Andrew had to admit, the scouts were frustratingly good at their jobs. Even as they walked through a forest full of creatures that could end him in an instant, Andrew felt completely safe. Which meant that even as he leveled up, they ensured he would never face anything that might threaten him. Which also meant… Andrew checked his animal core with a sigh.

[Level: 4

Strength: 20 (8) - stats per level

Agility: 36 (12)

Will: 24 (6)

Intellect: 0

Energy: 22 (6)

Sensitivity: 26 (8)]

He'd figured out the pattern for animal levels. It was a base plus two to each stat except for Will and Intellect, which got four and zero respectively. Then, when you leveled up, you got more stat points per level based on the level of the creatures you killed. At level zero, he killed a level four and got ten extra stat points for the first level and eight for the second. At level two, he killed a level three and a level four and got six. Then at level three, he killed two fours, and got four more. So in total, he gained forty stat points per level at level four. He wasn't sure exactly how the extra stats were assigned, but at the moment, he was getting eight points in Strength, twelve in Agility, six in Will and Energy, and eight in Sensitivity, while Intellect remained firmly at zero, which… he guessed made sense? Animals were by definition unintelligent.

All this to say he was an impressive little level four bunny. At level seven, his goblin core only gained forty-two points per level, which was only two more than the rabbit! Thinking about it, it made sense. Based on the pattern, animals were set to gain two more stat points per level as long as they leveled up, much like the goblins if they just took basic skills every level. Then they'd get bonuses for killing things over their level. The reason his rabbit folk core was doing so well was because he was consistently killing things of a higher level. Honestly, how many level zeroes could take out a level four? Still, now that he'd caught up, continuing to increase his rabbit folk core's level would be a waste. The scouts would only let him face these low leveled mobs.

What he needed to do was fight something with some heft. A level eight or nine predator, at least, but there was no way the scouts would ever let that happen. So, after hitting level four, Andrew reduced the animal core's aura as much as he could as they continued to hunt, hoping it would keep it from leveling up until he had the opportunity to face something actually worth killing, which… Well, it seemed to be working. He'd faced another five creatures since then, all of which should have been about level four, and it hadn't leveled up again, so he was pretty sure it'd worked.

"It's getting late." Tiltek muttered, looking up through the trees. "We should get out of the trees and make camp for the night. If we're lucky, you'll level up tomorrow. Then it should be another two or three days to your next, and three or four after that, depending on the levels of the creatures you face. All told, we should be here for a week, maybe a week and a half before we return."

"Is that good?" Andrew asked hesitantly.

Tiltek laughed. "That's excellent! Most of those we carry struggle to kill three or four creatures on their own before they must stop, which means they would take almost a month to level to ten from seven. Additionally, they are more likely to be injured, which would mean returning to town to heal before resuming. All told, we must usually spend almost two months doing what you will accomplish in a mere week! We are compensated the same either way, so you can imagine how glad we are to carry such a talented young goblin."

"Wait, you're paid for this?" Andrew asked, surprised.

Tiltek raised an eyebrow at him. "Of course. We are rendering a service. Why would we not be compensated?"

Andrew shrugged. "I guess I just thought it'd be part of the job? Just something you do as a scout."

Tiltek shook his head. "No. Carrying means we dedicate potentially months to help another progress while we stall our own. We cannot dedicate much time to practice our skills and we cannot take you near the high level areas we need to hunt to raise our own levels. If we were not compensated for that loss, no one would wish to carry another. If we were forced to, we would only do so grudgingly, possibly rushing the young into situations too dangerous for them, in order to accelerate their progress, which would lead to injuries and possibly deaths that would otherwise not have occurred. However, with appropriate compensation, we are happy to carry, and the penalties for losing our ward ensure we are motivated to keep you safe through the process."

*A little too motivated.* Andrew sighed internally. He really wished they'd let him face something more than half his level. He understood their caution, but it was getting frustrating.

