How To Use Console Commands

Chapter 7

Even with the Rings of Disguise activated, Payton was nonetheless cautious as he joined the long line of travelers flocking to Gobhood in the hopes of seeing Orphan. The crowd was constantly gossiping about the Summoner and the new Reader. Apparently, the two had visited the other Provinces already and this was the last stop for Orphan before he handed off the new Reader to the next senior Reader. It again begged the question of how Readers were created.

Were they promoted from Listeners? Did they appear like Grigori?

There was so much left unknown that he felt uneasy even as he shuffled forward with the hood of his vest up to protect his features. Axter and the rest of his party stood beside him, all quietly disguised as they made their way towards security checkpoint.

Each step they took gave him a good scale of just how massive Gobhood was. The walls alone were simply enormous and he was glad he never took Tartarius' advice to charge the place with what little troops they had. While he had no doubt he could destroy the walls with a single command, there was no telling what kind of army the walls hid. At least fifty feet tall, the walls were made of pure white stone that only made the stark black and green banners of Gobhood stand out more. Each banner had to be at least fifteen feet long and half as wide.

Jesus Christ... This place is huge!

There was no need for a moat around the structure. The walls would keep away any invaders. Though he had to wonder exactly what kind of invaders Faoster had to worry about if he had absolute rule in this place.

It was only at about midday when they finally got close to the gates. That was half a day wasted from their Rings though he wasn't too worried given that he had saved the reference of the items. A couple extra copies of the artefacts jostled in his breast pocket. Gobhood guards were checking each and every person, waving a sort of wand over them.

"What's that?" he whispered softly to no one in particular.

"Likely Wands of Detect Magic," replied Durandal. "They're designed to, as you might guess, detect any form of magic."

"Uhm..."

A message appeared in the Guild chat, coming from Tartarius.

'Hey! Ghorrend! The guards here are waving fucking Detect Magic wands at us like sparklers at New Years! Please tell me these they won't see through our fucking disguises.'

He glanced over at the rhino who, while growling, hadn't said anything audibly.

A moment later, Ghorrend replied.

'I have no idea what a 'sparkler' or a 'New Years' is but they shouldn't be able to see through your disguises. Fey artifacts are different from anything we make and our magic doesn't apply to them.'

Payton quietly hoped that was true or he'd have to make his debut as the Dark Lord much earlier than expected. He wasn't too worried about himself but the guards were each Level 30 and the rest of his party was only at around Level 5. In retrospect, walking into the enemy fortress where there were Level 100s walking casually through the streets wasn't a very wise idea.

But we were running out of time...

He reached the checkpoint and the guard there waved the wand in his direction while lazily asking, "Purpose of visit?"

"To see the Reader," he lied.

"Just like everyone else." The guard's wand didn't respond and he waved Payton through. "Keep the peace. Move along."

Thank god!

He shuffled forward. Like him, the wands didn't detect the power of the Fey rings on the others. He made a mental note to leave a tip for Lysandria next time they saw one another. Even as he passed the checkpoint, there was still a very long line under the shadow of the gates before he entered the city proper. Airport queues and lines were faster than this and at least they often had air conditioning. Stifling heat, the smell of feral animals and the scent of sweaty travelers assaulted his sensitive nose.

'This place is enormous!' Ravenus exclaimed through the Guild chat. 'I've never seen anywhere so big before!'

'It is the capital of the Provice,' Durandal replied. 'The only place I know that could potentially be bigger is Kalastraad's Wastes."

Kalastraad... I know I've heard that name before.

Payton recalled seeing a vast swathe of land located far to the north on Ghorrend's map. It was heavily marked with big, red symbols and was nearly an eighth of Faoster's entire province.

'What's that?' he asked.

Even through the chat, he could detect Durandal's grim mood as he explained that Kalastraad was once a Speaker under Faoster. Like the other Speakers, he was a former Level 100 adventurer but hated goblins so much that Faoster considered him a good foil to his own goblin-based society. Back then, there was a group of 'free' goblins that had organized themselves under a Goblin King. Their King had retreated their forces to the vast lands to the north. They built a massive city for themselves and held the land for years. Kalastraad eventually had enough, considering their existence an affront to Faoster and Orphan.

'Kalastraad grew tired of Faoster just letting the Goblin King sit there so, against direct orders from the Listener, he took his elite guard and charged at what is now known as Kalastraad's Wastes. He severely underestimated their power and numbers, though."

While a powerful Speaker, Kalastraad's own troops were not so powerful. Even the few Level 100 soldiers he had were overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of the Goblins. Even a hundred Level 5 Goblins could overwhelm one Level 100 fighter. Then there were the goblins that benefited from the Horde Strength of the Goblins and suddenly, Kalastraad found himself trapped behind enemy lines.

'Goblin Kings aren't dumb, bestial creatures like the ordinary goblin,' Durandal said. 'They are smart. About as smart as anyone else. Cruel but smart. He let Kalastraad's forces charge deep enough into his territory while sacrificing his own troops so that the Speaker honestly believed he was making progress. Then, he brought out the big guns and blocked Kalastraad's advance. The rest of his army closed in behind Kalastraad, blocking off his escape. Kalastraad was forced to make a rough bulwark and defend himself against the relentless onslaught by the King.'

'Didn't Faoster help him?' Ravenus asked.

'If he did, that place wouldn't be called a 'Necropolis', would it?' Tartarius grumbled bitterly. 'Let me guess, he tried to reach out to Faoster but the message never got there. When Faoster found out about his betrayal, he sent his best troops, crushed the King and built the Necropolis in memory of Kalastraad.'

Durandal glanced at the rhino with a sad look and a shake of his head. 'No. Speakers, Listeners and Readers have this scrying spell that allows them to instantly communicate with one another. I don't know what it is but I've seen it take the shape of a silvery disc in front of them. Kalastraad was able to reach Faoster who already knew about his duplicity and refused to send anyone to save him, saying that Kalastraad had to sleep in the bed that he made.

'Betrayed and blinded by rage, Kalastraad ushered his men into one last push to try and kill the Goblin King. He made it all the way to the Goblin King's hall before he was felled.' Durandal rubbed the back of his neck just as they passed under the shadow of the gate and was greeted by the noonday sun. 'Now depending on who you talk to, the reason as to what happened next varies. Some people say that as Kalastraad fell, he unleashed one last, devastating spell - a curse - that he sent careening at the Goblin King but he missed because he was so weak. The spell went haywire and instead cursed the entire land. There are others that say that Kalastraad never made it to the Goblin King and his hate for Faoster, goblins and this entire land manifested itself in a curse that spread across the land.

'No matter what you believe, a vast swathe of land became corrupted with a curse that kills any goblin that crosses its threshold and then raises it again as an undead. Faoster tried to send troops to cleanse the land and few returned. Those that did return, however, speak of a massive Necropolis that could rival Gobhood found where the curse is strongest. To this day, the lands remain cursed.'

There was a moment of silence. The chilling ghost story left Payton wondering what kind of power would corrupt the very land like that.

"Well shit!" Tartarius exclaimed loudly, bringing everyone out of their reverie. "I think we found where we should take our next vacation!"

Out of context, he could easily be construed as talking about Gobhood. But to those that were privy to the Guild Chat knew he was talking about Kalastraad's Wastes and the Necropolis.

It might be good to learn a little something about the one guy that's scarred Faoster's reputation enough that even the Listener can't do anything about it.

'Let's focus on the here and now,' Payton announced. 'Let's first find some place to sleep and then do a bit of scouting.'

Thankfully, there were some people standing near the gates handing out what appeared to be maps and fliers. Payton took one. There was a full map of Gobhood including the names of the districts and a list of events leading up to Orphan's arrival.

I feel like I'm in Disney World or something...

Currently, they were in the outer most district known as the 'Flourishing Walls'. So named, apparently because of the fact that there were three walls that wrapped around Gobhood, each one marking the different periods of expansion. The outer most wall known as the Hobgoblin Wall was the biggest and strongest of the walls. It served as the primary means of defense against invaders. A couple of miles in, there was a second wall known as the Wall of Vines which used to be the outer wall a century or two ago until the population of Gobhood became so big that it had to expand beyond said walls. Now mostly unused, vines had grown out of the moat that had once surrounded it and covered the entire structure thus its name. The last wall protected the inner districts and was simply called Faoster's Wall as it was the first wall Faoster Goblincaller created to mark his capital city.

It was within the Flourishing Walls that the Goblin Knight made his home.

Hmmm... Goblins.

Payton cast his gaze around and noticed that there were at least three goblins per person. They scampered about between the forest of legs, weaving expertly from side to side to deliver messages, carry supplies and do all the menial tasks that none of the humans could be bothered to do. Several were constructing houses, paving roads and repairing streetlamps. Barely anyone noticed them. One man continued walking even as a goblin carrying a sack of letters had to dive to the ground to avoid crashing into him.

