin remaining on his features. "Well? What say you, Your Mighty Evilness?"

Payton was surprised by the claim. It warmed his heart that he had inspired such courage and even a spark of loyalty in people he barely knew.

Maybe I'm not doing too badly after all...

"I'll have to put you under the same geas if you are to join the Bloodguard," Payton said. "It will bind you to Ghorrend and my... My Black Halo Alliance. I intend to treat everyone equally, after all. If you would rather retire from your life as a soldier, you are welcome to but you will effectively start with nothing and will need to earn your keep here in Avergreen."

The captain nodded gravely. "I am prepared to work."

Another man amongst the captured soldiers stood from his seat. "As am I! I swear fealty to you, Dark Lord Rendshaw!"

Then another voice joined the cry. "As do I! For the Dark Lord!"

More voices joined the chorus of cries. Most of the soldiers remained seated but there was at least twenty or so of them that stood.

This is where it begin, Payton thought to himself. This is where change starts.

_ _

******

The battle both on the walls and in the court room exhausted Payton more than he thought. After so many days of stressing about the aftermath of the battle, he felt he needed a nice, long bath. Lexcia had no concept of private bathrooms. Readers didn't bathe at all but used their magic to clean themselves. Listeners and Speakers had large public baths where they cleaned themselves in the presence of others, often with concubines or other partners. Apparently, many deals and treaties were signed in the bath.

It was the same in Avergreen.

Payton was a little shy to bathe anywhere in public and he had only bathed once before since entering Lexcia and that was on the day before he left Avergreen for the first time. He had asked Durandal to keep watch and prevent anyone from coming in during the five minutes he had spent in the large, heated pool.

This time, most of the public was busy repairing the damage Gobhood had caused so he had a modicum of privacy as he sank into the heated, steaming waters and let himself soak a little. The large baths were naturally located in a bathhouse with expensive marble walls and goblin-shaped designs everywhere. According to locals, goblins would serve them while in the tub, washing them, bringing in soaps and fragrances to make sure the pools smelled and felt luxurious. With the loss of the goblins, Payton had to take some oils, soaps and flowers to the large stone tubs himself and pour them in a bit at a time.

The bathhouse had a large communal pool just past the atrium and it was here where most people took their baths. Smaller, more private stalls sat on the outer edges of the public pool but the only form of privacy they really had were these thin, wooden grates that really didn't hide anything. The bathhouse was unattended at this time, the tubs themselves devoid of water. Still, he made his way to the farthest tub from the entrance. Gold-plated faucets shaped like goblin heads hovered over the large, white, stone pools.

"I have got to get rid of this shit," he mumbled, twisting the ears of the goblin heads, the hot and cold levers. "Thank god this world has a concept of indoor plumbing."

Which begs the question... if they have all this kind of technology and magic, why haven't they advanced more? I'd expect flying cars and quantum mechanics to be everywhere.

He could only assume that the Readers really were restricting knowledge because all knowledge was being limited to their minds, they couldn't see past their own big heads to see the bigger picture. It almost sounded like there wasn't any competition between the Readers to pursue any greater heights so there was nothing motivating anyone to become better.

The Readers were trapped in their own complacency as much as the general public.

I don't know if I should pity them or envy them.

When the water was hot enough, he poured some of the oils into the pool. He quite liked the orange scented ones and it smelled great on his fur afterward. He dipped a toe tentatively into the pool and sighed softly as the wave of warmth rippled up his leg and pulled him further beneath the clear waters. Payton was reminded once again of his unique anatomy when his fur-covered balls touched the waters first and his dick didn't follow immediately. His cock, now wrapped in a fleshy sheath and bound to his lower stomach by a thin flap of furry flesh was very much like a wolf's cock. Relieving himself and going to the bathroom had been a challenge at first and he honestly feared it but now that he had gotten used to it, it was almost like second nature.

Almost like using the bathroom in a new place for the first time.

But since this was only the second time he had taken a bath, he was still getting used to the feelings of his furry cock and balls being fully submerged in the water. That trepidation faded quickly, however, as he sank further beneath the waters. He draped his arms over the edges of the tub and leaned back in relief. All the tension in his body just melted into the waters as the soft, soothing scent of oranges filled his nostrils.

His mind went blank, drifting back into that blissful nothingness that he was familiar with when he was human. The silence coupled with the warm waters just reminded him of simpler times. It was perfect to just let his mind relax and regenerate. In all his life, he had never once had to think more than the past two weeks. He might just need another two decades to make such decisions, not all of them being good.

