The next day, the air was thick with the clang of assorted weapons being swung around by novices.

The goblins were much worse at fighting than he feared. They had no real fighting method or technique and could barely use their weapons. Some had not even fought before, having never left the village. He had to teach them the basics from gripping the weapons to their stances.

That being said, their enthusiasm was not curbed by their inadequacies one bit. Their eyes gleamed when he addressed them and even the younger goblins could focus their boundless energy on training. He trained alongside them, approving of their motivation.

Might as well polish up my basics while I’m here.

In fact, they seemed to be fast learners. The younger ones especially so, as they were just learning their hunting instincts. They picked up the basic swings quickly and their form seemed decently adequate for first timers. Perhaps goblins were stronger than humans gave them credit for. All they needed was some guidance.

When he felt that they had made some progress, he chose 5 of the best fighters to eventually take out for an expedition, ones that had mastered the basics and were eager to learn more. Three were adults who had previously explored outside the village. They were by no means seasoned veterans, but they did have experience making their way through the forest. The other two were goblin children.

Normally, he would never allow children to fight outside of training, but goblins have a very early development and their children were almost at the level of an adult after only a year. Honestly, it was a bit scary seeing a year old goblin wielding a spear better than some adults. That said, his own body was quite young, 2 years at most. So he could hardly say anything, could he.

One of the children was the excitable young goblin girl who seemed impossible to shake off since coming back to the village. She was constantly by his side, seemingly interested in the most random things. She would ask him why he wore his sword like that, if he thought this bug she just caught was cool or not or if he could pick her up and throw her into the sky.

“Upsy daisy,” he said as her lobbed her high into the air. She squealed and cried “again, again” when he caught her. Eventually his arms started to ache. Although his stamina was improving with daily training, there was only so many times he could throw this girl. Exhausted, he set her down and she bounded off, disappearing to harass some other poor soul.

The elder approached him.

“She is warming to you, Utho. She usually doesn’t show such familiarity to other goblins,” he said. They watched her bop an innocent goblin child over the head to initiate a high-pitched screaming game of chase through the village. “Not since her parents died has she been this out of control before.”

It was still a little hard adjusting to the new name. He supposed it would be best to accept this, a name given by a goblin would do just as well as any.

“I’m not sure why she’s so attached, I mean I hardly ever spoke to her,” he said. Children were not his strong suit and the thought of raising a family had never occurred to him in his previous life. He had spent his whole life devoted to his service to the kingdom. However, he felt comfortable enough around that little ball of energy and didn’t mind her exuberant company.

“Well, I suspect that she sees you as a father figure. Not only because you are strong. But also because you are kind,” the elder said. It did make sense, he did take down the feared enemy of the goblins.

“How did her parents pass?” he asked, “was it the White Death?”

The elders lips pressed into a thin line. “No, it was not. I’m afraid their deaths were at the hands of a band of humans not too long ago.”

This surprised Utho. Usually humans avoided the abyssal forest. The simple folk knew the forest as being guarded by the spirits of the dead, with dark arcane magics forming dangerous traps and creating vicious creatures. To him as a knight who frequently went on expeditions beyond the kingdom, the forest was simply a well of mana.

The forest was fed by a deep underground spring of mana that allowed life to flourish. Although it did make creatures stronger, it was not by any means dark magic. The only danger lay with the stone golems that somehow became animated and did guard the forest. These were no match for his previous self, but an ordinary soldier would not be able to face one and as such these parts were mostly untouched.

“Why did the humans come? Did they attack the village?” he queried. The elder shook his head.

“No, this happened just within the boundary of the forest. Not this deep in,” he said. “We were a group, foraging the area for fruits. My son was leading us. He was such a kind soul...” He trailed off sadly. With a small nod, he left, leaving Utho to ponder the story.

The air was heavy with the sound of goblins training and the children shrieking. Innocent and warm. But now he found it to be a little colder. Why were these humans entering the forest to attack goblins? Why were they there to behind with? How did they get past the golems?

The expedition party left early in the morning, all six of them ready with their weapons. They planned to scour the area close to the village. Although they admired Utho greatly, the adults still feared the forest as many of their friends and family’s lives had been claimed by these woods. As they set off, they glanced fearfully around as the familiar gate was left behind them.

The two children held no such reserves. They were whooping with delight and chasing all manner of curiosities around the party (much to the adults dismay). Utho supposed it was okay, as it was in the daytime and he could easily keep up with the children. As playful as they were, they still kept within a reasonable radius as he had drilled into them to keep within eye sight.

If I cannot see you, then you’re as good as dead if some creature finds you, he had told them. At least the most important lesson stuck with them.

The party moved south of the village, seeing no creatures and decided to turn left. They happened upon a trail with clear bunny footprints.

“Look! It’s paw prints!” cried the children, almost immediately running all over the tracks. Luckily one of the adults quickly bundled them up and set them to watch out for any dangers while the rest of them examined the tracks.

It looked to be two adult rabbits heading in the same direction. From what he could tell they were traveling alone. Back in the village he had quickly taught the adults how to track animals and examine their behaviours purely from their footprints.

“See here, this one seems to have been in a fight before. It’s dragging its back paw as it runs,” he pointed out, noting the extra marks with a stick. The adults studied it closely. To him it was second nature, but to them it was a whole new concept they had never touched on before.

“Teacher Utho, where you learn skill like this?” piped up one of the adults, a Goblin named Brun. They usually never bothered with names, mostly because for goblins names had to be earned through feats of bravery and strength. Instead, because the village was so small, they simply called each other sister or brother, or shrimp, or eejit. Honestly, their descriptions of each other could be substitutes for names. It only worked because they were so few.

He had rather large muscles and quite smart. He had ventured out quite a few times and of the whole goblin group, was the most comfortable with travelling in the forest. They gave him his name as he had once defeated a large mole rat who had invaded the village and tried to bite one of the children.

A single *smack* on the head with a wooden mallet by Brun brought it down and they hailed him as a hero. After training, he had told Utho in confidence that he had simply panicked and swung wildly. By some miracle, it had connected and he was just as surprised as the rest of the village. After being told how big the mole rat had been, Utho could only shake his head.

Boy these goblins sure are a scared, weak lot aren’t they.

“Well, Brun, uh I learnt it on my travels. If you train hard enough and get experience, you can also learn many things,” he said, trying to sound confident in his words. There was no way he was telling this group that he had learnt it from the Huntmaster, the Duke of Bordair who loved dragging him along one of his monthly hunting trips in the royal forest. If he had to stretch the truth, then so be it, if only to make sure they didn’t realise his ties to humans.

They moved on, still tracking the pair of rabbits.

Soon, they came upon their burrow. It was a simple open entrance and large enough that they could walk straight in. He nodded to the others and they nodded back at him.

It was time to hunt.