They're invisible to everyone else.

Using his UI, he focused on one of the goblins and despaired at its pitiful level of 1. There was a strange icon beneath its health bar, however. It was a black square with what appeared to be two shackles bound tightly together.

'Subjugated'

That's... Unnerving.

"Oh shit!" Tartarius suddenly exclaimed, pointing at the flier. "There's an open tournament for any and all challengers at the arena! The grand prize is dinner with the Goblin Knight and a shit ton of silver pieces!"

If ever there was a cliche...

"We are not entering that fucking tournament," Durandal chastised. "The last thing we need is to draw attention to ourselves."

"Yeah. Right. Like saying that aloud in the middle of a crowded street is really inconspicuous." The boar-disguised-as-a-man immediately clamped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide. To Payton, his party still appeared as Grigori but given that no one was chasing them down and calling for their beheading, they were quite safe. "If you don't want to fight, then I will! I've got these muscles. I'm gonna flex them!"

Big muscles too...

Payton shook his head from the gutter and regarded the section of the flier Tartarius had indicated. The tournament wasn't against other fighters and it wasn't to the death either. Fighters would be thrown against goblins generated by the Gobhood soldiers. The last one standing won. The tournament specifically mentioned that the goblins would not surpass Level 5.

That didn't seem too dangerous.

"I think you should join," he said, surprising both Durandal and Axter. "I think it'll be fun."

'That,' he added in the Guild Chat, 'and we need to gather information on the Goblin Knight and his forces. Even if I can just see him in person, I can scan his stats, equipment and skills.'

I can even access his character sheet and get some personal details if I need to.

"See?" Tartarius declared loudly. "Even the boss says it's okay. That's all the votes I need! I'm entering the tournament!"

There was no arguing at that point so they made their way towards the Flourishing Walls Arena. Located past the Wall of Vines, the Arena was absolutely immense. Larger than even the biggest football stadium in the United States. It could easily fit two to three thousand people. The stands themselves were positioned vertically in tiers with four levels stacked atop one another. The richest and most affluent people naturally had the seats at the very top. From the outside, it looked like a big, broad cylinder with colorful tarp drawn over the open ceiling.

The arena itself was built of the same white stone as the rest of the buildings in Gobhood. The same banners that had adorned the outer wall hung along the arena itself as well as some flags perched at the very top of the arena. There was another emblem amongst the sigils, though. It took the appearance of a single goblin head viewed on profile with against a large shield.

That must be the Goblin Knight's emblem.

An enormous crowd was streaming towards the arena. The line was nowhere near as suffocating as the lines to get into the city and there was no wait at all to sign up to fight. Scalpers and booths were set up all up and down the line, a surprisingly modern phenomenon.

"Tickets! Who needs tickets!?"

"Gobdogs! Candied Ham! Durmsticks! Right here!"

"Iced Fruity Drinks! Come get your Iced Fruity Drinks!"

Ravenus pulled at Payton's shoulder and gave him a pleading look.

Oh hell...

Puppies were cute enough but a bat giving him the puppy dog eyes with those big expressive ears was just psychological manipulation. Even before he could mentally rail at himself for being influenced so easily, his paw was already reaching into the coin purse tucked into his vest and depositing some coppers into Ravenus' hands. With a little exclamation of glee, Rav bounced over to the man selling the fruit drinks from his booth. He was given a paper cup that could easily put a super-sized cola to shame.

I guess without any restriction on resources, people tend not to have any idea about portion control. Amazing how anyone can still look as good as they do.

Ravenus returned to the line, sipping from a straw and bouncing happily on the balls of his feet. Payton wondered if he was derived more from a fruit bat than a vampire bat. Just as he turned away to head towards the contestant booth, however, the bat leaned down towards him and snuck a kiss on his cheek. Payton's paw immediately went to the site, his fur bristling with the ice-cold touch of his party member's lips but quickly melting away from the blush that was quickly taking over.

Eeep...

Tartarius proudly strutted up to the contestant booth, a small wooden desk manned by two women with a man standing on a box next to them shouting for anyone who wanted to sign-up to fight to approach. Payton noticed the distinct lack of written signs or anything apart from emblems to denote locations.

Tartarius leaned down on the wooden table, grinning broadly and winking at the woman there. "Hey there," rumbled the rhino. "I'm here to fight!"

"I see," the woman said calmly with a pleasant, forced smile. "Do you have a name?"

"Tartarius Blackhorn."

Should he have given his real name?

She nodded and gestured to her right. "Since you are named, you will be fighting alongside the other named. Your fight will take place after the unnamed fight in about thirty minutes."

"Sounds fun!" bellowed the rhino proudly. "Can we get seats while we wait?"

The woman shook her head. "Contestants must wait in the waiting room. I can offer your party members a discount however and exclusive family and-or friend seating, if you wish."

"Hell yeah! What's it gonna cost?"

"30 silver a piece."

Axter blanched and Ravenus audibly gagged. The latter regarded his enormous cup of fruit drink regretfully. Seeing his friends so miserable didn't sit well with Payton. He stepped forward and reached into his coin pouch, fishing out the sole gold coin he possessed, flashing it in front of the woman at the counter. With a quick flick of his finger, the coin duplicated and he set both coins on the table with a flourish.

"Keep the change."

The woman's eyebrows rose in suspicious. "I was going to say that you could have easily allowed us the use of a single goblin for a few hours of clean up instead of paying the amount but if you insist."

Oh right... They can use the services of goblins as a form of currency.

"We don't have any goblins," blurted Ravenus.

Gah!

The woman regarded Payton with increasing suspicion. "No goblins? Are you foreigners?'

Think fast!

"My name is Lord P -" He had to stop himself from giving his real name. "Payne Red. What my associate meant was that my goblins are currently predisposed in other transactions and we don't have any of them available right now. The gold will have to do. Or is that not acceptable?"

The woman quickly waved her hands in apology. "N - No! I apologize, my good Lord! I did not mean any offense. Please. Follow the path marked with the red line and find yourself a seat anywhere."

Oh thank god. She bought it.

When none of them moved, he looked to Tartarius who licked his head in the direction of the door. It took him a second to realize that since he had declared himself as a 'Lord', he needed to be the one to take the lead. Lifting his head in as arrogant way as he could possibly make, he strode towards the door indicated.

"Uhm! Milord!" cried the woman. "Sorry. That leads to your seats. Your gladiator must take the green path."

"Oh... uh..."

Tartarius nudged him.

'Dude,' came the Guild Chat message. 'Channel your inner Karen. You're basically royalty, remember? Don't be too nice.'

Though it made him feel sick to the stomach, he realized this was very true especially with a few people looking on in anticipation. It also made him feel somewhat disappointed in humanity that even across realities and with decades separating them, he and Tartarius understood what a 'Karen' was.

"Now that is absurd!" he exclaimed, spinning towards her with his gaze afire. "You expect my warrior, this magnificent specimen" - He made a show of grabbing Tartarius' pectoral and lost an entire second admiring how firm and plump they were - "... to wait with the other dregs! No! I have seen exactly what happens in those waiting rooms between gladiators! He will not be drugged, abused or attacked before he enters the match! He is going to wait alongside me!"

The women exchanged unsure glances. "But Milord..."

"What kind of operation are you running here!?" bellowed Payton as loudly as possible. "I pay good money to get in this competition with enough for an extra seat for my own fighter and yet you deny me that right? Fine!" He reached into his coin pouch, quickly creating about a dozen gold coins before throwing them straight at the counter. "There! Is that enough? Will that buy me the right to have my fighter stand beside me?"

The clerks at the counter raised their hands up in surrender. "O - O - Of course, Milord. P - P - Please, go on ahead."

"Thank you!" he cried, throwing his paws up into the air in exasperation. "Finally, some fucking service!"

He turned and stomped off down into the path indicated to the stands. The moment he was out of view, his shoulder slouched with the weight of such a dirty act.

"Wow," Tartarius laughed. "I didn't know you had it in you, mate."

"I feel dirty..." he admitted.

The big rhino slapped his back heartily. "Bro, you're fucking rich. It's okay to act like a total entitled bitch every now and then. The world expects it."

"It's effective," agreed Durandal. "I doubt we would have managed to get Tartarius with us safely if you hadn't thrown your financial weight around."

Payton could almost feel tears of shame pouring out of his eyes and running down his cheeks. "Doesn't mean I don't feel awful for it. Those two were just doing their jobs..."

