You know that feeling when you open a game after a few hours of grinding and suddenly realize your kingdom is slowly turning into a noisy food market?
No? Of course you don't.
Because unlike me, you normal people were probably outside, touching grass, eating snacks, or flirting with actual humans.
Meanwhile, I was dead. Literally.
And still winning.
Anyway—welcome back, my dear nosy readers.
Yes, you.
The ones who somehow survived the first two chapters without uninstalling this story from your brain.
Congrats.
Let's see if you can handle this mess.
So… remember those six goblins who bent the knee yesterday?
The ones who looked like they were auditioning for "Scared Shrekless"?
Yeah. Apparently, word spreads faster in this jungle than spoilers on anime forums.
By the time Cornalis and I stepped out of my mossy throne clearing this morning, the entire forest was wiggling.
I mean it.
Bushes shaking, trees rustling, little green heads popping out like bad whack-a-moles.
And then—BAM!
An entire horde of goblins marched into my clearing like it was a festival.
Not six. Not ten.
Fifty.
FIFTY.
"Lord Haru," Zig the goblin warrior (and part-time professional muscle) grunted, bowing so low I thought his forehead might drill into the soil.
"All clans of the Green Hollow have gathered to serve the Shadow King of the Stone Throne."
Shadow King.
That's me, by the way.
Cool name, right?
Totally not something I made up five seconds ago in my head.
Cornalis, my ever-perfect butler, gave a smooth bow.
"Your Majesty, it appears your reputation… spreads."
He said it like it was nothing, but I swear I saw the corner of his mouth twitch.
"Fifty goblins, huh?" I muttered loudly, just to make sure the readers—you know, you—heard it.
"That's… fifty more citizens than you'll ever have in your imaginary kingdom, dear reader. Don't cry."
Anyway, numbers are numbers.
From six to fifty in one night.
Population boom achieved.
My EXP system dinged like a happy microwave.
> [System]: +60 EXP per hour.
Level Up! Haru – Level 9
"Level Nine without breaking a sweat," I whispered.
Eat that, grind-heavy MMOs.
Of course, with great goblins comes great responsibility.
And noise.
And smell.
Seriously, why does every goblin camp smell like wet socks dipped in onions?
Cornalis stood beside me with his classic butler smile.
"I have prepared an initial management plan, My Lord."
He handed me a glowing scroll.
"Labor distribution for housing, food storage, and a preliminary… palace," he added.
Oh yes.
A palace.
For me.
Because why not.
I clapped my hands like an excited kid.
"Alright, everyone! Listen up!"
Dozens of yellow eyes blinked at me.
Some goblins straightened like soldiers, others just scratched their bellies.
"I hereby appoint Priest Grag" —I pointed at the elderly goblin with the crooked staff—
"as my head of Magical Military and Mystical Research!"
Grag thumped his staff against the ground, sparks of blue mana fizzing out.
The goblins oohed.
Good start.
"And Zig," I said, spinning dramatically (because kings deserve flair),
"you are now Commander of the Arm Military! Train a force. Make them buff. Scare my enemies. Scare my readers too if possible."
Zig roared in approval, flexing like a green boulder.
"Everyone else," I added, "build me a palace so shiny that the sun gets jealous. And food storages. And… uh… maybe a bath. Your king has delicate skin."
Cornalis coughed politely.
"My Lord, shall we also establish a council for kingdom affairs?"
"Council, yes," I said.
"Because every fantasy king needs a bunch of people to argue with.
Later, I called Grag and Zig into my mossy throne office—which is really just a rock that smells slightly less than the others.
"Alright, team," I began, waving my hand like a CEO about to crush quarterly profits.
"We need more council members. Suggestions?"
Grag stroked his beard (or maybe it was moss).
"Our tribe lacks those of… refined mind."
Translation:
Everyone here is either too dumb, too drunk, or too busy wrestling squirrels.
"But," Grag added, lowering his voice,
"far to the east, beyond the Ashen Trees, lies a hidden settlement of oni.
Strong, cunning… perfect allies if you can tame them."
Oni, huh?
Big horned warriors with muscles that make Zig look like a breadstick.
Tempting.
Dangerous.
Perfect.
I leaned back, grinning like the villain I absolutely am not.
"Well then," I said, "pack my lunchbox, Cornalis. We're going oni hunting."
Cornalis bowed, eyes glinting like he already had seventeen hidden plans.
"As you command, Lord Haru."
Before leaving, I gave my loyal subjects some kingly homework.
"Alright you adorable swamp muffins," I declared to the goblins,
"I'm heading out for a bit. While I'm gone, I want—"
I pointed dramatically at the half-built huts—
"houses, food stores, and a palace worthy of my magnificent behind!
Zig slammed his fist into his chest.
"We will build, Lord Haru!"
Grag raised his staff.
"The kingdom of Dravemire shall rise!"
"Good," I said, brushing invisible dust off my robe.
"And don't forget the bath. Or I'll spawn rats in your socks."
A collective shudder ran through the crowd.
Power feels nice.
Almost as nice as the +60 EXP pinging in my system every hour.
Now, dear reader, I know what you're thinking.
"Wow, Haru is unstoppable. Nothing can possibly go wrong!"
Wrong.
Let's leave my beautiful jungle kingdom for a second.
Yes, I'm dragging you away.
Don't whine.
Consider it a free trailer for the next big disaster.
Far away, across cracked hills and shadowed valleys,
a cliff jutted out over the roaring sea.
The sky burned orange with sunset, winds slicing like sharp whispers.
There, a woman stood.
Her white robe shimmered with golden linings, flaring like angel feathers.
Her long hair danced with the breeze.
Her eyes—icy, sharp, unsettling.
Behind her, an elderly priest limped forward, leaning on a polished staff.
"Priestess," he called over the wind,
"the cathedral awaits. The council is restless."
The woman didn't move.
She stared at the horizon like she could see my kingdom hidden beyond worlds.
"Calamity…" she whispered, her voice barely louder than the waves.
"…is about to begin."
Ooooh.
Spooky.
Mysterious.
Cue dramatic music.
Yes, I can practically hear your brains screaming,
"Who is she? What calamity? Will she meet Haru?!"
Relax, reader.
I'm not telling you.
Not yet.
Because suspense tastes better when it's slow-cooked.
Meanwhile, I—your incredibly handsome protagonist—
was already marching toward the eastern horizon with my demon-butler sidekick,
my system humming with free EXP,
my mind plotting new upgrades,
and my heart full of…
well, mostly greed and sarcasm.
The goblins behind me hammered, shouted, and built my dreams into wood and stone.
My kingdom of Dravemire was alive.
And you?
You're stuck reading my adventure,
wondering if I'll survive the oni,
meet the mysterious cliff lady,
or just trip over a root and die again.
Either way,
don't blink.
Because the real game is only starting.
Cue evil laugh.