The game [Four Realms] enjoys moderate success in the indie video game scene.

It's an open world character leveling game with turn-based combat, in the style of the JRPG. Canonically, the player character is the player themself after being reincarnated into a fantasy world. Though, for an audience insert character, Laurus has a surprising amount of commentary and dialogue.

There are some official tie-in comics, the most recent one being [Don't mind me, I'm just a mob!], which chronicles the adventurers of Rudy, a regular Japanese highschooler reincarnated into the world of [Four Realms]. Unfortunately [Don't Mind Me, I'm Just a Mob] has hit an unexpected hiatus and might be discontinued all together. However, fans of the series can still keep themselves occupied with [Magic Robot Fantasy], about a mech-obsessed Japanese highschooler reincarnating as the son of a nobleman and modernizing his family's army with magical robot suits, and with the still ongoing [The Reaper of Darkness Never Wants to Die Again] about a Japanese shut-in reincarnating alongside all his highschool classmates and using dark magic to get back at his bullies.

Observant readers might have spotted a trend with the stories set in this universe. The "isekai" (Japanese for 'new world') premise seems to be a favorite of the author. Fans have speculated that some of his earlier works might very well be taking place in the [Four Realms] world. The web novel [I won't accept my destiny as the villainous Duke's daughter], features a reincarnator being cast into the life of Beatrice von Dichtershire, a romantic rival of a high society love story. She rejects this role rather early on and instead spends most of the story killing progressively more powerful monsters. The people she meets and the places she visits share a striking resemblance to those in the game.

There is even a monster slaying adventurer called Beatrice featured in [Four Realms]. Yet, a few things seem off. If the people Beatrice meets were really the very same the player does in [Four Realms], you'd think they'd mention the group of heroes out there saving the world. But Beatrice never encounters any suggestion that heroes or reincarnators other than herself exist in her world.

Perhaps we can chalk it up to reused ideas.

One element that's a constant between the worlds of [I won't accept my destiny as the villainous Duke's daughter] and [Four Realms] is the ruins of the Goblin King's palace. In the middle of the forest, out of the way of regular people and even wandering monster slayers stand the collapsed foundations of a sprawling stone citadel. Beatrice briefly explores the labyrinth, and so can the player character of [Four Realms] if they want to find a secret item that's critical for achieving the true ending. The murals and mosaics there hint at a much deeper history than we know, they show a world in which both goblins and humans were under the rule of a cruel and horrendously fat monstrous humanoid.

The lore behind this encounter is no mystery. [Four Realms] itself directly states that the title of Demon King has been held by various monsters and villains over the generation. The ruins are what remains of an age where the goblin king had obtained that title.

It can even be speculated that this is the cause for the sorry state the characters in the series encounter goblin kind in. A villain can not wield the power of demonkind without embracing pure evil, meaning they have to betray any constructive purposes they might have sought that power for in the first place. The goblin king may have sought to become Demon King in order to protect his subjects or increase their status, but once he had become fully corrupted they were nothing to him but a resource. The higher goblinoids such as hobgoblins and ogres were annihilated in endless war against life itself, and the court of the king's palace became filled with only demons. When the Demon King was once again defeated the demons slunk back into the depths and all that remained of the goblin kingdom were smatterings of savage tribes with no knowledge of their history.

"If this goes on, you'll become the demon king." Second unhelpfully exposited.

"If this goes on, I'll become royally pissed off." Scratch struggled against the ropes.

Second's ragtag group of followers consisted of almost two dozen displaced goblin orphans. They had only half understood the cause of his concern, but he projected a leader-like confidence, and they were willing to follow him.

Scratch's immediate backup consisted of a single windwolf, who had gotten constricted in the same trap as him and was similarly unable to move.

It took nearly all of the goblins to hold the ropes in place that kept the prisoners suspended. The rest were poised to kill him, but Second was hesitant to make the first strike.

"We said you'd lead us, because you'd help us. Were you only pretending? Are we tools to you?"

Scratch sighed. "Look... tell me what you want. Food? Women?"

Second teared up a bit, still holding on to his threatening spear, "I want you to talk to me. Answer my questions like you would anybody else, like I matter to you."

"Hey! Hey... what is this about?"

"You made us dig into the cave, and you decide who gets to live into the colonies. They say you're never gonna be done, they say you want to have the homes of the humans next. Is that true?"