They followed the indicated path to the second level which was reserved for the family and friends of contestants who paid the 'discounted' amount for the space. The level was divided into large stone booths with a decent view of the arena but had no actual seats for them to sit on. They were expected to stand despite the price they paid. The arena itself was a standard oval space filled with sand. Above them was where the more affluent had seats but it was the fourth level that caught his attention.

"Are those people naked?"

"It wouldn't surprise me if the fourth level is reserved more for fornication than actual viewing of the sport," Axter admitted, rubbing his furry chin thoughtfully. "I remember our circus once coming here and performing down on the arena below as a show between matches. One of our artists was distracted by a woman who was being loudly fucked from behind on the fourth level."

"Seriously!?"

"The rich can get away with anything. Even fucking in public spaces where everyone can see."

Tartarius nudged him. "Hey boss..."

"No," he growled.

"Awww, come on. I heard that some players back home have sex right before a big match to -"

"I said no."

The rhino chortled at Payton's bright red cheeks but thankfully backed off.

Payton's eyes were drawn up to the biggest of the booths positioned at the top of the arena. The massive, stone compartment was decorated with the banners of Gobhood and the Goblin Knight. Little wonder as there was a man seated on one of the three thrones positioned in the booth, protected by other members of the Gobhood guard. This man had the height of an important NPC - at least seven feet tall - and was dressed in in gold, black and green armor. His knightly appearance was different from the rest.

His breastplate was more intricate and polished, seemingly made out of liquid emerald with gold infused into it. Big, sweeping pauldrons shaped like snarling goblin heads were planted onto his shoulders with a thick, black chain connecting them and crossing his chest. There was a billowing green cape falling from his pauldrons. His big, meaty arms were exposed save for the massive black and green gauntlets he wore. A large helmet with the skull of a goblin adorning its brow was placed firmly in his grip exposing his features. Short, shoulder-length blonde hair like silken gold hung from his head, twin bang s hanging just above his brow. Chiseled, heroic features truly epitomised the image of a 'hero'. A thick brow only served to accentuate his big, green eyes.

There he is...

Like Hagden, Payton couldn't detect the Goblin Knight's level just using his UI. The level indicator was just populated by a series of question marks.

Is it because he's a Speaker that he's beyond the normal leveling standards of the world?

Only when he accessed the Goblin Knight's character sheet was he able to see the extent of the man's power. He visibly paled and had to lift a paw to his muzzle to keep himself from gasping too loudly.

Fuck me... I didn't get to see much of Hagden's stats when I was talking to him but if he's anything like the Goblin Knight, we were lucky to escape!

"Is something the matter, Master?" Axter asked in concern.

Payton took a moment to compose himself. "Uhm... What is the maximum any of our base stats can reach?"

The chimera scratched his cheek thoughtfully. "I believe the maximum anyone can reach normally without any equipment enhancements is 255 but equipment can usually push you past that. The maximum is 999."

"And that's only if you invest all your time and effort into equipment that will reach 999," Durandal added. "No one can ever reach 999 on all statistics. One at most. Why do you ask?"

Payton's heart was pounding hard in his chest. "The Goblin Knight... His Strength is at 1129. Endurance at 1498. Dexterity at 1049. Intelligence 989. Wisdom 1079. Charisma 1247." With each statistic he listed off, he could feel the shocked expressions of party and the dread that was creeping into their minds. The crushing realization that there were four such beings in this city alone and then a Listener who was potentially even stronger started to set in. Worse was impending arrival of Orphan who made Faoster.

"Delete him."

Payton turned towards Tartarius who was throwing a steely gaze at the Goblin Knight.

"You can do it, right? You can just delete him right now. End it before he even knows we're here. Because if we fight him one-on-one, you can bet we are going to die before he even touches us."

He's right.

His eyes went back up to the Goblin Knight who was cheerily waving as people cried out his title and welcomed him.

I can delete him here and now. I've got his reference ID. It'd be so simple.

But as he looked closer at the Goblin Knight's character sheet, he noticed the same little red lock in the top right hand corner of each section. As he narrowed his gaze upon it, he was greeted with a heart-sinking message.

'Locked by Admin Privileges'.

What the...?

"I can't," he mumbled softly.

"What? Why?" the rhino demanded. "We don't stand a chance against him! Even if we got up to Level 100, he'd still have the advantage!"

"I just can't right now." Payton's paws curled into fists. "Besides, we need to find a way to replace what he represents. There has got to be millions of people living in Gobhood. Most of them probably out here in the Flourishing Walls. Imagine what'd happen if the pillar of law and order was suddenly obliterated in public right here and now. There'd be chaos. Riots. People will die."

"Serves them right if you ask me." Tartarius crossed his arms and huffed. "But it's your call. I suppose I can get behind conquering this place instead of razing it to the ground."

But how are we going to replace him?

The Goblin Knight suddenly beckoned for silence and the crowd's chatter died down.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," he boomed. The power of his bright, youthful voice was like a physical blow to Payton. He had to step back as he was struck by the musical, charming notes the Knight uttered. "This is a time of grave importance. The Black Halo has returned and we are under threat once again by the Dark Lord! But fear not! For we will not let fear rule us! Our great Reader is already on his way to prepare the new Reader with the sacrifices of the Grigori! The Dark Lord will be held at bay like so many times before!"

Durandal leaned forward gripping the ledge of the booth tightly. "Sacrifices?" he spat. "Is that what you call the systematic genocide of an entire race?" Thankfully, they were too far and the crowd's cheers were too loud for him to be heard.

Though given his superhuman stats, I wonder if that's really the case.

"So let us celebrate!" exclaimed the Knight. "As we have so many times before, we welcome our contestants! Come forth! Fight and show the world that we will not be cowed by the Dark Lord!"

"He knows how to talk," Ravenus observed darkly. "Everyone is eating out of the palm of his hand. Oh and look. That couple timed it so that they climaxed just as he finished his speech."

Payton decided not to look.

"I better get going," grunted Tartarius. He offered a fist towards Payton. "Wish me luck."

He bumped the rhino's fist and nodded. "I'll watch over you."

"I'm counting on you, boss."

The rhino, carrying his mobile ballista, headed out of the booth and moments later, he along with the rest of the contestants emerged onto the sandy arena. Payton was only partially paying attention to the following speech the Goblin Knight - real name Nevaught Killgreen - welcoming the contestants.

"Hey guys," he began softly, "does everyone know the Speaker's real names? Why does everyone call them by their titles?"

It was Durandal that answered as both Axter and Ravenus shrugged. "It's mostly a sign of prestige and political power. Speakers are generally known by their titles because it ties directly to their deeds and functions."

"Why is Faoster not commonly known by his title?"

"Because he has so many titles that it's easier to know him by his name. I've heard that for Readers, the name we know them commonly as isn't actually their real names and is merely a pseudonym. The names they chose is merely used to make them more easily identifiable/"

Huh… so it's kind of like propaganda.

The easier it is to remember someone's name, the easier it to relate to them. Makes sense.

A loud horn brought him out of his internal monologue as the fight began. Several Gobhood soldiers standing behind a few gates brought out scrolls. Green rune rings with the emblem of Gobhood appeared in front of them on the other side of the gates. Goblins sprang up from those rings, completely unarmed. They screeched, afraid and confused.

This is cruel...

"Fight!" the Goblin Knight declared.

The combatants on the ground immediately charged forward, swinging their weapons at the fearful goblins. To his credit, Tartarius looked a little confused before he took a step forward. Then the rhino snorted, unslung his huge ballistae from over his shoulder and set it down on the ground, still folded and looking like a large, square slab of wood. He just sat down on it and waited.

'What are you doing!?' bellowed Axter through the Guild Chat. 'You need to fight.'

'No I don't.'

'You'll draw attention to us!'

'Just watch.'

The battle was over within seconds. The combatants got a few scratches and bruises from the desperate goblins but seeing as the humans were armed and the goblins weren't, it was a very one-sided fight. The crowd applauded and the Goblin Knight joined in.

"Bravo! Bravo!" Nevaught exclaimed. "Although, I must say, my good sir..." His eyes leveled at Tartarius. "The idea behind the event is to fight the goblins."

Tartarius grinned broadly. "Why bother? These wimps aren't a challenge. They're all Level 1 whelps. There's no threat behind them! This isn't sport. It's a slaughter! Why should I exhaust myself on small-fry when I know something bigger and more dangerous is coming?" He jerked his chin at the bloodied combatants, the sickly black blood of the goblins sticking to their bodies. "Go ahead and tire yourselves out. There can only be one winner and it's going to be the one that's still standing at the end."

There was a moment of silence... and some murmuring.

"Clever," the Goblin Knight laughed. "True enough. This is not a competition over who can kill the most goblins. That said, you should not let your guard down! Next round!"

'You're showboating,' warned Axter.

