As the atmosphere in the room slowly settled from the earlier tension, Karl decided it was best to move things forward before someone acted on their anger. Without another word, he reached toward the table and activated the video the system had prepared for humanity. The great screen above the fireplace flickered to life, bathing the lodge-like hall in pale blue light. For a moment nothing appeared, only static dancing across the screen, until suddenly a figure stepped out from the projection itself and into the room as though the barrier between illusion and reality meant nothing to him. Audible gasps spread through the couches as everyone instinctively leaned back.
The being looked human at first glance, though something about him felt fundamentally wrong in a way Arin could not properly describe. His skin carried a faint blue tint, his smile too smooth, too perfectly measured, and atop his head rested an elegant black top hat that looked entirely out of place. The worst part, however, was not his appearance but the strange effect he had on the mind. The moment Arin looked away, he found it difficult to remember details about the entity's face. It was as though the mind refused to hold onto the image for too long. Only the certainty of his existence remained. Even that alone made the room tense again.
"Good day to you all," the avatar announced cheerfully while spreading his arms wide beside the fireplace as if he were hosting a stage performance. "I am the physical avatar of the Trial System, here to guide you through the details of your trial and, more importantly, your rewards." He adjusted his hat with theatrical flair before grinning widely. "And honestly, your rewards are rather impressive, so let us begin." His tone sounded warm and lively, but the room remained deathly silent. Nobody trusted something that could smile like that while casually speaking about humanity's survival.
The avatar snapped his fingers, and the screen behind him changed to images of the battlefield, endless waves of goblins stretching toward the horizon beneath burning skies. "Humanity performed exceptionally well during this trial," he continued while pacing slowly across the room. "The goblin portal was sealed in eleven months and three days." His grin widened further. "Quite unexpected, truly. According to the original calculations, humanity was projected to lose." That single sentence made several people visibly stiffen. The avatar either ignored their reactions or enjoyed them too much to care.
"The goblins' numbers should have eventually overwhelmed your forces," he explained while scenes of ruined human fortifications appeared behind him. "They captured increasing quantities of your weapons and armor as the war dragged on. In the original projected future, your front collapsed completely." The images shifted again, now showing starving civilians chained together beneath goblin banners. The room instantly turned colder. Arin felt his stomach tighten as the avatar calmly continued describing humanity's hypothetical defeat in horrifying detail. The goblins would have enslaved the surviving population, stripped humanity of its culture, and eventually discovered human sexuality through experimentation on female captives.
Several adults immediately stood up in disgust while others covered the younger children's ears before the descriptions became even worse. The mothers in the room looked murderous, while even the hardened veterans present had gone pale. Arin heard someone gag behind him as the system continued speaking in the same cheerful tone, utterly disconnected from the horror of its own words. The contrast made it infinitely worse. The avatar seemed almost amused by the room's revulsion, as if emotional discomfort was part of the entertainment.
"The Earth System is particularly pleased with your Marshals," the avatar said suddenly, clapping his hands together with a delighted smile. The gruesome images vanished at once, replaced by scenes of commanders arguing inside military bunkers. "Many governments and elite groups attempted to pressure them into retreating." The avatar tilted his head slightly. "Some wished to preserve their own power. Others desired the goblins' luck and believed surrender would allow them to benefit afterward." His grin sharpened. "In the projected future, the Marshals eventually yielded under political pressure and were removed from command. Humanity then lost shortly afterward."
The room fell silent again, but this time the silence felt heavier. Several older members of the family exchanged grim looks, clearly realizing how close humanity had come to destroying itself even before the goblins could finish the job. "But," the avatar continued happily, "your Marshals exercised free will and ignored those demands." He gave an exaggerated bow while tipping his hat. "That is the entire point of free will, after all. Otherwise this would all be terribly boring." No one laughed. The avatar straightened again before sighing dramatically. "Honestly, you people are no fun."
His eyes drifted toward the Sonneberg family specifically, and Arin nearly froze under the weight of that gaze. Unlike Mother Gaia, whose presence inspired reverence and belonging, this being felt completely alien. It carried no pressure, no visible power, and somehow that made it infinitely more terrifying. Arin's instincts screamed at him that the entity standing casually beside the fireplace could erase everyone in the room without effort or emotion. Around him, the others shifted uncomfortably on their couches, clearly feeling the same thing.
"Well then," the avatar continued while clapping once more, "let us move on to battlefield statistics. I will not bother counting your petty little squabbles in the Heartland." His eyes lingered meaningfully on Arin for a moment, causing the young ranger to immediately look away. Karl coughed lightly, clearly welcoming the distraction from the avatar's attention. The lights in the room dimmed dramatically while a spotlight illuminated the massive screen above them. Somewhere unseen, a drumroll began playing.