Just like Tiltek suggested, it only took about a week for Andrew to level up to ten. He repurchased Concentrated Examination at level nine, and now all he needed to do was combine it with Walk before advancing his class, which he decided would be better done back within the safety of the town, where he could ask the Shaman for advice. The scouts were more than happy to be done earlier than expected, all of them clearly in a good mood as they began the journey back to town. However, as they got closer, their mood shifted, growing serious as it became clear that in their absence, something had happened.

Scorch marks peppered the fields, painting a picture of two powerful casters in a pitched battle that raged across the tribe's territory. The wall didn't seem any worse for wear, maybe a light scorch mark here or there, but nothing major. However, once they got inside, it was clear that something had run rampant inside. Some buildings had holes in them, others fire damage, and many had both. A few had even completely collapsed or turned into burnt out husks. The damage was particularly bad in the center of town, where it was clear the fiercest fighting had taken place. The building for taking care of the young was simply gone, all that remained was an empty hole surrounded by debris.

Andrew felt his heart clench. Vinek and Corek lived there… "Artek!" The Shaman exclaimed, rising from a chair set up in front of the remains of the town hall along with a makeshift desk and rushing over. The Chief was there as well, standing up with a relieved smile and waving with his left arm… cause his right was just gone. "I'm so glad you're alright! We were worried the raiders might have gotten you!" The Shaman began as he carefully looked Andrew over, making sure he was alright.

"What- what happened here?" Andrew asked, looking around in confusion.

"Raiders." The Shaman spat viciously. "They blew up the spawning chambers and the rearing building, simultaneously launching attacks on the Chief and I. Luckily, we were together, consulting with your young friend Corek about his path. Together we managed to defend long enough for the others to arrive."

"Then Corek-" Andrew asked.

The Shaman smiled. "Corek is fine. The rest of your spawning group…" The Shaman let out a weary sigh. "What the Raiders lack in power, they make up in devastation. They cannot kill the strong, so they massacre the weak. Savages!" The Shaman finished with a snarl.

"How- Did- Who- who survived?" Andrew choked out, staring intently at the Shaman.

The Shaman hesitated. "The Raiders- they planned their attack perfectly. They attacked just as everyone was going to bed…"

"But-" Andrew began, frustration in his tone. Why wouldn't he just answer the question?!?

"No one." The Shaman stopped him with a sigh. "Besides you and Corek, no one survived. Not from your spawning group, or any of the others. They're all- They're all dead."

Andrew's entire body went numb. Why? Why would someone do this?!? They- they were children! Images of the times they all played together flashed through Andrew's mind. The little ones, so eager to participate, even when they lost almost immediately. The kind ones tending to anyone who got injured on the sidelines. The competitive ones giving their all to do the best they could. All of them simply having fun together, in a way only kids could. And now all those happy faces were just gone… and for what? "Why?!?" Andrew hissed out, unable to articulate his question any further through the frustration and anger.

"Because we're monsters." The Shaman stated softly, and Andrew flinched. "No matter who we are, no matter what we do, that's what we are. The system has decided. And because we are monsters, our existence cannot be tolerated by the 'noble' races, because we exist to hurt them. We cannot exist without hurting them. And so we fight. Because we can't live without them, and they cannot live with us."

Andrew frowned. "I don't- I don't understand. Why couldn't we live without them?"

The Shaman frowned at him for a moment, before his eyes widened in realization. "Oh! Yes, you would have missed that… an oversight on my part." The Shaman paused, considering his next words carefully. "Artek, have you ever noticed that there are no female goblins?"

Andrew blinked. "None?"

"Not one. Every goblin born is male. It's how our race works." The Shaman explained.

"Then how-" Andrew began, frowning in confusion.

"We must… borrow the females of other races." The Shaman coughed awkwardly.

Andrew's expression twisted. "Oh. That's- I mean, if someone was willing-"

The Shaman snorted. "Who would be willing to endure something like that?!?"

"I'm sure someone would." Andrew shrugged. "I mean, people are freaks sometimes. I could see someone getting off on fucking goblins."