'Fuck yeah, I am.'

Those green runes appeared again, once again summoned from scrolls that the soldiers were holding. They were taking a little longer to activate this time, however, giving Payton a second to read them. The constant spinning of the circle made it somewhat difficult so he decided to bring out his book and start discretely scribbling down the words one by one. He only got through the first half before more Level 1 goblins were summoned. These ones were far more numerous but still unarmed.

After hearing Tartarius declaration, the other contestants were hesitant to just charge in... until one broad, hairy man let out a deafening bellow and charged at the goblins. This triggered a charge and the bloodbath started all over again. Payton could barely watch and he resisted the urge to plug his ears. The goblins' screams were utter torture. He had heard them when he had helped defend Avergreen but that was different. These were unarmed goblins summoned for the purpose of slaughter.

It's barbaric.

"Next round!" bellowed the Goblin Knight to the glee of the audience. It sickened Payton that, on the highest floors, people were literally getting off on the bloodshed.

The goblins took a little more time to fully manifest. This time, they were armed with rudimentary, rusty weapons. Tartarius still didn't get up from his sitting position. Some were booing him but he was unfazed. There was something to be said about just how thick the rhino's skin was.

In that time, Payton was finally able to scribe down the contents of the runes.

Huh...

_ _

'By the name of Orphan the Summoner, I call upon thee.

Manifest in this world as my guardian, my shield, my spear.

Bound to my will, obey my commands for all eternity.

Stand by my side and protect all that I hold dear.

I send thee forth as my sword to enact my will.

Your life is mine till your heart beats still.

Come forth...'

The last few words after 'Come forth' was filled with the type of goblin that seemed to change with each summoning. The Goblin Raiders that were summoned in this round were different from the Goblin Whelps that appeared in the first two rounds.

I wonder if I can use this...

The crowd winced, drawing his attention back to the battle. One of the competitors fell as he was mobbed by several goblins. Tartarius didn't get up and quietly observed as the other fighters ignored the screams of the fallen man. Though victory went to the humans again, the tide was turning. It was just as Tartarius had predicted. Three consecutive rounds were starting to drain the competitors. Other goblins came in and dragged the severely injured but still alive man out of the arena to be treated. They were already pouring red-colored healing potions onto him and Payton watched his health bar slowly recover. Several icons beneath the man's name indicated permanent injuries that likely would require some surgery or powerful healing magic to recover from.

Then the next round came.

Like previous, Goblin Raiders were summoned but in vaster numbers. The fighters, already tired as they were, were now forced to go into the defensive. The big, hairy man that had led the charge in the second round was the first to fall. The goblins went for him as he seemed to be the toughest and their sheer numbers swarmed him. His bloodcurdling scream set Payton's fur on end.

One of the Raiders spotted Tartarius and immediately charged for him.

'Watch out!' Payton cried in the Chat.

'I see him.'

Before the rusty-knife-wielding goblin could bury its knife in Tartarius, the rhino reached out and grabbed the goblin's head with one hand, easily lifting it into the air with ease. Before the little green creature could slash at him with the knife, he flung the beast into the ground, leaving it bruised but otherwise unharmed. It was the death glare from the rhino that sent the little green monster turning and screaming.

The crowd saw this all happen and their opinions of Tartarius began to change.

More fighters fell and more were dragged off to be healed.

"Next round!" the Goblin Knight exclaimed, seemingly relishing the bloodshed of man and goblin alike.

The runes appeared and, as Payton had guessed, most of the words the same except for the last line. This time...

'They're Goblin Brawlers!'

The summoned creatures were armed with more well-maintained swords and wooden shields and had a minimum of Level 3. They were still only dressed in cloth loincloths but that didn't matter. Their sheer numbers and better equipment had struck fear in the combatants.

Only now did Tartarius rise and the crowd held its breath as they watched the giant man finally act. 'Looks like it's time.'

The rhino - still disguised as a human - slammed a foot against the wooden bar that he had been sitting on. Hidden mechanisms and machinery sprang to life, unveiling the arch of a massive ballista and a compartment for several massive bolts. Even the elite who were fornicating loudly had to stop to watch the titan lift the ballista off the ground and take aim at the charging Goblin Brawlers.

There was a loud twang as the first bolt flew from Tartarius' weapon. He took careful aim and fired at an angle that the projectile speared right through the first two goblins, slammed into a third and carried it into the body of a fourth, sending both of them slamming into the nearby wall where they quivered and twitched their last. The audience standing just above where the projectile had punctured the wall gawked.

Twang! Twang! Twang!

He fired off bolt after bolt, thinning the goblins until there were only a handful left. Even with their equipment, it was more than enough for the remaining fighters to overwhelm them, ending the fight without another slain.

"Bravo!" the Goblin Knight exclaimed. "Good to see you finally join us...?"

"Tartarius," declared the rhino. "Tartarius Blackhorn."

"Tartarius." The Speaker nodded and with a wave of his hand, his soldiers began summoning the next batch.

'Still Brawlers!' Payton announced. 'More this time!'

'Got it, boss.'

Tartarius could only carry about ten bolts before his current strength wouldn't allow him to bear the weight. He had expended five in the previous round so the crowd was eager to see what he would do now that he was running low on ammo. Payton was curious as well but he trusted his friend and party member.

Twang! Twang!

Two bolts cut through the goblin ranks but their sheer numbers began tearing through the remaining contestants. The fighters realised that Tartarius' artillery was crucial to their survival so they tried to protect him almost out of instinct.

Twang! Twang!

Two more bolts and now the crowd was leaning forward to see what Tartarius would do with his last round.

"If he aims at the Goblin Knight, please stop him," Durandal pleaded.

Oh shit! He's not -

To his relief, Tartarius wasn't so bold as to try and assassinate the Speaker there and then. The rhino surprisingly pulled the last bolt out from the weapon and set it down on the ground. With a tremendous bellow, he charged at the line of goblins, stunning even his own allies when he leapt over the defenders and speared the nearest to goblins with the bolt.

The Goblin Knight leaned forward against the railings of his booth, surprised and invested in the battle. Tartarius used his surprising high Dexterity to weave through the horde, his bolt acting more like a spear than a projectile. The audience was suddenly on the edges of their seats, cheering for him as he reached one of the bolts embedded in the walls and yanked it out.

"He's collecting his bolts!" screamed one of the fans.

"He's so big and so fast!"

"By the Readers! He's not a Brawler! He's an Archer!"

Payton couldn't help but smirk at little. An Archer that specialized in Dexterity and Strength. Tartarius was literally a heavy artillery specialist. Ravenus also used bows but his arrows were not nearly as damaging as Tartarius' bolts. Rav was also much faster but Tartarius did not have to have his feet rooted to the ground either. At least not while he was wielding his weapon.

Tartarius collected five of the bolts easily and then charged back towards his weapon. More of his fellow competitors had fallen by the time he had reloaded and began firing again. When the last goblin fell, only five of them were left and the crowd was going absolutely wild.

"He's getting a following," murmured Axter. "This might be how we bring down the Goblin Knight."

Wait... Huh?

Instead of asking, Payton remained silent and hoped someone else would fill in the blanks.

"What do you mean?" Ravenus asked, slurping his fruit drink loudly.

Thank you, Rav!

"If Tartarius gets a fanbase or a following, people will be more likely to listen to him. It could be a way we turn the tide against the Goblin Knight."

"That would take far too long," Durandal observed. "But it's a start. Enough to cast doubt, for sure."

An idea sprang into Payton's mind.

That's right... Maybe we can start a smear campaign or something...

Still doesn't answer the question of what we'll replace the likes of the Goblin Knight with...

"Next round!"

The declaration came with bigger runes and magic circles. This time, there were two rune circles. Though they both said exactly the same thing.

'Goblin Wolf Riders!'

The Level 5 goblins immediately came riding big, angry grey wolves. They were far more well-armed and even had crude, leather armor. It was their speed that put Tartarius at a disadvantage. His attacks were slow but extremely damaging. Against the speedy Wolf Riders, the rhino suddenly found himself unable to turn fast enough to get a good bead. The wolves orbited the small party, nipping and snarling while the goblins swung at them with spears. One man was skewered through the shoulder and was dragged off to the side, screaming all the way.

'Tartarius!'

'I've got this.'

The rhino reloaded his ballista... then turned it straight upwards. He and his weapon glowed a soft, yellow. He was activating a skill. A second later, he fired the bolt straight into the sky... where it disappeared against the haloed sun.

The Goblin Knight smirked.

Huge ballista bolts suddenly rained down all from the sky. The Wolf Riders stood no chance. The skill was ordinarily used for normal arrows but when used with the bolts of a ballista, it was utterly devastating. Each bolt was at least eight feet long and tipped with an arrowhead the size of a man's head. With dozens of them suddenly raining down at high speeds, the goblins didn't have the time to react as they and their mounts were brutally skewered.

