The cave was a disaster. Goblins were scurrying about, attempting to clean the mess they called a home in the most disorganized way possible. They bumped into each other constantly, and the air was thick with high-pitched insults and petty shoves.
I observed them from my throne, my head propped on one hand as I tried to organize my thoughts. It had been several hours since I woke from my "conversation" with Varkas. The tribe was in a state of religious frenzy; the fact that I had stood up, healed and whole, was taken as absolute proof that I was favored by the Goblin God. Morkish, the shaman, didn't help matters. He spent the morning shrieking that Varkas had visited him in a dream to name me the "Chosen One" and other such nonsense.
At least the speech worked in my favor. The goblins now looked at me with genuine reverence, and the title "King" was whispered wherever I walked. I didn't feel like a King, but the title gave me the authority to boss them around and plan my next steps.
My first order was simple: logistics. I forced them to stop wandering aimlessly and start sorting. I wanted all the weapons in one pile, all the food in another, and the filth cleared out. While they worked, I analyzed the impossible deal I had signed.
The terms were brutal. I had no idea where to start. The "Relics" were likely items of immense power, probably guarded by the strongest heroes of this world. As for the "Temples," I assumed they belonged to other gods, because if Varkas existed, others surely did too. Unless I happened to stumble upon an abandoned temple, I expected to face mobs of religious fanatics protecting them.
That left the Civilization Core. It seemed like the only logical starting point. I focused my mind and activated my new skill. "System... what is a Civilization Core?"
[NEURAL ARCHIVE: QUERY PROCESSING...]
• Topic: Civilization Core
• Access Level: General Knowledge (Rank E)
[DEFINITION] A Civilization Core is the metaphysical heart of a sovereign territory. It acts as a focal point for the collective energy of a tribe, nation, or empire. Without a Core, a group is merely a collection of scavengers; with a Core, they are a Civilization.
[UPGRADE MECHANISM] The Core accumulates Expanse Points through the completion of specific territorial tasks, such as:
• Resource acquisition and infrastructure development.
• Military conquests and border expansion.
• Cultural or technological advancements.
[SYSTEM BENEFITS] As the Core levels up, it radiates a Territorial Field. All recognized subjects within this field receive permanent passive bonuses, including:
• Enhanced Attributes: Increased physical strength, stamina, or intelligence.
• Production Efficiencies: Improved crafting success and accelerated healing.
• Technological Tiering: Unlocking higher-level buildings and specialized combat classes.
"Well…" I muttered to myself. At least the response gave me something to work with. It felt like my life had become a twisted mixture of the games I used to play—half third-person RPG, half civilization builder. I had to level up a kingdom, raise my own stats, and hunt for treasures. Absolutely great.
I rubbed my temples, feeling a headache coming on. At least I didn't have to go searching for the Core. The moment I had sat back down on the throne, a new screen had flickered into existence.
[Civilization Core Detected (Lv. 0): Do you wish to bind it?]
I accepted immediately. As the connection formed, I felt a strange sensation behind the throne, like a phantom limb. It felt distant, yet undeniably a part of me. Closing my eyes, I attempted to interact with it, desperate to know what was required to move forward. A minimalist interface appeared in my mind's eye.
[Civilization Core (Level 0)] Options: [Status] [Requirements]
The 'Status' was painfully brief, and 'Requirements' wasn't much better.
[Status] Level: 0 Core: Stable
[Requirements for Level 1] Objective: Construct a settlement to access control over structures.
"Construct a settlement to access control over structures," I whispered. "Incredibly helpful." Since I had to wait twenty-four hours for my next query from the Archive, I was on my own for now. I exited the interface and glanced to my right, where Morkish stood waiting, his eyes wide with expectation.
"Morkish?" I called out.
"Yes, my King?" he replied, his voice dripping with awe.
"I have a few questions. Since you're likely the eldest here, I expect you to have the answers."
"I will try my best, my King!"
"First, what is our current strength? How many goblins do we have, adults and infants?"
He took a quick look around the damp, chaotic cavern. "Twelve adults, my King. And around eight runts."
A disgrace. I had a "kingdom" of twenty souls, half of whom could barely hold a stick. Then, I asked the question that had been bothering me since I first arrived in this tribe. "And what about the females? Where are they?"
Morkish tilted his head, looking genuinely confused. "What is a... 'Female,' my King?"
"You know," I gestured vaguely, frustrated. "The other gender."
He continued to stare at me, completely puzzled.
"Forget it," I sighed. "How do goblins reproduce?"
"Reproduce?" he repeated, the word tasting strange in his mouth. "I do not know these terms, my Lord. Are they words provided by our God?"
"Yeah, I suppose so," I muttered, more confused than he was. "Fine. Let me put it simply: How do you get more goblins?"
Morkish shrugged, a distracted gesture as he watched the cave floor. "The runts just... appear."
I gave him a look of pure disbelief. "What? You're telling me you just turn your head and there are suddenly more of them?"
"Yeah, sort of." He glanced around the corner of a mossy pillar. "Look. Now we have nine runts now."
I squinted, focusing on a small group of goblins near the far wall. Among a group of three, one was noticeably smaller and greener than the rest. I did a quick headcount; we did indeed have nine runts now.
"And now we're back to eight," Morkish added flatly.