That sparked a spiral of regret. Though most of the damage had been reversed thanks to his abilities, death was still death. People still suffered and now Gobhood knew about him. With Orphan arriving soon, things were going to get much more complicated. They had lost the element of surprise. One of two things was bound to happen.

Either Gobhood was going to send an army to quash them before Orphan arrived to avoid any sort of embarrassment or they were going to destroy Avergreen in a show of force to demonstrate their prowess to their Reader.

Payton groaned softly and leaned his head back, resting it against the marble floor while setting a paw over his brow. It seemed that even when he tried to relax, he was not going to be able to drift off into that empty-headed state that he had lived in for so long, that limbo of mental emptiness where he just lived every day as it came with no direction or ambition.

Then again, is that really something I want to go back to?

His vision was suddenly consumed by something big and green.

He frowned when he found himself looking up at a big, green, flaccid uncut dick.

"What the hell!?" he cried, leaping away from the phallus in shock.

Ghorrend raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "What? It's a public bath. I thought it'd be a waste to start up another bath if one was already in use. It's big enough for both of us. Big enough to get Durandal and Tartarius in here as well."

"Don't you fucking dare call them in here!" Payton cried. “And what happened to Durandal!? He was meant to guard the door!”

The orc shrugged. "He needed a break so I said I’d keep watch on you while he had dinner. If you want your privacy, I'll take the next bath over. I can watch you from there."

Fuck me...

He groaned and paddled over to the other side of the pool. "I'm just not used to the concept of a public bath. Back where I come from, everyone showered or bathed individually."

"Won't you waste a lot of water that way?"

Oh you have no idea...

"I didn't say it was a perfect system," he muttered. "Both worlds have their flaws. Though I can't say that I prefer one over the other just yet."

Ghorrend grunted and sank into the tub without much fanfare or hesitation even though the water was steaming hot. The water level naturally rose. Waves of the orange-scented liquid splashed past the rims of the tub and sank into the grates that lined it.

"You must have been very powerful in your old world if you're conflicted."

Payton tilted his head slightly. "Why do you say that?"

The orc shrugged absently, cupping some of the water and using it to wash his armpits. "What sane person would give up the kind of power you have to return to a world where they have much less?"

That's actually a question I've never answered.

Do I want to go back?

Do protagonists in isekai's ever end up going back to their own worlds?

"Do Grigori even get to go back to their own worlds?"

Ghorrend shrugged his massive, broad shoulders, water dripping between the curves and crevasses of his deltoids. "Don't think they've ever lived long enough to find out."

Fair point...

"If you wanted to know, I was pretty much just an average guy back where I came from. Little more than one of the villagers of this town. Only difference is that I had to work for a living. I didn't have everything provided for me. I had to pay taxes. I had to work five days out of the week to earn money which I'd spend to buy essentials and sometimes luxury items."

"So..." the red-haired orc began, brow furrowed in confusion. "You worked for your leaders so that you could get money that you would spend on the very same products that they sold?"

"Well, not everyone was connected. There were different organizations that produced different things and all the wealth wasn't shared by them."

There are conspiracies that would say otherwise but that's beside the point...

"That sounds like a complicated, convoluted and chaotic system. Who rules?"

"Well... Each country rules differently. Some have Presidents. Others Prime Ministers. Others kings, I guess. It's all very different."

"Do the kings talk with one another? Share resources?"

"Uhm... Well. No. There are treaties and trades. People exchange resources and knowledge." He grimaced slightly. "Which doesn't necessarily mean that everything is distributed equally. There are grievances, unfair trade and sometimes poverty."

Ghorrend gave him a pointed look. "It almost sounds like you're better off here."

It kind of does...

"Maybe," he shrugged absently and sank deeper into the waters until he was neck deep. "I haven't decided yet." His eyes lifted to meet the orc's. "Why? Do you want me to stay?"

That chilling grin returned though it wasn't tainted by the manic edge it used to hold. There was... warmth or even camaraderie behind it. "If you were to leave before I get to defeat you, then I'd just hit another wall that I'd never cross. I would go insane and maybe go back to chopping people's heads off for fun."

Payton smirked. "It almost sounds like you're threatening to go on a rampage if I don't stay."

The orc arched his back and rested his broad arms against the sides of the tub. "Fine. I'll come right out and say it. I think you should stay. I honestly don't care if you rule the world or destroy it. I just don't want you to leave."

"So you can defeat me at a later date, huh?"

The orc's green cheeks turned slightly pink. "That and I owe you. You saved me."