"The total number of goblins killed during the trial," the avatar declared grandly, "was forty-three billion, six hundred eighty-three million, eight hundred seventy-nine thousand, three hundred twenty-nine." The number hung in the air like something unreal. Even after fighting the war themselves, many still struggled to comprehend numbers that massive. The avatar grinned while numbers rapidly appeared across the screen. "And among this room alone, nearly two million kills were accumulated by fewer than two hundred individuals." He pulled out his empty pockets theatrically. "It seems talented archers truly are profitable."
Karl leaned back slightly while stroking his beard thoughtfully. "That sounds about right," he muttered. "There wasn't a single day we weren't stationed at the front. Once visibility was clear enough, it mostly came down to stamina and arrow supply." Several other archers nodded in agreement. They had long since stopped counting individual kills during the worst parts of the campaign. Days blurred together into endless shooting, endless exhaustion, and endless goblins collapsing beneath volleys of arrows. The sheer scale of it now felt surreal.
"Yes, yes," the avatar said approvingly. "Your governments will likely invest heavily into archery moving forward." He seemed noticeably more relaxed now that people were actually speaking instead of staring at him in terror. Apparently the reactions in other rooms had disappointed him. "Most humans either worship me as a god or stare like frightened prey," he complained dramatically. "Honestly, it ruins the atmosphere." He pointed accusingly at the family. "At least you people are interesting." Nobody looked reassured by that statement.
"Now then," the avatar announced while another drumroll echoed through the room, "onto human casualties." The screen flickered again before displaying the number in massive glowing letters. "Six billion, seven hundred sixty-five million, eight hundred thirty-six thousand, two hundred ninety-seven deaths." The room went silent once more. Even expecting heavy losses did not prepare anyone for seeing the exact figure displayed so bluntly. The avatar tilted his head slightly while observing their reactions with open curiosity.
"That results in approximately one human death for every 6.4 goblins killed," he explained casually. "Not terrible considering your species has enjoyed relative peace for over fifty years." His smile sharpened again into something mocking. "But still far below the required ratio for victory in a true war of attrition. You would require a ratio exceeding ten goblins per human casualty to sustain long-term conflict against goblin civilization." His expression practically screamed that he found humanity's chances laughable.
"To explain why," the avatar continued brightly, "we require a short biology lesson." He clapped his hands together once more. Instantly the entire room transformed. The hunting lodge vanished, replaced by a classroom complete with desks, whiteboards, and fluorescent lighting. Groans and startled curses erupted throughout the family. "No," Johny muttered immediately. "Absolutely not. I already survived school once." The avatar ignored him entirely while summoning a large image behind himself.
"As you are aware," he began while pointing toward the screen, "all goblins encountered thus far have been male." The image changed to depict the strange sacred tree the goblins worshipped. The thing looked deeply unsettling, possessing the trunk of a pine tree while supporting long willow-like branches heavy with thick green leaves. It looked unnatural in a way that made Arin instinctively uncomfortable. "Their reproduction process," the avatar continued with obvious delight, "is directly connected to this sacred tree."
Several adults immediately looked suspiciously nervous. The avatar grinned wider. "The details are rather unpleasant," he admitted happily, "so I will simplify things slightly for the children." With another snap of his fingers, everyone under eighteen suddenly found oversized headphones placed over their ears. Tilly blinked in confusion while cheerful music immediately began playing for the younger children. Arin, unfortunately, received no such protection. He immediately wished he had.
The avatar launched enthusiastically into the explanation while pacing around the classroom like an excited professor. Goblins apparently deposited bodily fluids onto the sacred tree's leaves before consuming them afterward. Over the next three months, offspring would gestate directly inside the goblin's stomach cavity until eventually bursting outward violently, killing the parent in the process. The avatar described every detail with horrifying enthusiasm, complete with visual diagrams that nobody asked for. By the halfway point, multiple people had already bolted toward the garbage bins in the corner of the room.
Arin barely managed to hold himself together while listening, though his face had gone completely pale. Around him, adults gagged openly while others cursed the avatar beneath their breath. Even Karl looked deeply disturbed, which honestly made the situation worse somehow. The Trial System avatar, meanwhile, appeared to be having the time of his life. A massive grin stretched across his face while he watched nearly half the room throwing up into garbage cans. He made absolutely no effort to hide how entertaining he found their suffering.
"See?" the avatar said cheerfully while someone behind Arin dry-heaved loudly into a bin. "Educational and memorable!"