The town of Bridgeport was in mourning. Not for the life of a low level adventurer, cut down with no explanation at all, but for the life of another. A shadow was cast over the town, and everyone smaller than it was lost in the commotion.

The legendary goblin slayer hero, the Cobalt Knight, had gone out to defeat a group on his own, and everyone trusted him with that task. He had never failed before, why should this time be any different.

But that night, he hadn’t returned. A search party found his body in the morning, cut in half from the waist down. There were no signs or tracks of the attacker, but everyone knew it had to be the goblins.

So, despite the loss of the leader of the raid, the planning only grew more feverish. As if to honor him, to avenge him, the adventurers worked harder and harder to achieve his mission of completely exterminating the goblin threat.

There was no time for a sub level 10 adventurer to be mourned, no funeral held. Not even the guild, responsible for keeping track of such things, had noticed his death. Akira’s name remained listed on the active adventurers board, and in some ways, Tyrael thought that was for the best.

At least his name wouldn’t be forgotten.

She hated herself. She had pushed him away, made fun of his eccentric personality, thinking he was just stupid and immature, and only after losing him did she feel so… empty. Perhaps her harsh attitude towards him stemmed from a different, deeper feeling towards him.

But that was all too late now, he was gone. Not even the greatest healers of the capital could have revived a body in that state, he was barely even recognizable at the end. What sort of magic or curse could even do such a thing?

“Ty, it’s not your fault.” Gox tried to console his remaining companion, but she only continued to stare at the bottom of her drink, unmoving and unable to speak. “If we had joined him in that fight, perhaps that curse would have struck us all.”

“He... he was always talking about his goddess of victory. That he was her piece in a game against a great evil.” Tyreal finally spoke, her voice weak and hoarse from crying throughout the night. “I didn’t take him seriously, I thought he was just another adventurer who was full of himself.”

“Do you really think that-”

“What sort of force could strike him down in such a manner?! Not a mortal evil, not even the Demon Lord from the children’s stories of old!” she cried even harder, slamming her fist against the table in frustration. “Only a God could destroy something without even touching it!”

The lizardman pondered her words, quietly.

“Back before, I had not believed Akira’s words either, but something has been bothering me, something that goblin said.” he finally spoke, leaning closer to Tyrael. “My grandfather told my father a story many times, and my father passed it down to me, about how he was being toyed with by a true devil. The thing is that my father and I never believed this tale, for the devil he spoke of is not written of in any book. I became an adventurer partially to see, if maybe somewhere out there was anyone who had heard the name.”

“Gox, what are you saying?” she asked, not quite following him.

“That devil my grandfather spoke of, a devil not of this world.” Gox the lizardman continued. “It’s name, a name none in this life knows or remember, was Beelzebub. And when Akira… when it happened, I heard that goblin say that name.”

“The goblin girl knows something we don’t… do you think she knows who killed Akira?!” Tyrael practically fell from her chair as she stood up, her legs shaky from the alcohol she had consumed and lack of sleep.

“Relax, we’ll find her.” the lizardman caught the falling elf. “Tomorrow, after you’ve had time to rest.”

-

“P-Please, don’t hurt me!” a human man begged for mercy, he was a normal civilian, not an adventurer. I, Fiffil the goblin, just to be clear who this is, was in a small seaside hamlet.

And this man was a chef who was selling mouthwatering looking meat and vegetable kebabs. I was starving and wandered here subconsciously from the smell. I held out a gold piece towards the man, which was worth far more than the price listed on his sign.

“H-Huh?” he stopped recoiling in fear from the sight of me, his eyes locked on the gold coin. This far out from the capital, had anybody seen a real gold coin before, I wonder.

“Do you uhh, want to buy… a kabab?” he gestured around, trying to communicate non verbally.

“I speak common, somehow.” I answered, and he looked like he almost fainted. “This is enough right?” he nodded nervously, handing me one of the kebabs and then taking the coin, trying not to touch my hand.

The rules of this ‘gameboard’ state that monsters, mobs like me, don’t enter the settlements of the civilized races. But I had already said I wouldn’t play by the rules, so why would I continue to do so?

I sat down under a large oak tree in the center of the village, and enjoyed my meal. The small hamlet didn’t take very well to my presence, but they were all too scared to do anything, considering the wicked looking sword on my back.

“Master, what’s gotten into you?” The fire spirit Incindra asked, manifesting partially from the blade. “You seem… different.”

“Hmm? I guess so.” I answered, my mouth still half full of meat. “I thought I would be punished for what I did, but it hasn’t happened.”

I was determined now. What I had been before wasn’t true determination, it was just false bravado. But now, I felt strong. I stood up to a god, me, a mere goblin! And that man was gone, least I think he should be with how I shattered his piece.

“I won’t let you have your way, either of you.”