"I'm sure you would've found some way to defeat the Gobhood soldiers. Durandal did have that contingency plan -"

"Not just that," interrupted by big, muscled orc. "You saved me from myself. You gave me a reason to fight again."

Payton straightened in the pool, rising up again until the water was about nipple high. "What do you mean?"

Ghorrend ran his thick fingers through his dense hair. "The man you saw. The bloodthirsty executioner... It wasn't who I am. I was... stuck. I was bashing my head against this impregnable wall set up by the Speakers. No matter what I did, it was never enough to get me that promotion to the Advanced Classes." He shut his eyes, squeezing them tightly while lifting a fist into the air. "I would dream about reaching Level 21, of finally becoming a Berserker and making strides in progress. But over and over, I'd be stuck. I'd never be allowed to make that leap."

The red-haired orc lowered his hand, letting it sink beneath the waters. "So I think I deluded myself. Kept telling myself that if I served the Speakers faithfully, I'd be promoted. I kept killing at their discretion. I was the one that took the heads off Grigori and that made me part of their offerings to the Readers. I was doing something that mattered. Even if it was the same thing over and over again, I mattered."

A sarcastic smile touch his tusked features and he shook his head at himself. "I was driving myself into madness. I became so deluded with this fantasy that I lost my grip on reality. I barely bathed. I soaked myself in blood. I didn't even groom myself." He gestured at the long mane of hair he had. "All of this was due to years of thirsting for blood in service of the Speakers."

Ghorrend sighed heavily, his immense chest's movements causing small waves in the water. "It was only when you defeated me, when death was almost certain that... That I came to a realization."

"What's that?" Payton pressed.

The orc regarded him with a faint frown. "That I was relieved it was over. Imagine that." He pressed a hand against his chest. "I was almost looking forward to you killing me."

Whoa... Dark.

"Honestly, one of the reasons why I didn't mind being subservient to you is because your promise of promoting me to the Advanced Classes sounded just like another hollow promise from the Speakers. I would lose nothing and go right back to where I was. But then you made good on your promise even if I failed you."

"You didn't -"

"Yes I did. Avergreen would have been destroyed had you not intervened. Our deal was that you'd go to Gobhood, unseat Faoster and his fucking Speakers and when you came back, you'd promote me. Did you defeat Faoster?"

Payton didn't respond, knowing full well that Ghorrend was right.

"You still promoted me," the orc said, a soft smile on his features. "I soaked in so much blood that it blocked out everything else, bathing me in darkness. But then you came along. You -"

"Please don't make some metaphor about me bringing you some 'light'," Payton grimaced, waving a paw dismissively. "I get it. I helped you. I gave you a purpose in life again. You don't have to gush. I was glad to do it." He smirked at Ghorrend. "After all, if Gobhood is going to send Level 30 soldiers at my town, then I've got to make sure the men I leave in charge are at least that level, right?"

Ghorrend returned the smirk. "You know he's got men up to Level 100, right?"

"His personal guard. Yes, I've been told."

Faoster's army was vast and powerful. The majority of his army was under the Goblin Knight's command and generally capped off at Level 40. More elite troops that were rarely deployed went up to Level 60. Specialists that were sent on select missions or tasked with guarding the inner city were left at Level 80. The personal guards of the Speakers and the Listener himself were Level 100.

If Gobhood sent an army against them, it was likely that they would face - at most - Level 80. But given how Orphan was soon going to make an appearance, that may not come until much later. Unless, that is, Faoster decided to try and wipe them off the map as quickly as possible.

Damnit... There I go again. Thinking about the goddamn future...

"Rest assured that I'll keep promoting you," Payton said. "I'm not going to stop you from advancing like the Speakers did. I need you to be as strong as possible, after all."

That menacing grin returned onto Ghorrend's face. "You're not scared that I might challenge you one day and defeat you."

"As I told you when I transformed you into a Grigori, you're most welcome to try but I like my chances."

Even a Level 100 can't pierce my God Mode.

"If you're so confident about your abilities, why don't you just go to Faoster and kill him immediately?"

"Not that I haven't considered it," Payton responded miserably. "But that's honestly a childish fantasy. I'm not some kid on some power trip. Going up to the Listeners, Speakers and Readers and killing them without anything to replace them will leave the world in a worse state than if I hadn't interfered. It'll just give the Readers justification on the fear that they pander about the Dark Lord.

"Besides, I can't be everywhere at once. I fight one Reader and the other one will just swoop in and claim the same territory I just conquered. I've got to make sure it's secure."

