“There’s something else, Your Highness. I apologize for only bringing this up now.”

General Jiten said as he turned to Prince Amir. His own testimony had been joined with others to confirm the cause of the explosions, although the actual method still was unknown. It was a magic of some kind, likely a ritual that used their bones as catalysts, but the specifics were largely unknown.

“What is it, General?”

“I was interrogating Otto Rembert when the explosions happened. Not much information was extracted from him during the interrogations, but once he felt his death was imminent he loosened his tongue.”

The General remembered the moment when the Feld-Ehian commander changed his attitude. It must have been the exact moment when he felt the ritual that would take his life activate.

“Otto Rembert admitted that this attack was planned and supervised by the Strategos of Feld-Ehia, Alexandra Polgár herself.”

The reactions across the table were as expected from anyone who had known the terror that woman could bring about when in command of an army. The faces of everyone turned serious and their gazes sharpened as if they were in the middle of a battlefield. Good, the General thought, for the machinations of the Strategos had turned Lauhr city into a battlefield already and so it should be treated as such.

“Is she nearby?”

The Elder from the Assembly of Thaliss spoke in an even tone. The General of Sahbadia shook his head.

“It’s uncertain. Otto Rembert didn’t elaborate, but I think she is unlikely to be in this area. If she had moved, then our agents would have known.”

The others nodded, less alarmed but still on edge. Kareb cleared his throat.

“So she might not be here, but is still watching.”

The Hunter spoke while clenching and unclenching the fingers of his left arm, which had been restored by the magic of that mysterious young man much like Jiten’s own arm and leg. If His Highness’ words were to be believed, the General had been almost a dead man, little more than scorched flesh and broken bones, when Ethan Bhreg bathed the city in golden light. That was a debt owed, and Jiten would remember it for the rest of his life.

“Indeed. We must proceed with caution. Our priorities should be to catch the spies, both to prevent the leak of information and to extract it from them, also we must find a way to contact with the northern troops. His Majesty should also be informed of the situation as soon as possible.”

Jiten spoke and everyone on the table agreed. They could not face this threat alone, if a fight against more troops from Feld-Ehia was to happen, then they would need the Sahbadian Army.

They could only pray that the closest garrison was in good condition to help.

Larin Maprak stretched his body, testing his mobility and flexibility as he finished gearing up. There was no doubt, he was in perfect condition right now.

It was a bit disconcerting, how scars that had been on his body and those of his companions for decades were now gone as if they had been an illusion. Whatever that light had been, it had restored him to peak condition and handled all wounds, old and new, leaving no trace of injury behind.

There would be worth in investigating such an incident, but that was not his duty and so he would not take risks for such a thing.

He turned to look at his two clansmen, Iris and Alajos, who had rescued him from imprisonment. Iris Maprak’s shoulder-length brown hair was styled into multiple braids and there was a carefree smile on her tanned face as she finished a bit of beef jerky, her bright green eyes shone with interest as she inspected a magic artifact; Larin was certain that her skin looked a bit more smooth than he remembered. Near the window on the other side of the room, Alajos sat on a wooden chair as he looked at the outside; the hood that covered his head before and the cloth that usually hid his lower face were pulled down, revealing short black hair and brown deep-set eyes on a pale face; it was a bit weird to see his friend and cousin without the old scar he had received on his face during his teenage years, but definitely a good thing.

Larin had been captured after the Artifact that had enabled them to disrupt the function of the city wards, the Urn of Rupture, had malfunctioned and exploded. Upon realizing that his Skills were not working properly, Larin had taken the decision to inform his torturers where to find the Beast-alluring Incense within the city. Since his team wasn’t made up of idiots, the location was under constant vigilance, the presence of the Watch had been taken for the message that it had been intended: Larin had been caught but was still alive.

So his clansmen had mounted the rescue operation afterward, because unfortunately the Battalion had been obliterated and the beast horde was taken away by a teenager using an even stronger bait that their incense.

Plenty of unknown variables had emerged and unexpected situations happened. The best course of action would then be to retreat, and they had just the Artifact for that. They had recovered it from the Watch barracks along with Larin’s possessions during the rescue operation.

“Are you sure it will work?”

Alajos Maprak dubiously said as he turned his head towards Iris, who was holding an ornamental black-and-yellow box with a ruby embedded on the top taking the eerie shape of a staring eye. It was the Artifact that had covered the battalion sent here with a layer of invisibility, Larin knew it as ‘the Eyelid of Concealment’ but Iris had given him an earful about proper names of Artifacts and how this thing was supposed to be called La-Nazar and apparently was one of a very special breed of magical objects that involved protections and hiding.

“It will work, Alajos. It still has enough energy to last us for many hours, since it will only be covering a small group.”

Iris spoke with discontent. She didn’t like to be doubted in matters of magic; while she enjoyed discussing those topics and loved to show her work, she didn’t like it when people cast doubt to her judgement or her skills.

“It didn’t seem to work for Rembert’s battalion, though.”