The crowd cheered even louder.

The Goblin Knight even threw a fist into the air and joined the cheering.

"We have our winner!" bellowed Nevaught. "Tartarius Blackhorn! For showing not only restraint, wisdom and strength, you take the highest honors of this tournament!"

The warriors who fought alongside Tartarius slumped to the ground, sighing with relief. Some even shook his hand, grateful that he had saved them from suffering.

Payton sighed softly himself.

That went better than expected.

******

Carlisle was a brutal taskmaster and one that made Ghorrend often question who was the real Governor in this small town. The architect demanded materials and equipment that was necessary to truly reinforce Avergreen and create the fantastical underground city that Payton required. Thankfully, in terms of materials, Payton could create the tons upon tons of stone required and would just drop it off in the Guild Stash. Carlisle would then just retrieve it and order the citizens of Avergreen to start building whatever contraption he needed often without consulting Ghorrend.

It irked the Orc especially when he needed a few troops to accompany him to other towns and start negotiations with them. He hadn't been able to do more than just send a few magical letters to other town governors and not make personal appearances as Carlisle was demanding more and more of his workers.

The letters coming back were not very encouraging.

He broke the was seal of one such scroll. It came from the nearby town of Highever, a far more prosperous town than Avergreen blessed with fertile lands that sloped gently upwards with the town itself positioned on the edge of a cliff. The green wax was emblazoned with the emblem of three towers poised on the edge of such a cliff. The moment he broke the seal, the parchment immediately unfurled and reshaped itself into a pair of lips.

“I don't know who you are or what kind of demon possessed you to lay claim on Avergreen but I know the mayor of that town personally and you are not him. To blaspheme against the Readers by claiming fealty to the Dark Lord is tantamount to treason. I am assuming this is some prank so I won't be sending my troops to find you and kill you. Cease this childish behavior immediately. You have been warned."

The little paper mouth immediately shred itself up into pieces, erupting in a shower of confetti-like fragments that joined the large pile at the base of his desk. With a groan, Ghorrend ran a hand down his face, catching his fingers momentarily on his tusks. He was still getting used to them but that was the least of his worries.

None of the towns were responding well to his offers for an alliance. Avergreen was never one of the bigger towns and barely even had a militia when he had attacked it as Gaolsheer the Executioner. Even with more and more of the Gobhood troops joining their ranks slowly, their greatest strength was Carlisle's defenses. In terms of military might, they had next to nothing.

“What I wouldn't do for some of those goblin-summoning scrolls," he muttered softly to himself.

A soft knock came to the door and he looked up. The vast office of the mayor was something he was unaccustomed to. Compared to the bloody shack that he had lived in back when he was a simple executioner, this was something entirely different. The walls were clean and decorated with various banners and cabinets. Plants added a much-needed greenery to the otherwise drab surroundings. Any blood on the expensive carpet beneath his feet would have caused Lysandria to throw a fit. The broad, stone desk in front of him occupied most of the office and probably the only thing he really liked about the room.

The wooden door at the other end of the office swung open slowly and Amberline stepped in. Her bright blue hair always struck Ghorrend as far too… 'loud'. How she ever managed to blend in with anyone confused him. Then again, he doubted she actually went out and conversed with ordinary humans.

“What do you want, dragon?" he grunted.

She regarded him with concern. “You've been sequestered away here or in your quarters for the better part of the last few days. People are growing concerned."

“People or you specifically?"

A soft grimace left her lips. “I admit, the concern comes from me predominantly." She entered the room and closed the door behind her. “I see you've received the letters from other towns. I take it they weren't too enthusiastic about joining our cause."

“Of course not," he growled. With one, meaty hand, he shoved the three or four other scrolls off his desk. “What sane man would just abandon their own long-held beliefs for someone they have never met? I would go to them personally if Carlisle didn't keep commandeering my troops!"

Amberline cocked her head to the side. “Do you think a show of force will really convince the other townships to join our cause?"

“They will only understand force!"

The dragon shook her head. “Are you sure? Think about it. We have… perhaps a hundred well-trained troops now varying from level 15 to 30. The closest town is Talleer Plains. They are much more well off and have at least fifty soldiers. Even though that is half our number, if we attack them, we would likely still be routed because they have the advantage of their defenses. Even more so with the bigger towns. We simply do not have the leverage. Worse, they have the backing of Gobhood behind them so they have nothing to fear in terms of sheer force.

Ghorrend slammed a fist into the table. “Then what do you suggest!?" he roared. “Force is all I've ever known! What else am I supposed to do!"

The dragon was unperturbed. Why would she be? As an Elder Dragon, she was a Level 100 Boss-class monster that was designed to take on multiple Level 100 heroes at once. A simple Level 21 Berserker like himself was just an ant to her.

“Force is all Gaolsheer the Executioner has ever known," she said sagely. “But you aren't Gaolsheer anymore, are you? You're Ghorrend, Governor of Avergreen and loyal vassal of our Dark Lord Payton Rendshaw. You must think beyond who you were and start growing into your new role."

He groaned and slouched into his seat. “How? What am I suppose to do?"

The dragon strode forward and sat on the edge of the table. “I have lived a very long time, Ghorrend. I have seen the rise of the Readers and the fall of the civilization that came before. I long for the days when things go back to the way they once were but I know that is impossible. People do not forget and those that do are doomed to repeat the mistakes of the past.

“As generic as it sounds, you need to do something about your previous identity. Whatever it is, you need to come to terms with the fact that you are someone else now and embrace that. Not very many people get the opportunity to be reborn as you have."

Ghorrend lowered his gaze, regarding the big green hands that were tightly clenched into fists in front of him.

“Perhaps… Perhaps you're right."

The door suddenly burst open and one of the soldiers he had recruited came charging in.

“Sir! The Dark Lord has returned!"

*******

Tartarius was riding a decent high after his victory in the arena. He would never admit it to anyone but he was honestly worried about his chances when the Goblin Knight began sending more and more, higher-level goblins at him. On the one hand, he had hoped Payton would just delete the bastard there and then but now that he thought about it, that would have been an extremely stupid move. While he considered himself fairly on the more 'evil' side of the traditional RPG alignment spectrum, any person who could stand there, summon goblin after goblin and just let people slaughter them was another piece of work entirely. That sort of evil gave him pause.

Still, he had to wonder why Payton was so hesitant about deleting the Goblin Knight. His boss had mentioned that he 'can't' delete the leader of the Flourishing Walls... not that he 'won't'. Were there limits to Payton's abilities as the Dark Lord? Ultimately, he didn't care. It would be far too boring if they just went around using Payton's skills to eradicate every enemy in their path. This was more exciting.

Victory at the arena had earned him a dinner with the Goblin Knight. Unfortunately, that meant only he had the dinner. No one else could come. Payton's words about the Knight's statistics loomed over head. Approaching the Goblin Knight's manor truly felt like he was walking right into the lion's den.

The manor itself sat on a large hill between the first and second walls. Surprisingly close to the outer wall where it could be easily attacked were a siege to occur. Then again, few people would even dare even attack Gobhood so the danger was basically negligible. Maybe it was all an attempt make the Goblin Knight more approachable because he was so close to danger.

"Fucking politics," Tartarius grumbled. Payton had insisted he bathe before meeting the Goblin Knight and he only agreed because the request came from the wolf. He couldn't say no to that guy. Not only had Payton saved his life but he reminded him of the boyfriend he had left back in his own world. The connection of living in similar Earths had brought them even closer. It felt nice to have someone so similar in this alien world. Though he had to wonder if there were any others like him.

He rubbed his neck absently, trying to cool the prickling sensation that was eating at him and the light blush on his cheeks as he thought about Payton. A pit of jealousy bubbled in his chest at the thought that Ghorrend of all people got to sleep with his boss first.

Hopefully after this, he would prove that he was also eligible.

The rhino growled at himself and slapped his own cheeks. "Come on, Tar. This is stupid. You can't go soft on the boss. Not yet, anyway. You've got a job to do."

Axter had tried to persuade him to put on something a little more formal and utilize Amberline's skills as a seamstress but he had flat out refused. If he was going to have dinner with the Goblin Knight, he was going to do so in the same clothes that he wore when he fought in the arena. The five hundred silver coins he had won as part of the tournament would not be spent on new fancy clothing just for one dinner. Besides, that silver could be used for other things even though Payton could easily clone even a single piece.