"Don't you?"

"IS THAT TRUE!?"

"YES GODDAMMIT!" Scratch wriggled angrily. "Of course it's true! Everybody does! I saw the city of Eston from the water the other day, it was like a glittering jewel, I need it for myself..." For a second he was lost in a reverie of avarice. "It's the human condition to always want more."

"Not me!" Second lowered his weapon and put his hand on his chest. "It's not my condition. I wanted us to live together and be happy."

"So? Aren't we?"

The younger goblin stomped the ground. "No! First, Teeth, and Yeller are dead! Dumb and Slow! Fyro and Mac! And you don't care! You have the humans that killed them live with us. And you've started a new family... with your hobgoblins."

Scratch was quiet. "So you hate the kids now?"

"No. This is for them too."

The reasoning wasn't exactly clear and he got a questioning look.

Still hesitant to make the kill, he explained. "You're gonna forget about them, I know you will. Once you have your city your Promise will just be some used up piece of runoff to you. Because you're turning into the demon king."

"Get this thing out of-" Scratch tried to slap the menacing point away from his face, but he was too constricted. He could move his wrist but not his arm, the lightning gauntlet twisted free of the ropes. "Listen... somebody has clearly been putting thoughts in your head. I don't know what a demon king is, but it's not me. Do I look like a demon to you?"

"My next question." Second said, "and you're gonna answer it."

Scratch resigned himself. "Yeah yeah."

"Who can die for you to control everything?"

"What?"

The younger brother shook his weapon. "You know what. How many goblins have to be killed by fairies and knights, and adventurers? Who of us are just disposable to you?"

"Not you."

"No. But they are, aren't they?" He gestured to the orphans surrounding him.

Scratch's expression went much colder. A guttural grunting voice gargled up from the back of his throat. "I despise it when you get like this."

"I'm not-"

"Haven't I taught you enough not to get sentimental about bottom feeders? Yeah, I discriminate, I care more about our family than about some randos in the woods. I think that's reasonable, and I think it's reasonable to expect you do the same. Car Less. Goddammit." He groaned. "That part of you... that hot and cold running blood of you... that's your enemy Second. More than any monster or elf, it wants to kill you."

Second didn't want to hear it, he was steeling himself for the kill.

"What's your plan after this?" Scratch asked.

"I kill you. Lydia kills me. The humans kill Lydia. The goblins go back to how they were before us."

"Like it was before... and this is preferable to the demon king scenario."

"Yes."

Scratch suppressed a joyless laugh. "Tell me at least. If I gotta keel over it. Tell me what you were told."

Second lifted his weapon, thought it over, and then walked up to him to whisper in his ear.

As he did, he left the immediate vicinity of his followers.

Scratch looked at him coldly as he tossed a mote of elemental lightning over his head. The electricity burst outward after hitting the leaves between their feet, an upwards over their bodies, and smoked their insides. They were dead before they hit the floor.

Second was too shocked to even turn around.

The more spread out survivors began to yell, as they no longer had the strength to keep the wind wolf in place.

Wendy escaped from the ropes with a sudden burst of action and growled intimidatingly. They let go of their ropes and Scratch fell down as well.

"This close!" Scratch got up and gestured with the gauntlet as he held Second's in place with the other arm. "I was this close to having to kill you too."

Wendy stood around them to fend off the others, but they were not in a combative mood after the display of magic.

"What were you thi-" Scratch huffed. The manabelt had taken a lot of blood from him just for that one attack. He leaned against the wolf's black fur. "We're going home."

The alchemist's apprentice was getting popular now.

He had no idea there were this many young adults in his own city.

Apprentices, heirs, adventurers, from social circles that never touched with his own, let alone overlapped.

The little barn provided by the Thieves' Guild as a meeting spot wasn't so inconspicuous anymore with three dozen party goers.

It was just the effect of the modified bitter crimson... of sweet crimson. People wanted to dance, and hug (more than hug sometimes), and drink.

Somebody had dragged a set of instruments in there and now there was music all the time.

But the goblin had been wrong. Conspicuousness had only been good for business.

A young knight had been sent round to inspect the ruckus, but it was not like she smelled a whiff of sweet crimson and then put him in shackles.

