???????

During its formation, it had been acted as a seat for anyone who wanted to view one of the most beautiful scenes in the Great forest, but the cliff-side was well past its best now. Right now it was just a large piece of eroded rock covered in natural rubbish. From the cliff-side you could see many things such as the golden setting sun, the army of trees that carried on past the horizon, and now a bustling village filled with little green humanoids. Due to how near the cliff was to the Goblin village, in the past it was swarmed with Goblin children who were fascinated with the view, although those times were gone by now due to how often the cliff had given way, the bloody silhouettes giving clear testament to that. And yet currently lying on its chest on that very cliff-side was a reptilian humanoid, uncaring of the danger it was in.

The reptile was 1.7m tall and had brown, scaled skin all across its body. Plastered atop its chest and legs were soft, cloth armour, which had no practical use other than defence against the wind. However the uselessness of the cloth armour was alleviated by the thick scales over its major joints and chest. Lying next to this reptile was a thick piece of grainy paper, atop it many letters in a weird language. The reptile had already been at this position for the whole day and the paper was nearly full: full of information about the very Goblins below the cliff.

Seeing the paper almost full, the reptile decided that was enough for the day as it placed the paper into a leather bag around its waist before it set off, away from the goblin village. For the first few minutes it ran at a jogging pace, clearly trying to conserve its energy before it began sprinting at all its speed. The sprint rode the reptile past a large clearing about 1km wide, before the reptile once again slowed down to a jog. It was about an hour later when the reptile reached its destination, as what filled its vision was no longer the gloomy greenery but rather countless mud huts with the odd wooden ones.

The first thing anyone would notice about this village was how sombre the atmosphere was, as all whispers were muffled and the reptiles walked with slow, lethargic gaits. No one paid any attention to the scout as it walked in, although this made perfect sense considering how many scouts left and returned to the village in a day. The scout walked slow as it caught its breath, all the while imagining the stories it had heard as a child. There were towns, villages so large that they could no longer be classified as villages anymore, filled with large houses and stone pathways. The people walked with their heads up, relishing in life as the towns offered everything one could desire. The streets lit up at night and the army brought blood-curdling fear to their enemies. It sounded almost like a dream, too good to be true especially when in contrast to this village.

Eventually the scout reached the centre of the village where lay a big dome like building made out of tough wood instead of mud. Inside, the building emanated a rancid odour due to the little care it had been given in the past years. In a few seconds the scout had navigated the building before finding himself in front of a small wooden door, which he knocked on before walking in.

The scout walked inwards to find himself surrounded by stacks of thick pages, filled with writing, covering every possible surface in the room. In the middle of the smallish room was a similar reptilian, albeit smaller, who was furiously writing up something. Searching for his very own page inside his bag, the scout handed it over to the scribe who looked up only then. Seeing the title of the page, the scribe immediately placed it upon another stack of paper.

Each page didn’t contain much information, but that built up, especially when half the pages in the room was dedicated to one subject: Goblins. The rest of the pages were the same, the only difference being that they contained information on the Trolls instead…

Goblins

It had been 3 years since Withil had become Chieftain, and in those 3 years the small village had transformed into a bustling mess of buildings that took up over double the space the old village had. Everywhere you looked you would be met with crowds of Goblins who moved from place to place as they rushed to do their jobs. In the centre of the village was now a large market that divided the village in two, the market filled with several vendors selling from weapons to clothes. There was even blatant endorsement by the village as several arrows on the streets guided you to Absinthe’s herb shop: specialising in healing and poisons.

Just next to the market was the largest building in the whole village, the town hall. It had been built about a year ago, and now acted as the place where all the Goblins would meet when something came up. The town hall was made out of wood, with stone decorating the outside. Inside, it could fit in around 200 goblins and squeeze in 300. The clearing that they had previously used for such purpose was now filled with countless little huts, in order to accommodate the growing population.

The population had sky-rocketed in the past 3 years. In the past, the number had stayed stagnant at around 100 due to the death-rate of Goblins in the Great forest. And yet now the population was well over 500 and close to 600. Of course this had a lot to do with the fact that Goblins had a very large birth rate but it had more to do with how they now lived. In the past they had been cowering at the fear of monsters, while acting as a good snack for any hungry beasts. However ever since Withil’s coronation, they had only increased in power and were only increasing the area they were in control over. The death rate had decreased massively as the Goblins had finally fully accepted the hive mind-frame, rather than a selfish one.

As for the ever-growing army, they had gone from 20 Goblin warriors who were all variants to 200 warriors. Nearly every Goblin was eager to be a warrior as a life of violence was glorified in such a place like the Great forest. Leading the 200 Goblin variants were 19 Goblin high-variants (Goblins who had evolved). Many Goblins had evolved in the past 3 years as the amount of monster they hunted increased, meaning more Goblins were able to forcibly evolve. All this power meant that the Goblin village could now face up a tier-4 monster, although no one wished to fight such a thing for very obvious reasons.