The mansion was, as to be expected by someone calling themselves the 'Goblin Knight' adorned with various statues and symbols of goblins and Gobhood. Naturally, the three-eyed, three-faced emblem of Gobhood stood at the very top of the entrance while two, enormous status of goblins, fully adorned in knightly raiments sat on either side of the big, green, stone doors with their swords crossed. As he approached, a smaller wooden door off to the side of the main door sprang open and a goblin dressed in a butler's outfit approached.

He had never really gotten to see a goblin up close and personal or had the time to fully appraise them. Barely coming up to 4 feet in height, the creatures had rough, deep green skin that sported warts in odd places. Despite the fancy clothing, Tartarius could still see where the collars these creatures had to wear once bound tightly around their necks to permanently form a lighter green scar. Pieces of the goblin's long, pointed ears were also missing in places. Most people wouldn't give it a second glance but to him, it was apparent. The goblins had long, pointed, hook-like noses that extended beyond their faces and big, dark eyes. There was a glassy quality to their stares.

Beaten and broken.

This particular goblin strode up to Tartarius and held out a hand to him wordlessly. Had he been here for any other reason, he would have grabbed the disgusting creature's face in one hand and crushed with a simple squeeze. As it stood, he fished out a scroll and handed it to the little greenskin. The goblin unfurled the scroll. The words on it - a text that Tartarius couldn't understand - danced with magical lights before vanishing off the parchment. The goblin nodded and then shuffled towards the big, green doors that seemed to be made of malachite or solid beryl. With a wave of his grubby little hands, the goblin triggered the door to open. The enormous double doors that was twice as tall as Tartarius swung open as easily as one would blow a leaf through the wind.

The rhino stilled his racing heart and followed the goblin into the manor. A large, circular atrium greeted him with every pillar shaped like a goblin forced to hold up the curved, dome-shaped ceiling. The polished, marble floors were divided into an almost stained-glass-like mosaic that looked like the three-eyed, three-faced goblin emblem of Gobhood. Banners displaying both the Goblin Knight and Gobhood's sigils hung from the ceilings.

His chauffeur beckoned him towards one of the doors, thankfully a more reasonable wooden one that didn't loom over him. Beyond, there was a long dining room table with the Goblin Knight, wearing his armor waiting by the fireplace. There was another person there, dressed in fancy clothing and not someone he recognized.

"Ah, you're here," greeted the Goblin Knight, lifting a golden goblet he was holding. "We can begin." The Knight turned towards the bright-eyed, square-jawed stranger. "You haven't met. This is the winner of the unnamed tournament. Now recently named, in fact. Meet Verinas Ebonblade."

Tartarius strode over and held out his hand only for this Verinas to come charging towards him, grabbing his hands and shaking it enthusiastically. The blue-eyes boy had to be at least twenty-years of age and had the build of a young farmhand; well-built, lean and with skin tanned from years working out in the sun.

"A pleasure to meet you! I can't imagine how hard it was to fight in the named tournament! I hope to join next time!"

"He's... He's got a lot of energy," Tartarius laughed, having to force his arm away from the boy.

"An avid fan of mine," the Goblin Knight said, heading over towards the head of the table. "Come. Let us eat. You must be starved."

"Famished!" exclaimed Verinas, practically leaping into the seat to the left of the Knight. Tartarius took the seat opposite to him. The moment they were seated, goblins came out from the nearby doors carrying platters of food.

"Oh boy!" cried the boy, rubbing his hands enthusiastically together. There was a light salad provided to them on a plate that was at least three times bigger than the actual serving. Vernias practically inhaled it all even before Tartarius could reach down for his fork.

"Slow down, kid," the rhino said. "You're going to choke."

"Go easy on him," chuckled the Goblin Knight. "I imagine this is the first time that he's actually eaten anything close to be considered 'fine dining'."

The salad was light, crisp and fresh. The leafy vegetables mixed with some radishes, a light, creamy mustard-like dressing, walnuts and fresh, plump grapes. It was a far-flung difference from the meals that Axter prepared for him. The moment he began eating it, little announcements sprang up on his screen indicating that he was a certain percentage away from obtaining a new kind of bonus unique to this salad. He was surprised when so many buffs started appearing for him. There were things such as bonus to his overall health points, extra actions points for his skills, extra experience gain and resistance to poison.

And that was just the first course.

"This is great!" he exclaimed. "I've never eaten anything like it!"

"A specialty of sorts from my chefs," answered the Goblin Knight. "It does pale compare to the Head Chef's Gobhood Stew variants but by the end of this meal, you will have gained just as much if not more benefits."

"It's fantastic!" Verinas cried, practically crying in his seat when his plate was taken away as he had already finished. "What's next?"

"Give us some time to digest!" Tartarius scolded and took his second mouthful.

"Have some wine," the Goblin Knight urged, pushing a jug towards him. "It'll tide you over until the next course comes." He turned a smile towards Tartarius as the young, newly-named began pouring himself some wine. "That was quite an amazing fight today, by the way. There were quite a few named out there that were hoping to earn themselves distinction in the battlefield so that I would promote them to the next level. Unfortunately, it doesn't seem that you've even reached Level 20."

Verinas blanched visibly. "No way! What level are you!?"

"Five," Tartarius responded curtly.

"And you won the named tournament!? No way! I heard that there was a Level 20 guy there!"

It was probably the big, hairy guy who had thought to charge into the battle and exhaust himself very easily. The guy hadn't lasted long. Gaolsheer had provided a far bigger threat than that guy.

"Levels and Stats aren't everything," he responded. "Doesn't matter how you kill a guy, if he's dead, he's dead. I mean, those goblins were barely level 3 and yet they still swarmed him."

The Goblin Knight agreed as he finished off his salad. "This is true. Even the greatest of us are still mortals. One mistake is all it takes to turn us into corpses. Named or unnamed."

That seemed to sober up the young Verinas and the boy lowered his gaze in respect. The Goblin Knight seemed to sense this and he reached over, his armored hand resting on the kid's shoulder.

"But do not be disheartened. You earned your name today. Tell me, why did you join the tournament?"

The boy's expression brightened almost instantly. "Because I love Gobhood so much, sir! I know I should be happy with my lot in life as a simple farmer within your walls but I want to do more! I want to serve Gobhood! I wish to serve Lord Faoster and you!"

The Knight laughed softly. "You could have joined the guards if you wanted."

"But that would take too long! I want to do more now! Earning a name is how I hoped to do that!"

Tartarius could say a lot about the eagerness of this kid and how it would likely get him killed but Verinas' innocence and purity would be quashed with harsh reality soon enough. He would let the boy have this night before something came along that shattered the illusion of his perfect world.

"And what of you, Sir Blackhorn," the Knight asked. "Why did you join the tournament?"

Part of him wanted to blurt out that he was here to kill the Knight, grab the steak knife and jam it right into the bastard's left eye but he remembered Payton's words and those statistics.

"There was silver and a free meal out of it," he answered with a shrug. "What other reason did I need?"

"That can't be all," blurted Verinas. "Didn't you do it to prove your love of Gobhood? What about for Master Orphan? To stand in unity against the Dark Lord and the Black Halo?"

It took everything he had to avoid decking the boy there and there. Thankfully, the next meal arrived. It seemed like a simple pea soup. He tried it and it was like drinking the smoothest, richest silk ever. A light blush touched his cheeks and he loudly exclaimed, "Holy shit! This is like sipping on warm cum fresh from a dick! I love it!"

Verinas looked horrified at the comparison and the Goblin Knight almost did a spit take, having to turn away and cover his lips with a napkin to keep himself from chuckling. Various additional bonuses came popping up in his vision. Improved health and ability point regeneration as well as movement speed. All of this, however, was timed. It would last for the next two days. Still, that was an incredible boost. The fact that the bonuses would last for two whole days spoke volumes about the quality of the food.

Idle chatter followed with Verinas gushing over the Goblin Knight's many exploits and his pride about becoming a named of Gobhood. The boy kept going on and on about the great deeds he hoped to accomplish and when the fish course came - a beautiful seared fish with skin on a bed of grilled fennel and an orange sauce - the kid made the most outrageous claim that the Goblin Knight had his second spit take of the night.

"And I'll conquer Kalastraad's Wastes!"

Even Tartarius had to pause on that one.

"Let's not set our sights too high, alright?" the Goblin Knight warned. "Remember, you're just Level 1 right now. Going out into Kalastraad's Wastes is tantamount to suicide."

"What is that place like?" Tartarius asked. "I've only ever heard stories."

The Knight's shoulder sagged heavily. "Honestly? I don't know. Only the Head Chef and Emerald Mage makes excursions out there. From what I hear, Level 100 undead goblins constantly roam the wastes."

"Level 100? I thought ordinary goblins couldn't get past Level 20 and then their Horde Strength powers up one goblin amongst them beyond that."