"What?" I whipped my head around. Following Morkish's indifferent gaze, I saw three runts viciously beating another on the ground. The victim wasn't moving. I quickly checked the levels of the three attackers, but none had increased. Either the victim wasn't fully dead yet, or a runt simply didn't provide enough experience to trigger a level-up.
"What just happened?" I asked, my voice dropping an octave.
"Runts being runts," Morkish said, as if explaining the weather. "This happens a lot with the small ones when they fight over scraps."
I felt my blood begin to boil. There I was, selling my soul to a selfish god to raise this race out of the dirt, and these idiots were slaughtering each other over nothing?
I stood up, the stone of the throne scraping against the floor, and walked purposefully toward the three runts. They were so engrossed in celebrating their petty victory that they didn't even notice me approaching.
Without slowing my pace, I launched a kick at the largest of the three. Even though they were small compared to me, this one was clearly the group leader. He went skidding across the dirt.
The other two spun around, baring their jagged teeth in a snarl, until they saw my face. They instantly recoiled, their aggression turning to whimpering terror. The largest wasn't quite as sharp; as soon as he scrambled to his feet, he lunged at me with a primitive screech.
My expression darkened. I didn't dodge. I stepped into his space and delivered a heavy punch that sent him flying back even further. I had pumped some of my latest attribute points into Strength, and the impact sounded like a heavy bag of wet sand hitting the floor. He didn't get back up this time.
These beasts only understood the law of the strongest. Fine. If they wanted a Goblin King, I would start acting like one.
I realized the entire tribe had gathered in a circle around me. The silence in the cave was heavy, broken only by the ragged breathing of the runt I had just leveled.
"Is this what you want?!" I shouted, gesturing wildly at the filth and scrap-heap they called a home.
The goblins stared back with looks of hollow confusion. It was then that I realized the depth of my problem: they didn't know any better. This was their entire world. They "appeared" from thin air, if the shaman was to be believed, only to fight over scraps in the dark, waiting to be slaughtered by adventurers, a king's rage, or their own companions.
I needed to understand this race before I could plan a future, and for that, I needed to know what drove them. In every novel I'd read in my past life, goblins were just mindless scavengers, barely smart enough to point a rusty blade at a low-level warrior. They were cannon fodder. I had a long, grueling road ahead of me if I wanted to change that.
I sighed, rubbing the bridge of my nose. "You," I said, pointing at the Level 2 goblin. Aside from Morkish and myself, he was the highest level in the cave. He was my starting point. "What do you want?"
He trembled, his large, watery eyes blinking in confusion.
I rephrased the question, trying to sound less like a drill sergeant and more like a leader. "What would make you happy? What do you want to do with your life?" I truly didn't know how to reach a mind this primitive.
"I... I want to be boss? Have food?" he said, his voice rising at the end as if he were asking for permission.
I made a mental note and looked at the others. "And the rest of you?"
"Food!" one croaked. "I want food!" another echoed.
"I'm cold..." whimpered a runt from the back.
"I want a weapon! I want to be boss, too!"
It was a start. I could extract two core desires from their scattered answers: primitive survival instincts and a desperate need for status, to "be boss."
"Great. I can give you all of that," I said, nodding slowly. I raised my voice so it echoed off the cavern walls. "I have a plan. A plan to be better. To have more food than you can eat, to conquer the world outside, and to never be hunted again. Would you like that?"
A chorus of frantic nodding followed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Morkish looking at me with a reverence that bordered on worship. The seeds were planted. Now, I just had to make them grow.
"I can give you all of that and more…" I paused, letting the silence hang heavy in the air. "But what can you all do for me?"
They exchanged blank stares. "We... give you food?" someone croaked from the back.
I shook my head slowly. "No. You must obey me. You must follow my words without question."
At that exact moment, the runt I had knocked out scrambled to his feet. With a complete inability to read the room, he shrieked and lunged at me again.
That was the final straw. I didn't need a suicidal idiot trying to kill me every five minutes, especially one with zero awareness of his own weakness. Here I was, trying to drag these green bastards into a better future, and this one was still acting like a rabid animal.
I stepped aside, easily dodging his pathetic attempt at a punch. With a quick sweep of my leg, I sent him crashing to the floor. This time, I didn't hold back.
My mind was a storm of pure, unadulterated rage. All the frustration of being kidnapped by a god, of being shoved into an impossible situation, and of losing my life as a human boiled over. I threw myself onto him and began to rain blows down on his face.
[You have killed Goblin – Lv. 1]
I saw the screen flicker in my peripheral vision, but I didn't stop. I kept punching. Again. And again. Dark blood began to pool on the stone floor, staining my knuckles as the rest of the tribe watched in a horrified, deathly silence.
I don't know how many times I struck him, but when I finally stood up, I was panting, my lungs burning. My mind finally cleared, but I knew I couldn't let the mask slip. I had to maintain the drama. I had to instill a fear so deep they would never dream of crossing me again.
I stretched my arms with a low, satisfied moan, letting the silence stretch out until it became unbearable.
"This," I said, my voice low and dangerous, "is exactly what I do not need."
I flicked my wrists, splattering droplets of blood onto the floor. "I need warriors, not idiots who try to murder their King. You are either useful to me, or you are..." I gestured dismissively at the pulp on the ground. "So, I will ask this only once: are you what I need?"
They nodded vigorously, their eyes wide with terror. Morkish looked at me with more fervish.