Alajos replied without missing a beat, still unconvinced about the efficiency of the Artifact. Larin thought that his point was valid, if that Artifact had stopped working before the intended time, it could do the same to them and leave them exposed without any warning at the worst possible time.

“We still don’t know what happened. There’s no damage in the Artifact, so they might have simply turned it off.”

Iris replied, a tad defensively. She wasn’t sure about what had made the battalion reveal their presence before being in proper position, but she was certain the blame wasn’t in the magical object.

Alajos gave her a look that showed he was highly skeptical about that explanation but decided to not pester her again about it. Instead, Larin saw him turn his gaze towards him.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Larin answered as he picked up a cloak and tightened it on his shoulders. They could wait longer, he knew, and maybe take the risk to check for news around the city, even take advantage of this Artifact to attempt an assassination on the prince that had stopped their plan. But that would be an unnecessary thing, their priority would be getting out of Lauhr and report back to their superiors.

The concealment Artifact would be their way out. By the time the Sun was down they would reach the city of Ahfer in the west, they had the necessary Skills to make the journey despite being on foot, then they would find transport to Feld-Ehia before the tensions on the borders increase.

Having taken everything that they needed, Alajos opened the window and Iris activated the Artifact and as a dark lid covered the ruby eye Larin felt a soft ethereal mantle covering his body.

Out they went, first onto the streets and then beyond the city walls, like invisible and silent wafts of wind rolling over the desert sands.

Deep underground within the domains of Likia Kingdom. On a series of tunnels where a certain tribe of Goblins made their home.

The Blaze Cave Tribe wasn’t the strongest tribe in the Kingdom, not by far, but they had a good number and worked well together. They had a strong leader, Feneh, a red Hobgoblin with the Gift of Fire, which in turn made their Shamans more powerful and adept in using flames.

They also had a tactician, a smart Goblin named Kar who made plans and coordinated the work of the Tribe. It was this tactician who was now walking with firm steps through the tunnels.

There were gazes directed to him, noises of surprise and celebration, teasing and joking by some of the Goblins who were drinking and smoking some of the stuff stolen from merchants.

They recognized him and immediately noticed the change in him. Because up until the night before Kar had been a strong Goblin, but now he had transformed into a Hobgoblin, and as such was truly a member of their elite in every aspect. His strength must have surely soared, too.

Kar walked with purpose, his destination was the chamber of their Chieftain. A pair of big Hobs sat near the entrance, the area around was illuminated by glowing moss.

“Oh? Finally turn Hob?”

One of the tall and fat Hobgoblins guarding Feneh’s chambers greeted Kar with a laugh. The other had taken a bit to recognize him and was now grinning too.

“About time, Chieftain will be happy.”

“Aye. Maybe we’ll get to eat and drink good stuff tonight.”

Kar approached and smiled at them. He was feeling elated, for more reasons than one. He nodded towards the entrance to the room.

“Lots of reasons to celebrate. Is Chieftain awake?”

The two guards nodded and signaled for him to go on. Kar thanked them and strode into the room.

The Chieftain of the Blaze Cave Tribe had a nice and big room, the biggest personal chamber in the whole system of tunnels that made up their private territory. Feneh wasn’t given to keeping many riches, but he kept some weapons, furniture, and food inside his room.

Kar found his leader and friend lazily lounging on a hammock as he ate a bit of fruit, long bandages covered his torso and shoulder, the Ice Lightning of that Mage that flew over the walls of Buri City had caused a big wound to Feneh, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

Feneh raised his head and opened his eyes wide as he looked at Kar. Then he laughed, happily and boisterously. The Chieftain jumped from his hammock and gave Kar a hard hug with a few painful slaps on the back.

“So you are now a Hob! Good, good! You grow stronger, our tribe grows stronger. Do you get smarter? Is that even possible? Come, let’s sit.”

Feneh happily sat on the ground and shared some of his fruits with Kar, who took them and hungrily bit at one. Only after he had finished it did Kar speak again.

“Feneh, I came to tell you something.”

The red Goblin rose an eyebrow and scratched his head.

“Going to challenge for the position of Chieftain already? Urgh, can’t you wait ‘til I’m healed? Can’t give you a good fight like this.”

In response, Kar threw one of his fruits at Feneh’s face. The grinning red Hob snatched it from the air and took a bite. Kar sighed.

“We talked about this already. You lead, I plan. You are the muscle to keep the Tribe in line and I’m the brain that makes sure we don’t die stupidly.”

“Right…”

Feneh answered, sounding utterly unconvinced, he was someone who thought that the person making the plans should be the one giving orders, on account of the plans being obeyed. But they had already decided this years ago and had worked fine until now. Strength was the way Goblin Tribes worked and you needed strength to make others follow you. Maybe one day their positions would change, but for now Feneh was Chieftain and Kar was Tactician.

“Then what you want to talk about? Another plan?”