The Shaman gave Andrew the most incredulous look he'd ever seen. "Artek… it isn't the fucking that's the problem. It's the birthing. Orcs may have their volunteer concubines, but no woman would willingly subject themselves to the birthing process of a goblin!"

"What-" Andrew began, frowning, before suddenly he remembered. A dark sack full of tiny wriggling creatures, all struggling together until the sack burst. That- that wasn't an egg. That was- Andrew felt sick. Why?!?

"We try not to be horrible about it." The Shaman explained as he saw the realization on Andrew's face. "We keep the women numb, so they don't feel anything. We also pace ourselves. In order to maintain our population, we only need one woman a year. In the first spawn, about half of those born are goblins, while the other half are half-breeds, a mix of the two races, but… animalistic in nature. They aren't sapient. We can use the females from the half-breeds to breed, but in their spawn, only one in four will be half-breeds. Then with those, only one in eight will be a half-breed. And finally, those in the fourth generation will only have goblins, and we'll need a new woman. For the sacrifice of one, hundreds are born… yet it is still a horrible exchange. We know that. It's simply what we must do."

Andrew simply stood there, staring at the ground with an expression of sheer disgust on his face. He didn't wonder why the Raiders had done what they'd done anymore. If he knew about a race of creatures like this back in the Beast world… He'd definitely try to wipe them out. But… Now he was a goblin. His friends were goblins. The goblins had taken care of him. Nurtured him. Looked after him. He couldn't defend what they did, but… they didn't really have a choice, now did they? It was either this, or let their race go extinct… they should probably just let their race go extinct, because holy shit but he couldn't really expect them to. They didn't choose to be this way. They wanted to live their lives as much as anyone else. They wanted to be a people as much as anyone else. Was it selfish? Probably. But it was a selfishness he couldn't exactly blame them for. Procreation was literally one of the most fundamental instincts of a species.

Still… "This is probably a dumb question, since if there was a way, you'd probably already be pursuing it, but… is there a way for us to survive without… uh, doing that?" Andrew asked, his expression twisting.

"The best option is racial evolution." The Shaman explained. "A hobgoblin is more like an orc. Still not great, but at least the woman doesn't die in the process. If you're really lucky, you may even evolve into something like a vampire! They simply need to drink the blood of the noble races, which… still not great, but much more tolerable. Other than that… Well, you've seen all the goblinoids running around."

"The goblinoids?" Andrew asked, not sure what he was getting at.

"They're what happens when a goblin breeds with an animal." The Shaman explained. "All half-breeds, no sapience, just a bunch of goblin-like animals running around. We don't discourage the practice, for various reasons, mostly because it's hard to actually stop and why waste our breath? But it doesn't actually do anything for us. There's a spark that the noble races have that the monster races need to continue their own, and the only way to get it is by feeding off them in some way. So they hate us, but we need them, because otherwise… we'd just be animals."

"Fuck." Andrew groaned.

"Indeed." The Shaman nodded. "And so we must endure their raids, watch as they murder our children, be constantly vigilant, as prepared as we can be to stand against them when they come. All because of something we have no control over."

"I- can we even be mad?" Andrew replied. "I mean… what we do… it's horrible. I get why they'd want to destroy us."

"Do we not have just as much a right to exist as they do?" The Shaman asked defensively. "Are our lives worth less than theirs? We know what we do is horrible, but we harm few for the good of many. They harm many for the good of a few, and believe themselves to be justified for it!" He snarled. "They commit atrocities against us, time and time again! I understand their hatred, but it doesn't change the fact that they have done worse to us than we have ever done to them! We fight to live, they fight to destroy!"

Andrew frowned slightly, something about the Shaman's argument feeling… off, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what. He saw the Shaman's point. If you weighed each life as equal, then the noble races were doing a lot more damage than the goblins. But… Well, the goblins were essentially parasites. You couldn't really blame them for existing, but that didn't mean you wouldn't try to kill them whenever you could. Though… parasites weren't intelligent. Which brought Andrew right back to all life being equal. All intelligent life, at least. So was it right to sacrifice one life to create hundreds? Maybe? Maybe not? Has anyone solved the trolley problem yet? Andrew sighed. He just didn't know. He didn't like the idea of someone's good coming at someone else's expense, but if it was the only option… He just couldn't say one way or the other. All he knew was that this entire situation was well and truly fucked.

