Chapter 66

“G-GERUK!”

In Hobgoblin tongue, that meant “Monster!”

As the Hobgoblin Chief absorbed the reality of his people's deaths, that word kept playing in his mind over and over again.

Dozens of Hobgoblins were slayed in a single moment, and the voice of their killer echoed in depraved laughter as he inflicted an unjust punishment.

Just what… what did he and his people do to deserve this?!

For the seven months that he had been the Chief of the Hobgoblins, they had enjoyed nothing but peace and prosperity.

The Chief had eagerly looked forward to the day when he could relinquish his duties and join his ancestors in the earth.

It seemed that day would arrive within a month or two, and he had been anticipating it happily.

Yet, this had to happen in his lifetime?

During his rulership?

Why?!

The ancient fables of the Hobgoblin society told of a time when they were the prey of the NightWolves, but thanks to the leadership of the great KoKuKa, the Hob Chief at the time, they were able to turn the tides around.

Yet, this victory was not easily won.

It took the dedicated efforts of several generations of Hobgoblin Chiefs to secure their dominion over the dark land once ruled by powerful predators.

These events happened so long ago that they were now considered fables in Hobgoblin lore.

The Hobgoblins now only knew peace and prosperity, and the only reason they hadn’t lost their combat skills was due to the contests that were frequently held—once every month.

If it hadn’t been for that, the Hobgoblins would have all grown fat and lazy.

The Hobgoblin Chief had been initially grateful that they didn’t abandon their culture.

He thought their training would finally be put to good use against the invader.

But now… now he thought differently.

Their training, once a source of pride and preparation, now seemed pointless in the face of the entity's overwhelming powers—abilities beyond the reach of any Hobgoblin, even surpassing the legendary feats of the great KoKuKa.

If this was how things were going to be, then wouldn’t it have been better to have enjoyed themselves to the fullest?

They should have all gotten fat and lazy.

At the very least, laziness would have granted them fleeting moments of pleasure before their inevitable annihilation!

“G-Guh…?!”

The Hobgoblin Chief noticed that the echoes and screams had ceased.

That meant the last of the warriors had fallen.

It was all over.

Blind to the scene unfolding around him, the Chief could only await his fate, trembling upon his throne.

His palms were slick with sweat and he clung desperately to his scepter.

He had no idea why he stubbornly clung to his position when everything was going to disappear soon.

Meanwhile, the little ones and women were locked in the other room. Since they could not participate in war, they had to be sheltered from all of it.

Hobgoblins did not particularly discriminate when it came to warfare, but there were pragmatic reasons why children and women could not be allowed to fight.

Children were too weak and unintelligent to be of any use. Instead, they would be liabilities.

They hadn’t been trained in weaponry, and their muscles were yet to develop, so they could not properly wield any weapon.

As for the women, Hobgoblins bred regularly, so they were constantly pregnant.

All the women in the tribe had babies in their wombs. Once they gave birth, they would be impregnated once again.

For the future of the tribe, that was the custom.

As a result, the three hundred additional Hobgoblins confined within the room represented their future.

Unfortunately, they were all doomed to die.

Not at the hands of the annihilator—he would never find them—but due to starvation or some other tragic circumstance.

Unless a group of adult Hobgoblins rolled the stone that blocked the entrance/exit from the outside, all of them would be trapped inside, condemned to a slow and painful death.

He was the only adult left, and he doubted he could push the stone boulder himself.

In the end, the children and women only had one option.

To feed on one another as their ancestors did in the past, while breeding constantly to stay alive.

The Hobgoblin Chief found this to be terribly barbaric.

They had already evolved past such primitive acts, and to resort to such abominable acts felt like a shameful regression for their people.

However… he would still prefer them to do that rather than die out.

Thoughts of his children and his five mates weighed heavily on his mind.

He couldn't bear the idea of their lives being snuffed out.

He wanted them to live… no matter the cost.

~SQUELCH!~

Agony tore through the Hobgoblin Chief as his flesh was ripped apart and blood gushed out along with his entrails.

In the blink of an eye, he was on the brink of death.

That single second of agony felt like hell for him, but thankfully it didn’t last too long.

“G-gureekkidaaa…”

Those were the last words the Hobgoblin Chief uttered before breathing his last in a pool of his own blood and guts.

In Hobgoblin's tongue, it meant, “The end has come.”

And he couldn’t have been more correct.

********

"Looks like they're all dead," Rey muttered grimly, his gaze sweeping over the scene strewn with the lifeless bodies of over three hundred Hobgoblins.

“Haa… this is awful.”

A sigh of sadness and pain escaped his lips as he witnessed the horror he had wrought.

However, Rey didn’t feel bad because he had just massacred an entire tribe of Hobgoblins.

He did so for a completely different reason.

“I’ll have to pick up all those Monster Cores…”

The thought of engaging in such a mundane and time-consuming activity left him feeling frustrated and drained.

As his human brain tried to figure out a way out of this problem, he suddenly had an idea.

“Hold on! I could just use THEM!”

Who were the ‘THEM’ that Rey referred to?

Well, they were none other than the group of women and children who were trapped within the confines of the stone boulder right behind the Hobgoblin Chief’s throne.

Rey had already detected their presence during the chaos of the battle, and with little effort, he could free them by moving the obstructing stone.

In the end, it appeared that the problem had resolved itself.

“They can help me pick up the Cores!”

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[A/N]

I don’t even know what to say.

I’m sorry for all the info dump and tangents I went on in this chapter.

I just like writing this way, since it helps me flesh out the story a lot more.

It feels better knowing that the Hobgoblins being killed aren’t just mindless drones but sentient creatures with families and emotions.

How does it feel to know that your Mc, Rey, just murked all of them?

Right now, we can only pray for the women and children…