She had no idea of its significance and had even accepted a vial, after confirming that it wasn't alcoholic.

Now she was here for the third day, slow dancing with a colleague.

No no, the goblin didn't know what it was talking about. There would be no "dealers" on street corners, the customers were coming to him. And he didn't need to know about the profit margin either. Since the sale of sweet crimson had exceeded expectations by so much, it would be perfectly reasonable to spend some of it before calculating the investor's percentage.

That was the sort of thing going through his head at he stood behind the bar, slipping the occasional silver coin from the counter into his coin purse, rather than the treasury.

Even having justified the small embezzlement in his head, he felt tremendously called out when a male voice coughed behind him to announce its presence. "Got a minute?"

The young man's name was George, he was a stable boy. And, as the apprentice now knew, he was an associate of the thieves' guild. He wasn't here to audit his finances.

"Would you like anything to drink?"

"I want you to meet me outside." It sounded vaguely threatening.

"W-what if I'm busy?"

"Make some time. I don't want us to make a mess of your place either." Now it sounded overtly threatening.

-

Four well build men were waiting just out of earshot of the party to have their talk with the owner.

They were disguising their true business rather transparently with unlit cigarettes.

Seeing their bartender be led away, one of his new friends called out half concerned. "Hey? Everything okay?"

"Everything okay!" George answered for him, with his hand firmly gripping his shoulder.

The buzz was too strong to really work up a worry, so the apprentice was led to the middle of the smoking circle without protest.

"You're with Mabel's side right?" George asked in a friendly tone. "I knew her sister."

"S-sure."

"How long have you been moving inventory for the guild? You like it?"

"Just a week..."

The conversation wasn't warming up, so the stable boy went straight to business. "Listen, do you know what the four branches of the guild are? Why we have them?"

The apprentice looked around at the burly men cracking their knuckles. "I'm with Mabel's side though..."

George gave a tortured smile, the mark wasn't making it easy. "You're with Mabel, who took over smuggling from Fyro. But there's also Lacrima, you know, the witch? She owns the safe houses and clean up. The Liege has his shadow bandits, and Mac has the casino. So nobody..." he moved his head down to be able to look him directly in the eyes "...competes with anybody else. Either you act on behalf of a leader, and you stay in their branch, or you don't act at all. You get it, right?"

"What's all of this have to do with me? I'm not... I mean it's barely even thieves' guild business."

"It's a night club." One of the men grunted.

"Mac thinks all of this," Mac gestured broadly at the barn, "would be much more at home around the roulette. In fact it's been leading people away from the roulette. We don't want that kind of competition, do we?"

Two men punched the palms of their hand.

"I... It's not up to me," the apprentice invented, "I work for Barbara... and the goblin."

George nodded, touching one of his friends' upper arm to calm him down. "You see a future with those two? You know they've pressured us for month after month to get an adventurers' guild guildmaster on our payroll." He laughed. "Who has that power!? They're desperate because everybody out there wants to destroy them. The adventurers, the knights... according to the rumors there's enemies in the witchwood as well."

The apprentice looked around and leaned in. "But can I just switch sides? Is that allowed?"

George winked. "The smugglers about to be destroyed, Lacrima is in hiding and can't control her enterprise anymore, very soon the old rules won't apply anymore. Bet on the right horse."

It was starting to sound familiar. Barbara had said something like that too right before she disappeared.

Perhaps he could hedge his bets and stay good with Mac without committing.

"What do you want me to do?"

George patted his shoulder. "How about you and I have a nice chat with the boss next month. I'm sure he'll know what to do."

Trevor received his own resting place and ribbon at the mourning tree.

Second received house arrest in the forge and was not allowed up on the surface again.

Youthere was found two days later. The insurgents had stabbed him in the neck and buried him in an old pit trap under half a ton of rocks.

"But," he had commented joyously, "it takes more than that to destroy the beautiful lady Harkness' dreams of pleasure."

"Listen," Scratch groaned. He was completely drained physically and emotionally. He was lying on his couch with his eyes closed when commanding the demon, "I know you've conspired to make me kill my brother..."

"Master... I-"

"But I need your expertise. The enemy is building a wall around our home... make them go away. That's how you make it up to me."

"Then... I have the command over the troops?" Youthere's teeth flashed maliciously.

