Another six months had passed since the ambush, since then I’d practically become the chief’s son. Now that I think of it, he could’ve been my actual father considering how goblin breeding happens, but that's beside the point.

Apparently my conduct during the ambush impressed him, so he was giving me more training the others. He drilled me on everything from combat, to tracking, to torture. He was practically grooming me to be his successor.

In that half year my physique changed rapidly. In the span of a few weeks I’d grown almost twice as tall, which alarmed the tribe. Apparently goblins aren’t supposed to grow after their first year. There were very few exceptions to this rule, one being a rare defect that sometimes appears in newborn goblins.

Very rarely, when a child bearer only births a single newborn, that newborn is gifted with unusual physical prowess. Many goblins theorized that all the strength from the goblin seed concentrates into one child rather than many. They were correct, in a sense.

I'd learn later from a scholar that this phenomena is a result of mana concentration. The den's breeding chamber was most likely located near an underground mana vein and my mother had absorbed an excess amount of the stuff. Mana, being another form of energy, fed into my development inside the womb.

The more I learn about mana, the more likely it seems that my unusual psyche also resulted from this.

Other than size, my proportions had evened out somewhat, slightly resembling a human’s now; though my arms were still noticeably longer than my legs and I still had a slight hunch. My face, however, was still as monstrous as ever.

As a result of the chief’s training I was practically brimming with muscle. The longer reach and stronger muscles gave me an almost oppressive advantage against unskilled humans, the only ones that gave me trouble were the guards.

Some larger merchant caravans hired mercenaries to protect their wares. These humans were better armed and were experienced in combat, making them an actual threat. A single guard could take on three, maybe four goblins alone.

I’d grown to the point where I could beat one with confidence, and two if I was lucky.

Another skill I’d learned was mimicry. As goblins amass more wisdom they have the tendency to become more literate. Some elder goblins could even speak the tongue of humans.

Maybe it was because I was constantly exposed to human language during ambushes, but I’d learned this skill remarkably quickly. This was a useful skill as it could be used to lure humans into an ambush.

I had two reasons for participating in so many ambushes. The first was that frankly, there wasn’t much else to do; boredom was the worst enemy for a goblin. The second was that I was preparing to leave the tribe.

I knew the time was coming, after all I’d learned almost everything that there was to learn from that place. I didn’t have a particular destination in mind, I just knew that I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life with goblins.

As a result of the dozens of ambushes I’d participated in I’d looted some decent gear. Although most goblins went into battle with nothing but loincloths (I still don’t understand why) a certain number of goblins looted armors from their victims.

The problem was that all the armor they looted was made for humans, so they could really only recycle things like leather and mail in order to make armors that fit them.

But since I had more or less that same body shape as a human it wasn’t a problem. This allowed me to wear armor that far surpassed the rest of the tribe’s.

A full breastplate encased a majority of my torso and steel greaves and vambraces protected my forearms and shins. Beneath it all was a mail coat that reached my knees.

The only part of my body that wasn’t protected was my head. Unfortunately my long ears and strangely shaped noggin meant that no regular helm would fit on me.

Of course I wanted a helm to protect my skull but other than that I just really wanted to hide my ears.

Long, pointed ears are a characteristic of goblins so it made sense that I’d want to hide them. I’d even considered cutting them off before.

I was cleaning my equipment when the chief walked into the main room with a smile on his face. He cleared his throat to get everyone’s attention,

“Yesterday our patrol team found a village not too far from here and after a little investigating...it seems like it has no guards.”

The eyes of all the older goblins widened as nasty smiles spreaded across their faces.

“I think that most of you can tell what I’m getting at.”

He raised both his hands into the air as if to rally his brethren,

“My kin, the time is ripe for a raid!”

The cavern erupted into cheers, goblins began dancing around the room, embracing one another.

Raids were a rarity that only occurred once every few years or so. During a raid, a goblin horde invades a nearby village or hamlet in search of loot, food, and women. This unsurprisingly entitles plenty of killing.

Whilst the commotion was still going on the chief shook his fist in the air, many others followed.

“Sharpen your blades and brandish your clubs, we leave at dusk!”

Everyone’s yells blended into a collective roar of eagerness. Most immediately began preparing their gear, me included.

This was a chance to try out a concept that I’d been playing with.

During battles I found that blunt weapons weren't as fear inducing as sharp ones are. Although a blunt weapon can break bone more easily, they don’t easily draw blood unless you split the skull.

Blood can be used as a powerful psychological weapon. The rush of battle often allows people to forget about their wounds, especially ones they can’t see. The appearance of their own blood, however, more often than not makes people panic. This is even more true for humans that aren't battle tested.

For this reason I hammered long iron spikes into the bashing end of my club. They were actually just nails I’d pillaged from a blacksmith’s wagon, but they’d work just fine.

Other than the fear factor this also meant that piercing softer armor would be easier. The best a normal villager would have would be some gambeson or mail, so this was ideal.

After I modified my weapon I continued to maintain my armor, working out the dents in the plates of steel. By the time I'd finished it was already dusk.

We lined up at the entrance of the cave. Everyone was bringing their favorite weapons and best armors, wanting to show their best for this once a year festivity.

The chief turned around to address us,

"For many of you, this will be your first raid. I only want to say one thing to you. Kill when you want, take what you want, breed with whatever you want, this is a time to let your desires run wild!"

The other goblins nodded in agreement as the greenhorns fidgeted in excitement.

Somehow I was growing excited too. It was impossible not to in this situation.

Led by the chief, we matched out of the cave and into the night.

I didn't yet know that this raid would lead to some of the happiest moments in my life.