He got a smile from the knight for that. "Ah. You are well informed. That only applies to normal goblins. These are undead goblins. Normal conventions do not apply to them. As undead, they grew much more powerful quicker and gain access to high-tier skills but their overall statistics are far below that of any other Level 100 person. In theory, even a person a fraction of their level could decimate their ranks so long as they can avoid the initial attack and counterattack."

That was a good thing to know.

"If that's the case, then why don't you just go and retake the Wastes?" Verinas asked. "You're way stronger than any Level 100! You could conquer the Wastes yourself!"

Every cell in Tartarius' body wanted to get up, overturn the table and pin the boy to the ground, yell at him just how stupid he was to think he can do everything himself and expect the world to be grateful. He was only stopped when the Goblin Knight chuckled softly.

"Ah, to be young again." The Knight leaned back in his chair, leaving his fish course half-finished while swirling some white wine in his goblet. The servant goblins came in and took away their plates to serve a beautifully steak with roasted vegetables and a butter-herb sauce.

"If there is something you should always remember about being named," continued the Speaker. "We are not gods. We are not infallible or immortal. Not even the Listeners or Readers have that level of omniscience. The reason we divide our strength and jurisdiction amongst one another is because we simply cannot do everything ourselves." He lifted an armored finger and waggled it at Verinas. "This is the lesson we must take away from Kalastraad's fall. He was a Speaker who grew far too arrogant of his own power and thought he could do everything himself. He challenged an entire goblin kingdom with the best of intentions but his arrogance led to his ultimate defeat.

"That is why we need parties. That is why we need help from others. That is why we must stand united. It is only through the aid of others that we can overcome the great challenges of this world including the threat of the Dark Lord."

"Is that why we kill Grigori?" Tartarius said in a low growl.

The Goblin Knight seemed a little surprised by the statement before nodding sadly. "It is a necessary sacrifice. The Grigori are doing their part for the greater good."

He was so tempted to remove the Ring of Disguise there and there and reveal himself to be a Grigori but he resisted the urge and instead bit into the steak. The savory, juicy meat distracted him from his rage. Still, he felt the cautious stare of the Goblin Knight on him.

"I sense that you don't necessarily approve of our treatment of the Grigori."

"How can I?" Tartarius replied with a snarl. "These are poor, scared people who barely take two steps into this world and suddenly, they're being hauled off for execution. They probably died in their own worlds and now they come here to die again. That's just some sick, cosmic joke."

Verinas jumped to his feet, his eyes wide in fury and shock. "That's blasphemy!"

The Goblin Knight waved him down. "That is the curse of being named, Verinas. Our intelligence stats rise and we have the luxury of questioning the way of things. It is good. It's healthy." He turned to Tartarius. "I understand your position. There was a time when I felt the same way as well."

Every fiber of the rhino sincerely doubted that. This was just empty sentiment before he began trying to convince him of his point of view.

"If it were up to me, the Grigori would live long, fruitful lives as elevated members of society akin to lords and ladies. They should be standing at the pinnacle of our society for their ultimate sacrifice to the Readers." The Goblin Knight sighed softly. "Sadly, the urgency of the Black Halo demands that they be executed expeditiously. The Dark Lord could rise at any given moment and unlike our Readers who share the power amongst themselves, the Dark Lord is known to be the very epitome of all that makes mortals corrupt; capricious, avaricious and merciless. Were he ever to rise, he could consume the powers of any Grigori he comes across and become even more powerful than any one Reader. Even should our Readers' combined might eventually repel him, he will deal significant damage to us all..."

"And just rise a decade later, right?" Tartarius pressed. "That's the justification behind killing all the Grigori as quickly as possible. Keep the Dark Lord from gaining their powers himself. It'd be a war of attrition he'd win eventually."

"What do you mean?" Verinas asked, puzzled.

The rhino's gaze never left the Goblin Knight's. "One Reader is spawned every Black Halo. Even if the Dark Lord came and killed just two Readers, then we'd be down one Reader. Worse, we'd lose the experience those Readers gained and that's irreplaceable."

The Goblin Knight nodded, smilingly softly. "I see you understand. Yes. That is exactly right."

"No. It's not right. It makes sense. Doesn't make it right." Tartarius returned to eating his steak but the Goblin Knight would not let go of the topic.

"Do you want to know why they gave me the title of Goblin Knight?" The Speaker only got a grunt in reply. "It isn't because, as rumors would state, I like to fornicate with goblins."

It was Tartarius' turn to choke a little on his food. "The fuck!?" he exclaimed, turning back to the Knight. That was a mistake as now his attention was locked with the Knight's. Even if it was just for a few short minutes of shock, the Speaker now had an opening to plead his case.

"I don't love Goblins but I understand their place in this world."

"As humanity's fuckboys?"

"Not quite," the Knight chuckled softly. "I'm sure Faoster and the Emerald Mage would argue otherwise but in my opinion, goblins serve a purpose. They are an incredible resource that would have gone to waste had we continued to live under the Emerald Mage and Faoster's old system."

System? There was a system before the Goblin Knight? Even though he was months older than Payton in this world, he was still brought into Lexcia under the current system of goblin use. He had no idea what the world was like before this existing system.

Seeing that he had Tartarius' attention, the Goblin Knight explained that initially - before Faoster took over this territory - goblins were like roaming, nomadic rats. They would travel all over the world, find some place unmonitored by humanity and then set up camp. They would grow in number and when local resources could no longer support them, they would go out and raid to feed their increasing horde. As more were added to their numbers, their Horde Strength would kick in. More and more dangerous goblins would rise.

"Every species apart from Grigori have their own unique way of leveling up and growing stronger," explained the Goblin Knight. "We humans give one another names and our Governance and Leadership Skills determine one another's levels. For Goblins, it's all about their numbers."

That was news to the rhino. He had to wonder how other species leveled up.

Goblins became a menace and would attack and raid territories from other Listeners and Readers until Faoster finally came along and became the Listener of Goblins. Initially, he travelled what would become Faoster's Province with Kalastraad and the Emerald Mage, slaying goblins and culling their numbers.

Then, with the Greensmith, he built Gobhood. Back then, it had acted as a bulwark and staging area to strike out at goblin positions. Together, they found a way to make powerful anti-goblin weaponry or even weapons that were fully powered by goblin flesh and blood. But it was the Emerald Mage that truly turned the tide against the growing goblin threat. The Emerald Mage found a way to lure all goblins all over the world to Gobhood, tempting them to attack the growing city in foolish and often reckless ways.

"The lands outside Gobhood were fertilized with the blood, flesh and bones of millions of goblins who thought they could attack Gobhood and were lured by the Emerald Mage's spell," the Goblin Knight continued. "Eventually, over the course of a centuries, every goblin in Lexcia was restricted to Faoster's province."

Then came the next steps; controlling the goblins. Faoster and the Emerald Mage wanted to exterminate each and every goblin and ensure that the only way a goblin could manifest in Lexcia was for them to be summoned directly by those in Gobhood. But that didn't solve the issue that once a goblin was summoned, once its job was done, it would not just leave. It was still a goblin and without any purpose and its own primal intelligence, it could go wild, escape and give rise to another Goblin King.

Faoster's solution was to kill them all once they had outlived their usefulness. This worked for a little while until the bodies just kept piling up and they were being killed faster than they could decompose. The Head Chef was initially a simple gravedigger for the goblins who found a solution on how to get rid of the goblin corpses quicker and helped make Gobhood that much cleaner. He was given a name and in his time since then, became a Speaker. However, as Gobhood's population grew and its demand for goblins grew, the Head Chef was finding it hard to keep up.

"And that's where you came in," Tartarius stated.

"Indeed," the Goblin Knight said with a nod. "I showed Faoster and the Emerald Mage that by simply training the goblins instead disposing of them with every use, we could keep waste down and effectively have a cheap form of defense that would spare our more important troops if battle were ever to come to us. After the fall of Kalastraad, this was needed more than ever and they understood the value of goblin numbers."

Verinas with back on his feet, his eyes glimmering with eye. "You're so amazing, Lord Knight! I can't believe you're so smart! My loyalty is so well-placed!"

The Knight shook his head and waved him down. "I simply took what was being considered as waste and made it into something useful. In a way, I made the sacrifices of those before me - Kalastraad, the goblins and all those that had died - worth something. The same could be said about the Grigori. We are using their sacrifice for the greater good of all."

Tartarius couldn't keep it any longer.

'You mean by torturing the fucking goblins until their spirits are broken like glass that was sat on by a fucking bull and then shit on_!?'_

There were a few concerned questions across the Guild Chat.

'Ignore me. Just getting a lecture from this self-righteous fuckwit.'