It was clear that the goblin patriarch was in no position to lead anybody himself. He was still recuperating from overuse of his demonic parasite.

Scratch opened his baggy eyes just to give him an annoyed look. "No. Of course not. Lydia has the command, she gets the final say. You follow."

"...As you wish."

The demon could see his gamble had backfired. Scratch had caught on to him having a hidden agenda of some persuasion, and the family as a whole resented him for causing trouble. But on the other hand, the opposing voice in his master's ear had been banished, and he was still there.

He gave Lydia Harkness a glance, they were both there to speak with Scratch, but she had elected to ignore him. For a woman he was specifically sculpted to seduce, she sure was difficult.

-

After the Pyrrhic victory against the first adventurer base, the family had retreated back to the Promise, and the adventurers had consolidated more control over the territory.

The smuggling caravan had no passage, and normal culling excursions were reaching into the favored inner colonies now.

The prevailing attitude was that this was war, and wartime practices were resurrected. Including the conscription of goblins from the colonies and the use of an armored infantry.

Lydia Harkness was to take control of a new goblin legion, even larger and carrying more steel than the one fielded against the knight army.

"I'm giving you Youthere for this." Scratch told her.

"I don't believe he's to be trusted." She said.

"Don't trust him. Just use him."

She shifted uncomfortably in her saddle. "Will the demon stop me from..."

"Are you scared you'll lose another?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Good. Be scared, the kids can't be, so they need you to be scared for all of them."

She nodded solemnly. "If I get my hands on-"

"Hey!" He interrupted. "We said we weren't going to do this."

"Do what?"

"When we first started out, you swore you'd kill your own children if they'd threaten humans."

She gave a sad smile. "That was the old me. You changed me... I-"

"No. This and that are exactly the same. Righteous anger is poor counsel. I'm giving you the demon."

"Right."

The dining table once again became the war room of the goblin nation.

The same map that had served to plan out the defense against the looming fairy threat now provided the playmat for plotting the march against the culling.

"Our top intelligence priority has been to track the location of the new guildmaster, Linel." She explained, "we can't afford to be surprised when facing a rank B adventurer. In the past we kept to quick lightning operations. But that is no longer an option."

The only other person in the room was the demon, but she tried not looking at him while she spoke.

His appearance was a reflection of the worst parts of herself, that had ruined her life.

If she had to listen to his input, she'd rather do it between the two of them, so that her children didn't have to see him make her sweat.

"Though I am sure that, as a knight, you are confident in your battlefield tactics." He said sweetly, "I believe that strategy, not tactics, is what will be the deciding factor here."

She didn't look at him and showed no emotion. "What's the difference?"

"Tactics concerns the specifics of battle, strategy concerns which battles to fight. For instance... say we take the hidden village of the elves."

Despite her insistence on stoicism this elicited a response.

"Enchanted bows are not homespun handywork," Youthere continued, "they require ancient bowyers wielding secret arts. Capture these, and the power of the elves will dry up. Like a river without a spring!"

Now she did look him in the eyes. "If you know where the hidden village is. Something kept secret for a thousand years-"

"Oh I do not know. But it should be easy to find out, no? After all, these elves have not fielded warriors for a thousand years, until now. They have not been captured as prisoners of war, until now. They have not been exposed to the threat of true demonic malice... until now."

A chill ran up her spine. "We've interrogated them. They'd die before telling us."

He stared at her through his hair, an unnatural smile distorting his human disguise. "Scratch has so far denied me access to the prisoners. But perhaps today... I can expose them to torture no mortal mind can conceive of, until they beg to be allowed to die."

She looked away, but she could still feel his stare. "We have our strategy. The army takes the bases, we negotiate peace in exchange for human hostages. Nobody has to fight the guildmaster. And nobody has to... do *that*."

He clicked his tongue as she positioned the small wood carvings representing the troops.

"Just tell me. What you think of this."

And so only tactical advice was given.

Outside, a sea of metal was gathering.

The unarmored skirmishers still outnumbered the steel clad hoplites by about four to one, but the army as a whole had grown tremendously over the past half year and even the goblins that could afford to go head to toe in protective gear were enough to fill up the whole Promise. And the unarmored, which had come from farther away, had created numerous tented villages on the surrounding farmland.