"So, how was your week?" Stephen asked as Andrew sat down with his parents for their weekly update. "Are you still hanging out with those two goblin kids?"

Andrew grimaced. "I- was. There- there was an attack on the tribe. One of them didn't make it."

Helen and Stephen froze. "Oh, Andrew, that's- I'm so sorry." Helen reached out to grab his hand in sympathy. "It's always hard to lose a friend, especially when it's caused by violence, not time."

Andrew nodded numbly. "I- I want to hate the people who did it. But I can't, because if I were in the same situation… I'd probably do the same thing."

"Recognizing that is a good first step." Stephen commented. "When we grieve, we tend to turn our sadness and frustration into hate and anger, which blinds us to reason and causes us to do things we… regret. Taking a step back and forming a rational response will help you prevent that."

Andrew let out a sigh. "I don't think there is a rational response."

Helen frowned. "Andrew, if people are attacking your tribe and killing your friends, you are obligated to defend them, even if that means hunting your enemies down and killing them yourself."

"But what if they attacked to defend their people from us?" Andrew replied.

"It doesn't matter." Helen retorted. "It isn't your responsibility to worry about their safety. If your tribe is doing something wrong, you must work to stop them, but in the meantime you defend them with every fiber of your being, because they are yours, and no one has the right to take them from you!"

Andrew glanced hesitantly at Stephen, who shrugged. "Essentially. Your people's safety is your first responsibility. Always."

"But- what if my people are monsters. Like literal monsters." Andrew asked.

"What do you mean?" Stephen asked, frowning.

Andrew let out a sigh, before launching into the explanation of what goblins were and how they procreated. "And now I don't know what to think, because goblins do have a right to live, but also people have a right to not be used as freaking spawning sacks! I mean, I would never put someone through something like that, so how can I condone someone else doing it? But I also wouldn't be happy if someone told me I had to let my entire race die out! Like being told you're evil simply for existing… ugh, and maybe they fucking are, but who am I to judge that?!?"

Stephen and Helen shared a look, before sighing in unison. Stephen turned back to Andrew. "Son, this is one of the hardest lessons to internalize, because it runs so counter to our instincts, but it is a simple fact that someone getting hurt is not the same as someone having done something wrong. The nature of these goblins is… well, quite frankly, it's horrifying. If I knew of anything like that lurking around my people, I would ensure their destruction by every means available to me. However, that doesn't make them evil. They are simply doing what it takes to survive, and they are right to give their all to defend themselves from any and all attack. Neither is wrong to do what they do. They're simply doing what is best for them and those around them, and the fact that it requires them to do horrible things to each other is a tragedy, but an unavoidable one. As much as it pains me to say it, it is your duty to defend these goblins, because they are your people. It is even your duty to help them…" Stephen's expression twisted. "procreate. Never forget you are doing it at another's expense, but when it comes to choosing between you and yours and complete strangers… no matter how sympathetic you may be, they aren't your responsibility. Your people are your responsibility and that's who you have to choose every time."

Andrew sat there silent for a moment as he took that in. Just like his dad had said, it was hard to accept. Even after his explanation, when he saw the logic, when it made sense, it still felt wrong. How could hurting people ever be right? But… in the end, this situation was going to hurt someone. And as his dad had said, it was his responsibility to do his best to make sure the people getting hurt weren't his own. "I just wish it didn't feel so shity." Andrew grumbled.

Stephen snorted. "That's one of the signs you're doing something right. It's easy to do what you want to do, and to not do what you don't want to do. Most people can even manage to not do what they want to do when they know it's wrong fairly easily. It's doing what you don't want to do simply because you know it's right that's hard, and the true test of one's character. Stopping yourself from being bad is the basics. Pushing yourself to be better is the goal."