Tartarius finished off his steak without a word. When dessert arrived - a beautiful pana cotta - he ate it without comment, just lying that pana cotta was his favorite even though it tasted like ash. His mind was consumed by this justification that the Goblin Knight over the slavery of the goblins and the systematic beheadings of any Grigori they could find.

If the goblins were allowed to run amok, they would spread like wildfire and create threats that could even rival Speakers. Instead, they were forced into servitude. Alive but battered and broken. The Grigori were no different. They were resources not people.

All because it would serve the greater good, the stability of Lexcia.

Dessert was done and Tartarius rose from his seat, ready to leave. "Thank you for the meal," he announced. "I'm going to head out."

Verinas regarded him through the glazed expression of a young man who was clearly drunk out of his mind. "Going so soon? The night is young!"

With devious grin, Tartarius said, "Got that right, kiddo. I'm gonna go see if I can spend some of that silver on some quality hos." He waggled his eyebrows at the Goblin Knight. "Whatcha think, Sir Knight? You wanna wet your dick in something other than goblin pussy?"

The Knight laughed softly, his cheeks a little red from the wine. "Thank you but I shall pass. My young charge will need some care."

"Suit yourself."

It was the perfect excuse to leave and as he turned for the door, there was that goblin again ready to escort him out. Half of him was tempted to kill the poor bastard so that it wouldn't have to suffer through this existence much longer but that would potentially expose him and Payton.

He followed the goblin butler out the door and left the Goblin Knight's manor.

He didn't get far, though.

"Don't you just hate self-righteous pricks like Nevaught?"

That voice made him freeze.

Hagden Hoblood emerged from behind a tree. The darkness of the avenue helping to mask his broad figure.

"Lord Greensmith," Tartarius begun.

"Don't bother with that farce, Grigori," the Greensmith said, leaning against the tree casually. "You may be disguised as a human but there's no doubt you were one of those Grigori that followed the supposed 'Dark Lord'."

"You've got the wrong guy -"

"You sure about that? You're wearing the same clothes and are carrying the same weapon. No use lying to a blacksmith, boy."

'Fuuuuuuuuck'

"Okay," Tartarius growled, hands closing into fists. "What the hell do you want?"

The Greensmith gave him a dark, maniacal smile. "Just a moment of your time. I want to talk to you about Kalastraad."

******

_ _

_ _

'Okay. I'm ready.'

The moment those words came over the guild chat, Payton immediately highlighted Tartarius' name and used the 'teleport to character' option. Unlike when he used the SetLoc command, a magical rune circle appeared beneath his feet. It was the same rune circle that contained the haloed sun. He vanished in a flash and a moment later, reappeared in the middle of a large, empty warehouse. Tartarius stood to his left but opposite them stood the Greensmith.

Hagden Hoblood's red eyebrows rose, his smile curling upwards in amusement. "So that's how you did it. I wondered how you could make four days worth of travel in an instant."

"My secrets are my own, Hoblood," Payton responded with a growl. "Now what do you want?"

The Greensmith shrugged his broad shoulders and leaned backwards against the many, large, wooden crates around them. "Simple, really. I want to help you destroy Faoster and Gobhood."

Did... Did I just hear that right?

"You'll have to forgive my skepticism," Payton admitted. "Why would you want that?"

"Because he's fucking bored," replied Tartarius. The Greensmith regarded the rhino with a curious look but said nothing. "Gobhood, just like the rest of this fucked up world is stagnant. This asshole has been looking for ways to make better and better weapons out of goblin materials but just can't do that because every goblin in all of Lexcia is right here in this province and brainwashed. They can't activate their Horde Strength so there can't be any Goblin Kings anymore. He wants us to get rid of Gobhood, destroy the control the Listener has on the goblins and let them loose so he can harvest them for his weapons."

Hagden let out a loud laugh, his smile evolving into a broad, sadistic grin. "Quite perceptive! Now how did you pull all of that together?"

Yeah, Tar. How?

"It's something the Goblin Knight said. He said Faoster and the Emerald Mage were all up for killing goblins when they took over. The Head Chef got rid of the bodies but it was the Goblin Knight who made it so that there isn't any excessive killing anymore. He never said anything about you apart from the fact that you built the original fort that Gobhood was based on and make weapons for them." Tartarius' eyes narrowed. "So I had to wonder exactly how you fit into all of this. Then it hit me." The rhino's lips curled upwards into a snarl. "You don't."

He doesn't...?

The Greensmith sighed heavily and nodded. "You've got me. I don't fit into this system. Goblins are treated like a commodity. Destruction of one without cause is considered just as heinous as say rape or murder. It's disgusting."

"They're alive!" barked Tartarius. "Broken but alive."

Whoa... Tar, where is this coming from?

Hagden ignored the outburst and glanced off to the distance. "Here is the ugly truth. The Goblin Knight is naive. He likes to believe that he's instilled this sense of value for the goblins. To the common man, that's certainly the case even if they're still treated as cannon fodder. But to the other Speakers? It's still part of our lives. The Emerald Mage experiments on goblins. He gets men to rape goblin women after they consume his potions to create goblin hybrids. For what purpose, I can't tell. You know the Gobhood Stew? Goblin meat. The Head Chef regularly kills any goblin he finds unworthy or even looks at him the wrong way to feed the masses constantly hungry for his free food. Faoster? He fucks them. We Speakers built our whole lives around the death of goblins. Nothing Nevaught says will change that even if makes sense. He's just the face of Gobhood. The person everyone trusts and puts their faith in. But the rest of us? We live off death."

"So you want us to kill the Goblin Knight so that his control over the goblins is released and he can destroy all of Gobhood?" Tartarius accused. "That's some fucked up logic."

Payton's eyes narrowed.

No...

"You're not doing this for anyone else but yourself," accused the Dark Lord. "There's something you're after. What is it?"

The Greensmith laughed softly, covering his face with his big hands. He peeked through a couple of fingers, his dark eyes staring right at Payton. "You've read my mind. You know that I despise goblins with all my heart. Why do you think I want this?"

The problem with a character sheet was that it revealed a person's past in their biography but not their motivations. Payton could make an educated guess but it wasn't necessarily accurate.

This calls for some deduction...

"You want to kill them all."

Hagden threw his head back and let out a loud, terrible laugh. There were tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. "This society disgusts me! A whole province dependent on those foul, little green men!? It's an abomination! It's utterly abhorrent! I could systematically go around killing every goblin in this city. There are men loyal to me that would be more than willing to do so. We might eventually be defeated but we'd kill every goblin here! We'd even burn the summoning scrolls to keep more from being created!"

The Greensmith then leveled his gaze at Payton. "But you know what that won't solve?"

"The Emerald Mage creating more?" Tartarius supplied. "Faoster and the other Speakers summoning more?"

"Yes and yes. But one more thing."

Payton's tilted his head to the side. "Any goblins outside of Gobhood and the undead goblins of Kalastraad's Wastes."

Hagden applauded though he wasn't sure if it was in a mocking gesture or genuine glee. "You are so clever!"

A picture was forming in his head. A plan.

"You want me to go to Kalastraad's Wastes," Payton said. "You want me to recruit the undead there. Be like a rallying cry to all the goblins not in Gobhood. I'll have an army strong enough to storm Gobhood. When the siege begins, you'll attack from the inside. Sabotage everything you can. We'll come in, kill the Speakers and Faoster and you'll finally have your revenge against all the goblins. All the goblins are here in this province right? When the Listener of Goblins is dead, the summoning scrolls destroyed and all other goblins dead in the battle, the entire race will be extinct."

The Speaker pointed at Payton and then went right back to applauding. "Perfect! Absolutely perfect! Your powers are truly amazing, Your Great Darkness!"

Not really. It was kind of obvious when you think about it... Twisted but still obvious.

"What makes you think we can even recruit the goblins of Kalastraad's Wastes?"

There, Hagden's manic grin returned. "Let me tell you a secret." He leaned forward, speaking in an exaggerated whisper. "There's a secret about Kalastraad's Wastes. Three, actually. The first, the 'undead goblins' aren't actually undead. They're just goblins who wear the skulls of the fallen and paint themselves in black and white to make themselves look like skeletons. The second, they're actually sentient. They think and are as intelligent as you or I."

Both Payton and Tartarius did a double take in surprise.

"What?" they exclaimed in unison.

"Oh yes," chuckled the Greensmith. "The great secret that has shamed Faoster and even the Goblin Knight is unaware of. The goblins of the Wastes are fully intelligent. The Head Chef and Emerald Mage need to personally go up there and raid their territory to consistently remind them of their power. They even kidnap some for use in their experiments. And you want to know the last secret?

The Greensmith's eyes went wide like saucers.

"Kalastraad is alive and the one leading them."