“Not really. We already did enough since you got insistent on testing your new strength on Buri. We should stay quiet for a while to avoid being hunted down.”

Kar replied as he ate more of the fruits. The attack on Buri city had been made on Feneh’s insistence, arguing he wanted to test his recently grown strength. Usually, Kar could have convinced him to not do it, but Feneh had been a bit drunk and boasted of his strength in front of other Hobs of the Tribe and the Shamans, so Kar had to simply go along with it and make a plan that would not get them killed.

“Last night, I met a strange group of people when I was looking for something to eat. One man, a woman, and a girl. Humans, apparently, but different from any I have ever met. They were friendly to Goblins, for starters.”

Kar recalled his meeting with those three strange people, it felt like a dream, even now. But the objects on his bag were proof of the reality. And his recent transformation told him that it had all been real.

“Friendly to Goblins?”

Feneh incredulously commented, repeating the words slowly as if tasting new food. Kar nodded firmly.

“I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it myself. The man even spoke in our tongue, seemed even more fluent than a Shaman.”

“Now that’s quite impressive. What did they do then?”

“That’s what I want to tell you about. You see, that man was a Sage, immeasurably wise and powerful. He told me things I didn’t even imagine and sent me back with proof of his claim. It’s thanks to him that I became a Hob.”

Kar noticed how Feneh’s eyes were alight with interest and curiosity replaced the initial doubts. He rummaged in his bag and pulled the things he wanted to show Feneh. One black stone tablet, one large scroll made of a strange material that was neither paper nor parchment, and a strange mirror adorned with silver runes.

“What if I told you, there was once a Goblin God?”

The Chieftain sat there, listening with attention to the tale his Tactician narrated. Then he stood and paced around the room, unable to remain still as he heard the tale unfold. Incredulity, amazement, outrage, sadness, happiness, fascination. A whirlwind of emotions filled the two Hobgoblin as one relived the mystical experience and the other reacted letting out sounds after sounds as he stared at Kar and the three objects he had brought back from his meeting with the strange man named Navin.

Then they were both calm, or as calm as someone burning inside with renewed purpose could be while holding invaluable treasures for their entire species.

It was time for plans, time for preparations.

More importantly, it was time for change.

Deep in the western forests of the Republic of Oeria, where birds flew in the sky and beasts roamed on the ground, multiple plants grew unrestrained, flourishing without being defiled by the hands of humans, elves or beastkins.

On this day, the ground of this forest was covered in blood and corpses.

Swords of steel shattered shields of hides and wood. Spear thrusts charged with Skills pierced green bodies one after the other. Multiple arrows rained down the sky and magic spells blasted apart the Goblins one volley after the other.

They were Adventurers, here to claim rewards and bounty in exchange for the lives of those their Guild considered monsters.

Warriors clad in leathers and armor laughed and unleashed their strength; axe and sword, spear and club, breaking bones and shedding blood over the ground and on themselves. Mighty beastkins with claws and Aura, tearing apart the smaller creatures, predators slaughtering their prey. Mages covered in multicolored robes armed with staves, rings, and books, overwhelming the sorceries of the Shamans. Elves, children of Nature same as Goblins, but born in higher standing to the eyes of society and regarded as superior beings; with skill and grace they kill, murderous their duty, ruthless their proceeding with bow and blade and spell.

Hundreds of Goblins fought in desperation and madness, dying by blade and spell, by trap and dart, by disdain and hate. For they had been judged as not part of the people and so the people had come to erase them.

Some ran and were caught, surrounded as their settlement was, their cries of mercy fell on deaf ears and their shouts of indignation were answered with death.

In the wake of the battle, death and gore covered the ground, smoke and the Adventurers’ victorious cheers rose to the skies. They laughed, tired but content, they have won so their people would be safe. The monsters were dead and they would collect gold for this.

The entirety of the Good Leaf Tribe had been slaughtered, taken by surprise as they lazed under the morning sun. Over 700 Goblins lost their lives in the spans of a single morning by the hands of a group of barely 40 elite Adventurers of A and B ranks.

As they left, a single Goblin child rose from under the rubble and corpses, body still wet with the blood of her mother. Bruise on her head and stab wound on her shoulder, the child stood up. She took in the devastation around, the ashes of what had been her home, and knew this to be the truth of her world. Goblins were hunted, killed and butchered for no more than simply being alive.

She cried, for no other could mourn for the fallen. But in silence, because the shining grim reapers still lurked in the area. Scavenging what she could find, she left in a hurry in a different direction from the one the destroyers had walked away. Every moment counted for survival and soon the beasts of the forest would come to feast on the corpses.

So she walked in silence, tears and blood leaving a small trail behind her, accompanied only by physical pain and emotional grief as her mind replayed the scene over and over, still hearing the dying cries of her tribe.

The nameless goblin walked away, cursing the Adventurers, cursing the world, and cursing her weakness above it all. Her heart was filled with sadness and sorrow.

And relentless, ever-burning hatred.

For one day, she would return this tragedy hundredfold.