Ghorrend shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe there is someone like you in this world."

Payton felt his cheeks starting to rush with blood. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I meant no offense," laughed the orc, holding up a hand in apology. "It's just that I know many people who reach the heights of power that abuse it. I mean, do you know the Greensmith?"

Of course I do. We met him.

"Yes. What about him?"

"Did you know his cruel specialty is to transform goblins into weapons and armor?"

Payton straightened, his jaw opening slightly in surprise. He hadn't read too far into Hagden's biography before their conversation was derailed but he remembered Hagden using the materials of his own sister and party members for weapons. "No..."

Ghorrend explained that weapons like Goblinshredder was infused by the blood and organs from countless goblins. Hagden Hoblood had actually enlisted Ghorrend's help to slaughter as many goblins as possible and make sure that their organs were preserved so the Greensmith could use it to make more and more of his creations. The problem was, of course, that the Goblin Knight hated it when all the goblins he spent so much time training were slaughtered and the Emerald Mage kept a close count on all the goblins in the city.

"So the Greensmith would 'stage' the sudden loss of control of goblins, he'd delay making the request to get them dealt with so they could breed and grow more powerful and then he'd send someone like me to clean it up."

That's how the bastard knew about those goblins in the woods! He set it up!

"That's... barbaric."

"It's how the Speakers abuse their power," sighed the orc. "I went along with it because I hoped the Greensmith would eventually promote me. But seeing you now, comparing you to them..." He shook his head in disbelief. "I cannot believe how cruel they are."

Payton swam a little closer to Ghorrend. "What else can you tell me about the other Speakers? If we know them a little more, maybe we can find ways to defeat them."

The orc glanced upwards and tapped one of his tusks with a finger. "Let's see... The Goblin Knight is the Master-at-Arms and generally rules the military arm of Gobhood. He treats everyone kindly, even Grigori. Goblins are the exception. He puts them through 'training' which is really just torture. I know I had to execute those who failed his 'boot camp'. The miserable bastards had nails ripped off, teeth removed and even ears completely shredded. Killing them was an act of mercy."

Payton shuddered at the thought. It sounded like the Goblin Knight was just as twisted as the Greensmith. He shuffled a little closer, unknowingly putting him within reach of Ghorrend. "What about the others?"

"The Head Chef of the Greenworks is probably the nicest of them all," continued Ghorrend. "He serves his famous Gobhood Stew for free to everyone. He treats his goblins nicely as well. Even has them working right beside him in the kitchens. Keeps them clean, well-fed and gives them decent housing from what I've heard."

Something tells me that's not all there is...

Ghorrend instinctively curled his fingers around Payton's shoulders, pulling him a little closer.

"The Emerald Mage manages the count of goblins and is the one that creates the summoning scrolls that allow people to manifest goblins. Faoster can do it as well, of course, but he hasn't really been seen in public in recent times. He mostly keeps to himself in his castle. There are rumors that he's sick and the Emerald Mage is trying to cure him but I've seen him enough times to know that's just bullshit. Faoster is fine but he's a warrior, not a true governor. He lets the Speakers rule Gobhood for him while he makes the executive decisions."

"What 'executive decisions' has Faoster made recently?" Payton asked, shuffling even closer to Ghorrend until their legs were brushing up against one another beneath the water. The strong smell of the orc - a thick, woody smell - couldn't be masked by the orange scent. It was actually quite musky but at the same time quite appealing. Coupled with the warmth radiating from Ghorrend and the wolf found himself quite comfortable.

"Mostly dealing with other Listeners and the Readers. Recently, he had to deal with a Goblin Lord that appeared in the eastern forests. Probably something that the Greensmith orchestrated. I know he got a large chunk of materials from that."

As Payton drew closer, Ghorrend's hand naturally curled around his shoulder, resting gently against his deltoids and with his fingers hovering over the wolf's chest. As the orc spoke, those fingers instinctively twitched and moved, brushing into Payton's fur. The sensation was... strange but not unwelcome. When he was human, he was never a hairy guy so having the fur on his chest stimulated sent tingles all up and down his body. This was further amplified when the red hairs on Ghorrend's knuckles brushed up against his fur.

"What exactly is their overarching goal? Their ambitions?"

The orc gave him a helpless shrug. "Your guess is as good as mine. As far as I know, they've been doing exactly the same thing for the past few centuries."

"How old is Faoster? Or Gobhood for that matter?"

Ghorrend leaned his head away, brow furrowed in thought. "At least 500 years old. If you're going to ask about Orphan, then he's at least 800. Inferiorix is even older than that. History will tell you that he founded his first kingdom three thousand years ago."