It was difficult for human denizens to move around in the street with the crowd of short metal snowmen filling up every available space, so they looked on from the windows of their homes and workshops as the procession went by.

The 'tower', the elevated platform that had started out as a lookout, was once again a podium, as the family used it to inform and entertain the conscripts while they waited to set out.

Currently Ada had the voice amplifying spellrod and was using it to whip them into a frenzy over the evils of humanity.

"I look at all the faces here, and I don't see anybody that hasn't lost a brother. I have lost two brothers. Do you think they're satisfied with two brothers? No! They're coming for all of you, and all of your friends!"

It wasn't exactly untrue, but it wasn't the tone either of her parents would have used. It led to a lot of clanging of metal and angry shouting.

Between the ocean of rusty steel sat a sad troll.

Bree was wearing her enormous metal gauntlets, now topped off with a wide brimmed metal hat and chainmail over the upper half of her torso.

Even sitting down she towered above the goblins around her, but she didn't match the heights of their energy.

When Lydia Harkness was done with her strategy meeting she went to meet her adoptive troll daughter before anybody else.

Not slowed down by the crowded streets she simply appeared beside her. "How is the troll den?"

"Oh. It's... fine."

She had been involved with a scecret project taking place all the way down where the forge connected to the underworld, but she couldn't be less enthused about it now.

"We're doing this to protect places like yours." Lydia whispered to her.

"If I- If I hadn't been making a garden, if I'd been fighting too, maybe he wouldn't have died."

"You shouldn't think like that."

"I don't want to! So from now on, I have to be part of the fight." The troll made a huge clenched fist with her steel gauntlet.

The mother then took her daughter's place on the podium. She stroked her hair and took the spell rod.

She held up three fingers. "Three days. We have three days to march to the edge of the territory. To take back the colonies. And to fortify. It takes three days for the adventurers' guild to notice and respond to our meeting here. They will send their strongest warriors and we must be ready once they're here. We set out today. Each of you has been assigned to a division, if you could each follow the..."

She went on to give exact orders for marching formations.

The goblins were obedient. Lacking in worldly experience they usually did whatever everybody else seemed to be doing, and this woman seemed to be in charge.

-

Listening in on the speech was a less callow individual.

Linel had gone through considerable effort making it past the goblin camps without being noticed.

He could have slain them easily, but he did not want to cause a ruckus and have the leaders flee in the commotion. His target was right here.

He jumped down from the simple wall into the goblin village to announce his presence "HARKNESS!!" He shouted, amplifying his voice like she had.

"Shhh!" Several goblins beside him shushed him like he was a heckler.

He was stunned for a second at the goblins' lack of surprise at a human in their midst. But his attention returned to the brood knight when she stopped talking and looked at him.

"The Liege sends his regards!" He roared and stuck his empty hand up in the sky.

From out of the crowd an armored troll jumped up and bounded towards him, roaring and bearing her teeth.

But she was thrown off when a bolt of lightning crashed from the sky and into his hand.

A shockwave threw up dirt and gravel, knocked over the goblin horde, and caused the buildings to shake on their foundations.

Linel emerged unharmed, and in his outstretched hand now rested an angular guitar.

Its design was reminiscent of the lightning that had brought it forth, with points and zigzags in its body. It was too flat for a sound box, but when he struck a chord it made sound anyway. It gave off a distorted but harmonious hum.

"A little dirge for your vile spawn!" He cackled, and stuck out his tongue.

A fast paced melody rang through the air as he began strumming the magical weapon.

Bree threw a goblin out of her way and smashed the ground with her fists.

The crowd of steel began to shake and bump into each other.

Even all the way on stage the hobgoblins clutched their heads and lowered themselves to the ground.

"They're not going to help you." He said while playing.

He began to walk towars her and the subhumans moved out of its path.

Lydia Harkness stood still, like a wide-eyed doe. She had no response.

Summon Weapon

Class: Bard or Duelist

Level: C

Adventurers that have mastered this ability are able to conjure a weapon out of nothingness. Summoned weapons are created from magical energies and are most attuned to the owner's magic. Upon mastery of the technique, the adventurer will be able to equip a medium quality weapon with all the qualities of an infused instrument. Upon honing the technique, the adventurer can create a more personalized and higher quality weapon.

World renowned duelists have wielded summoned weapons that matched ancient artefacts in power.