"My dear goblin brethren! Must we fight to the death? Let’s make peace—we’re all pups from the same litter!"
Li Qinwu circled cautiously, spear raised, taunting them even as he adjusted his stance. Goblins were low-tier monsters, but their intelligence wasn’t negligible. Seeing his poised spear, they recognized his aggression and closed in with their own weapons.
The tallest whelp, their de facto leader, bellowed: "Kill him! We split the meat!"
He clutched a rock in one hand and a stick in the other—mimicking Li Qinwu’s tactics. Goblins learned fast.
But beasts are still beasts. None could match the cunning of a human soul.
Li Qinwu suddenly pointed behind them, eyes wide with feigned terror: "Ch-Chief! You’re here?!"
The word "Chief" sent ice down their spines. The goblin chief—a hulking, gluttonous nightmare—devoured underperforming hunters. To these whelps, he was both ruler and looming dinner.
The leader whirled around. "Wha—? There’s no one—Oh shit."
His innate slyness screamed trap, but too late. Li Qinwu’s spear rammed into his gut.
"GYAAAAAH!"
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The whelp crumpled, shrieking, snot and tears streaming as he clutched the embedded spear. Li Qinwu yanked—no give. The dying goblin’s grip was iron.
Rocks pelted Li Qinwu’s back as the others realized the ruse. Bruises bloomed, but he snarled: "Fuck this!" Instead of retrieving the spear, he shoved it deeper, twisting.
"GLRK—!"
The goblin spasmed, pinned to the dirt. A final wrench—schlik—the spear tore free, its tip gone. Just a splintered stick remained.
"…Well, *shit."
The three survivors hesitated. Li Qinwu backpedaled, switching tactics: "Family! Must we spill more blood? Look—plenty of ‘food’ already lies here!"
Two goblins paused. Logical. But the third, frothing with rage, charged—
"DIE, GRASS-EATER!"
Li Qinwu’s foot kicked dirt into the attacker’s eyes. "AGH—!" A downward swing of his stick—CRACK—the goblin’s skull dented as it toppled like a felled tree.
[Goblin Whelp slain. EXP +1.]
The effort drained him. Vision swimming, he collapsed. This is it, he thought, awaiting the coup de grace…
…Yet nothing came.
After ten minutes, he stirred. The last two had *fled.
"Pathetic." Li Qinwu spat. Had they attacked together, he’d be dead. But goblins were cowardly, disorganized—easy prey.
Yet danger remained. "If they tell the tribe I can make fire…" The chief wouldn’t recruit him—he’d eat him, believing devouring smart flesh granted wisdom.
Gulping marrow from the femur, he grabbed a spare boar tusk and stalked their trail. Starvation would cripple them soon enough.
Sure enough, 500 meters away, two goblins twitched in hypoglycemic stupors. A quick stab each—
[EXP +3. Level Up!]
[Lv. 0 → 1. Attribute Point +1. Skill Point +1.]
He dumped the point into Vigor (3→4). Instantly, strength surged—his dizziness faded, his frame thickened, his height inched to 0.9m. Adult goblin-tier now.
For his Skill Point, he bypassed Polearms (his broken spear’s category) and chose Athletics (Run Speed). Survival first.
Returning to the battlefield, he bound the sole survivor—the one knocked out by his initial rock.
[Victory!]
- Kills: 7 | Captives: 1
- Loot: Grain x2, Goblin Ears x3, Rock x1
- Denars: 23
The grain (10kg total) thrilled him—a month’s rations! Storage worked like the game: items took one slot regardless of size (6/30 capacity).
Next, Recruitment. His Party Screen (1/20) allowed troops. In Mount & Blade, even peasants charged knights fearlessly. He needed bodies—fast.
Villages recruited with Denars, but prisoners offered another option.
Li Qinwu smirked at his captive, delivering a sharp slap to wake it.
The whelp blinked dizzily as Li Qinwu cupped its pustuled chin, gazing into its jaundiced eyes with theatrical warmth:
"Oh, dearest kin… Join my warband. Together, we’ll herald the Grand Goblin Renaissance!"