That long ago!? Wait... what if a year isn't that long here.

"Settle my curiosity," Payton admitted. "How many hours are there in a day?"

Ghorrend gave him a quizzical look. "Twenty-four."

"How many days in a month?"

"Thirty-five."

Okay... That's definitely different.

"It's thirty-five every month? Who decided that?"

Ghorrend growled at him. "I don't know. It's been like that forever. Why all the questioning?"

Payton glared at the orc. "Because in my world, we had 30 to 31 days per month with one month being weird. Could be 28 or 29 depending on the year. I want to get a scale of time of how exactly these guys have been ruling."

The orc sighed. "Fine. I keep forgetting you're from another world. 35 days every month. There are 15 months in a year. A decade is ten years, a century one-hundred and a millennium is a thousand."

Let's see... 35 years a month and 15 months in a year. That means there are 525 days a year.

They definitely have longer years here which makes the rule of the Readers even more impressive.

How the hell am I supposed to deal against that kind of experience!?

"You look like you're worried," Ghorrend observed.

"Just coming to grips with the fact that I was barely thirty years old in my world when I came here and I'll now have to deal against people who are millennia old." He shook his head, trying to break free of the depressing thoughts. "How many Readers are there anyway? How many Listeners?"

Ghorrend shrugged. "Honestly don't know. What happens in our Province stays in our Province. Even the Level 100 named rarely venture out of their own Province. Why leave somewhere you know is safe for some place unknown? Only select merchants and adventurers get to leave."

Payton really found that had to believe and he pulled away a little from Ghorrend, inadvertently leaning into the big orc's grip. "No one is curious? No one wants to find out what's beyond this Province?"

"Why bother when the Readers and Listeners tell us everything there is to know? Besides, there are physical walls between each province that are guarded by men on both sides. It's nearly impossible to cross them without getting a pass from the Listener of the region."

Damn... So we're pretty much trapped here unless we deal with Faoster.

Ghorrend grunted and rubbed the back his head. "You know, I am getting wrinkly and we have soaked here long enough that it has become awkward that we aren't actually bathing."

Payton laughed softly and pointed at the bucket containing the soaps and oils that he had brought along. "Well, in case you forgot, you kind of interrupted my bath and you're in the way right now. So if you wouldn't mind...?"

The orc reached for the wooden bucket and fished out some mild-scented soaps. He held it out to Payton but before he could take it, Ghorrend closed his hands around it.

"If there are any spots that you cannot reach..." began the quickly blushing orc.

Oh shit! I think... I think he's flirting with me!

Having been satisfied with his bachelor lifestyle and with no intentions of getting into a relationship, Payton had little to no experience about these kinds of interactions beyond what little videogames offered him. His frugal and analytical mind broke down the possibilities into four options, two for proceeding with the act and two rejecting it. One course on each side played off a more authoritative and Dark Lord while the other was far more sensitive...

Do I want this? Do I want to fuck an orc?

The stirring in his loins reminded him about how he had gone almost two weeks without masturbating. He couldn't even last three days as a human so this was a marathon for him. The possibility of sex both frightened and excited him. His sex life basically died out once he became a professional accountant and settled into his life of mediocrity. Some would call it 'castration by complacency'.

But now...?

He actually had ambitions now.

... and one of those was to get laid.

Now the question remained... What would be the best way to get Ghorrend in bed? Should I be cocky, authoritative and take the 'renegade' path or should I be more comforting, understanding and be more like a 'paragon'?

"Payton?" Ghorrend asked.

Fuck! Time doesn't stop while I'm making my decision.

Oh well. Here goes...

He shrugged and crossed his arms. "Sorry. Your audacity surprised me. To ask to bathe the Dark Lord is quite ballsy."

Ghorrend, his cheeks afire and red, turned away. "Well if you're rather I..."

Payton reached out with both paws, grasping the orc's nipples and giving them a tug so that Ghorrend was forced to turn back towards him.

"Just shut up and let's fuck."

He pushed lips against Ghorrend's. The orc went rigid, freezing in place for a moment.

Fuck! Did I make the right choice!? Was I too pushy!?

In the corner of his vision, where the dialog box was, a small notification appeared.

'Payton's relationship with Ghorrend improved from Neutral to Trusted.'

His heart leapt into his throat with joy as Ghorrend dropped the soap into the water and his mighty arms wrapped around the wolf.

Then another thought entered Payton's mind...

Wait... this place tracks relationships?