Damon could feel countless needles stabbing into him as he crawled underneath a bush. He now had a layer of fat covering his body, and his skin had only toughened in 3 years, meaning that the needles could only scratch him despite how sharp they were. Right now he was hunting a mid-tier 3, to be more specific his first mid-tier 3 monster.

At first he had been over-joyous at becoming a tier-3 Goblin, although his joy was quickly broken down. This was mainly due to Gregal who not only acted as his trainer, but also as a cruel mentor who would use any mistake he made to illustrate why he was just a sub-par tier 3. Damon felt a strong desire to just run and travel, as he learnt of the world and magic, and yet he knew that he would be hunted down by Gregal within a few days at max. After all that was his record so far!

It didn’t help that the people at the village now glorified him, acting unnatural around him as if he was something they were not allowed to talk to. Gregal might be brutal, but at least he talked normally to Damon.

In his heart, Damon knew that the other Goblins, including his previous leader Withil, now treated him like this as they were both in fear and awe of his status and power as a tier-3 Goblin. On the other hand Damon hated it as he felt like he wasn’t a part of the Goblins anymore, he no longer felt the kinship with them that he once had. On the other hand he felt great fascination for the world as Gregal would often tell him off outside the forest, although Gregal always edged away from why he had been travelling in the first place.

Apparently there were other Goblins outside the forest, and they had once had a great City. Gregal refused to say more than that, but Damon had guessed that he had once been part of that City, before it became just a glorious past to relish in. Other than that, Damon learnt of large towns made out of stone and countless materials, filled with countless items and species. It sounded exactly like the world Damon wanted to go into as he desperately wanted to test his power against them, and yet the fact that he didn’t know the way out of the forest and the looming Gregal behind him always stopped him.

But this was a chance to prove himself, after all he was sure Gregal would allow him to leave if he could kill a peak-tier 3 by himself. In the past 3 years he had been practising on his mana control and on Flaming bombs, and both had come a long way by now. Gregal had also trained him in the way of countless other melee weapons such as sword, axe and hammer, although Damon still preferred his knives.

His musings came to an end as he struggled his way through the last part of the bush before setting his eyes upon the mid-tier 3 monster in question, the bronze Tiger. The bronze tiger looked like a normal big cat other than the striped skin and the long whiskers. Oh and how muscular the monster was, it looked like one foot was enough to crush Damon due to how thick they were. It was around 2.5m long and 1.5m tall, so around the same size as the silverback Bear, but anyone who thought the two would be of similar danger would be in for a deadly surprise.

It was Damon’s luck the tiger was currently sleeping in a small clearing, in between a few bushes that surrounded it. Damon took out a sharp knife as he began to slowly raise his body, trying his best to stay quiet. He could see the tiger’s whiskers moving around, as if disturbed by something, before they were followed by the tiger’s ears twitching. He would have to move fast!

And so he gave stealth to the wind as he shot up, before propelling his knife towards the tiger’s head. The tiger had instinctively twitched, before raising its body from the ground despite how drowsy the tiger felt. Damon’s knife acted as a miracle cure as it stabbed deep into the tiger’s shoulder, the mana making quick work of the skin’s defences, causing countless hormones to be shot to the tiger’s brain as it instantly felt its drowsiness disappear.

In anger the tiger tilted its head before roaring at full force in order to intimidate its foe.

“---aaaaaaRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAWWWWWW-“

The roar was stopped half-way through as another knife quickly slid into tiger’s upper back, followed by one that just managed to embed itself into the tiger’s lower back. Unlike a tier 2, a tier 3 monster could feel mana a lot better with particular clarity and the tiger quickly noticed how the knives had mana remaining in them, despite the fact that they were no longer in flight. This meant that their role in the fight hadn’t finished…

Knowing this the tiger immediately leapt at Damon, unwilling to let him carry on this slaughter. Damon was caught half-in surprise as he had hoped the tiger would just go down, although he responded within seconds as he turned around before jumping away. He would have dodged the tiger as well, was it not for the fact that the tiger caught the cloth armour he was wearing with its claw, before flinging him backwards.

Damon’s mind seemed to know that he was in deep shit as his battle instincts took over, rolling backwards before the tiger got the chance to splatter him. In the moment the tiger only managed to claw Damon with a swipe before the Goblin started scrambling up the closest tree, although it wouldn’t do him much good as the tiger too could climb trees…

However this provided Damon with enough time as he activated the bombs in his mind.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGHHHHH”

The tiger shrieked in pain as all 3 knives exploded, not only devastating its body but also causing red-hot fires made out of mana that devoured its flesh. Perhaps the tiger could have survived, was it not for the fact that the knives had been stabbed in a diagonal line across its back; all of them exploding meant that its spine had been effectively broken, leaving it immobile to move as the fire carried on its feast.

It took a full minute before the tiger collapsed, causing barely any bloodstains as the fire continued to scorch the ground. Atop the tree branch Damon felt the adrenaline-rush die down, as terror at what had just happened broke out. He could feel that his back was bleeding out, the simple claw swipe doing enough damage to tear of his flesh!

He wouldn’t be challenging any mid-tier-3s for a while now…