Re: Tales of the Rune-Tech Sage

Chapter 161: The Dream that was a Goblin Empire

CH161 The Dream that was a Goblin Empire

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[Author’s Note: I want to try something different. This Chapter is from the POV of the goblin chief. Let me know what you think in the comments.]

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The goblin village was in high spirits today.

Their hunting parties had returned with more game than expected—enough to feed the entire village and still offer tribute to the mighty troll that granted them protection in this foreign land they’d migrated to months ago.

With this success, the Hobgoblin Lesser Priest—the chief of the village who aspiring to evolve into a true Goblin Priest—felt assured. They had secured enough meat to survive another month in this dangerous forest.

Another month of growth.

With time and nourishment, more goblins would evolve into Hobgoblins. And the current Hobgoblins, himself included, would be ready to ascend—into the higher variants of their kind.

Once his forces grew strong enough, he would lead a campaign across the forest. The first phase would be raids—capturing females to breed and expand their numbers. Then conquest. Then dominion. And one day, he would become a Goblin Emperor.

And after that... ruler of this world.

Just like that person said...

The goblin chief, brimming with ambition, watched the rabble celebrate. His unenlightened kin danced and howled around the fire, oblivious to the true cruelties of the outside world.

He didn’t blame them.

They were still children.

He hoped to be the one to change everything—for all of them. To give goblinkind freedom. True freedom. A world where they didn’t have to hide in caves and rot in filth. A world where they could walk in the light, like the Orcs, Elves, Dwarves... and those damned humans.

His people would no longer be weak.

A wide, toothy grin spread across his ugly face as he observed a group of newborn goblins tearing into an entire boar carcass. The meat was rich, and it showed—already, their bodies twitched with unnatural vitality.

Soon, this batch would begin producing Hobgoblins.

He could feel it. It wouldn’t be long now.

The Goblin Village Chief basked in the scent of cooked meat, mud, and blood. He patrolled the camp one last time, watching the others crawl into their tents.

Once all had settled, he returned to his own.

Inside, a furred bipedal beast lay in the corner, its protruding belly twitching from time to time. The unborn young one within kicked every now and then.

Its growth was steady.

The beast’s eyes were blank. Hollow. It didn’t so much as flinch when he entered. It merely parted its legs instinctively at the sound of his footsteps.

The chief licked his chapped lips.

Of all the females he’d broken in, this one wasn’t the most pleasurable, but it had the strongest body—and the most obedient temperament. That was why it had been chosen to be his personal breedmate.

As the thought passed through his mind, a carnal urge began to rise.

He did not resist it.

Grunting, he pushed aside his filthy loincloth, revealing his third limb. Without ceremony, he thrust himself between the creature’s legs, humping with short, animalistic thrusts.

The beast didn’t react.

It had long since stopped resisting.

The Goblin Village Chief believed that the greater and purer the essence it passed into the young one growing within the breed female’s stomach, the greater the potential the young one would have upon birth.

So, it didn’t hold anything back.

The Chief performed the deed in every possible style, drawing on all techniques known to its bloodline memories to generate and refine the purest essence it could.

When it finally reached the limit of essence it could produce, it infused it further with mana and physical energy, energising it to the peak of its potential.

It was just about to deposit the full load into the breed female’s body when a searing firebolt tore through the straw ceiling and struck her directly in the heart.

She didn’t even have the chance to scream. She caught fire instantly and burned to death.

Luckily for the Goblin Village Chief, it had withdrawn its third limb in time, sparing its precious organ and family jewels from damage.

Unluckily, all the essence and energy it had painstakingly gathered over multiple thrust sessions splattered uselessly on the floor.

Worse still, the great young one it had been growing within the breed female, after so much effort, had perished with her.

”AAAHHHHHHH!!!”

Despite its exhaustion, pure primal rage erupted from the Goblin Village Chief’s throat as it let out a scream unlike any it had ever uttered in its life.

It burst out of its tent—only to find the village descending into chaos.

Several other tents were on fire. Hobgoblins scrambled to control the panic among their terrified lesser kin.

Even the Chief found itself overwhelmed. Should it gather its warriors to douse the fires with water from the stream, or pursue the attacker who’d killed its favourite breeding female—and its precious unborn child?

That choice was taken from it in the next moment.

At the village entrance, seven direwolves emerged from the shadows. At the centre of the pack stood a towering white direwolf, and on its back rode a cloaked human with a cloth covering their head.

The human raised a single hand.

To the Chief’s eyes, the human’s hand blazed with incandescent light.

A moment later, a chill wind swept across the entire village.

The Goblin Village Chief swayed, its vision wavering. It barely resisted falling unconscious.

As it staggered, it looked around in growing horror.

The vast majority of its lesser kin had collapsed to the ground. Only the Hobgoblins—like itself—remained standing, barely resisting the human’s unknown attack.

A lucky few of the lesser goblins had managed to evade the assault.

The Chief knew then that it couldn’t risk staying any longer.

This human was likely the advance force of a larger hunting party. If the lesser goblins remained, they’d be slaughtered.

”Run!” it bellowed in the Goblin tongue.

And just like that, the order was given.

Being cowardly creatures by nature, the ordinary goblins didn’t think twice before bolting away to evade the invading raid.

With the surviving lesser kin out of the way, the goblin village let out a breath of relief.

But that relief was short-lived.

It watched in horror as the human atop the white Direwolf gave a silent gesture—and the remaining direwolves, excluding their mount, surged into the village with murderous intent.

From behind them, the human and their steed joined the offensive.

The white Direwolf launched an Icicle Bolt that pinned one of the younger Hobgoblins to a burning hut. A second later, one of the six direwolves lunged forward and finished the wounded creature off without hesitation.

Then came the human.

They lobbed a Fireball into a cluster of Hobgoblins gathered around fallen lesser kin. The explosion scattered them, and from its wake flew a single fire bolt.

A fire bolt too similar to the one that had killed the Goblin Village Chief’s obedient breeding female... and its precious unborn young one.

Once again, the Chief watched helplessly as fire consumed yet another of its bloodline.

Its vision turned red with rage.

A guttural incantation spilled from its lips in a twisted tongue.

Glyphs burst into existence across its forehead, crawling down the sides of its face in glowing streaks.

Ancestral Markings!

This village chief was no ordinary goblin. It was one of the rare few amongst the goblins blessed with ancestral power!

And yet, it did not stop chanting.

The markings pulsed brighter as the incantation intensified.

Moments later, shields of light shimmered into being, wrapping themselves around every standing Hobgoblin. The human mage’s magic now struck uselessly against the glowing wards.

”ROAAAR!”

The Goblin Village Chief let out a thunderous roar—and the Hobgoblins bellowed in response.

They surged forward, crashing into the direwolves with reckless abandon.

Meanwhile, the Village Chief charged directly at the human mage atop the white Direwolf.

Its eyes burned with madness and bloodlust.

It would squash the human, rip out their spine, and drink their blood from their shattered skull!

The direwolves faltered under the sudden weight of resistance. The enemy’s defences were tougher than expected.

Spooked, they retreated to their master’s side, and without a word, the human turned tail—leading a full retreat.

The Goblin Village Chief sneered.

Yes. This was the fate that awaited anyone foolish enough to oppose the rising goblin empire.

But they would not be allowed to flee.

Not after murdering its cherished breeding female, its unborn heir, and countless kin.

No.

They would be made an example of.

A brutal warning to all who dared cross the uprising goblin horde.

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