《Trapped in a VR MMORPG: A Year Before Beta Test》 Day 1 Noah frantically pawed at his temples, the cold sweat slicking his skin. He¡¯d been fiddling with the VR headset for hours, convinced there had to be a way out. He scrolled through the game window for the hundredth time, each fruitless search amplifying his dread.
CHARACTER
GUILD
BAG
CHAT/CALL
There was no logout button. It wasn¡¯t a bug; it wasn¡¯t a dream. He was trapped. Trapped in DragonWar. Just moments ago, he¡¯d been bartering for rare elixirs in the bustling marketplace of Augusto City, a city perched on the game¡¯s 100th floor. Now? Towering trees surrounded him, their leaves a vibrant, almost unnatural green. A shiver ran down his spine. He knew this forest. The gnarled, moss-covered branches, the distinctive scent of damp earth and pine ¨C it was unmistakable. This was the forest bordering Athur Village, the beginner¡¯s zone. The very first place he¡¯d spawned when he¡¯d initially logged into DragonWar, five years ago. A wave of nostalgia, bittersweet and sharp, washed over him. He remembered the clumsy fumbling with his first sword, the thrill of his first goblin kill, the camaraderie of the other newbies. He longed to return to that simpler time, to the innocence before the cutthroat competition of the higher levels. He¡¯d left Athur Village behind so long ago, eager to climb the ranks, conquer the dungeons, become a legend. Now, he was stranded.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Panic clawed at his throat. He frantically tried to access the game window again, his fingers trembling as they danced over the unresponsive headset.
NAME: Noah LEVEL: 1 (0/100) FACTION: Light
RACE: Human JOB: No Avaible
BARRIER: 10/10 QI/MANA: No SKILL: No
Finally, the character screen flickered into view. His heart plummeted. His avatar, once a formidable level 98 Battle Mage, was now a pathetic level 1. ¡°Darn it!¡± he hissed, slamming his fist against a nearby tree. He remembered a long-forgotten game mechanic: only players level 10 and below could access the first floor and at level 3 he can only enter newbee village. The game creator''s design choices puzzled him. He recalled the arduous grind to level 3, a process that had consumed nearly a week. Even more perplexing was the strength of the goblins; though considered weak monsters, they significantly outmatched new players. This imbalance was further compounded by the fact that job classes, essential for progression, were locked until level 3, leaving players in a vulnerable and frustrating early game. With five years of experience under his belt, Noah was confident he could finish the job in a day, maybe even less. Sword at his side, he set off to find the goblin, determined to reach level 3 before nightfall. Day 2 Noah''s awakening was greeted by the sun''s warmth, a stark contrast to the previous day''s misfortunes. His goblin hunt had been hampered by their unnerving tendency to congregate, limiting his kills. Cautious and unwilling to test the unknown consequences of death, Noah prioritized survival. A nagging question plagued him: where were the other players? Was he alone in this perilous forest? The absence of village hunters further deepened his unease. Normally, they patrolled these woods, keeping the goblin population in check. Now, the creatures numbered nearly a thousand, a dangerous imbalance. Noah knew he needed to level up quickly and find the safety of a village. Descending from his arboreal perch, he set out with renewed determination. His immediate goal: five goblins. After a few hours of searching, he finally located a small group. Five goblins. Enough. The forest path narrowed, perfect for an ambush. Noah gripped his sword, waiting. Five goblins, snarling and brandishing crude clubs, burst from the trees. They charged, a chaotic mass of green skin and sharp teeth. Noah met the first goblin head-on, his sword a blur of steel. He use a newly received ''Sword Strike'' skill, and the goblin fell. He spun, deflecting a clumsy club swing from another. The fight was a whirlwind of motion, goblins shrieking, clubs whistling. Noah¡¯s sword found its mark again and again, until the last goblin, eyes wide with fear, stumbled and fell.The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Silence. Five goblins lay dead.
NAME: Noah LEVEL: 3 (2/300) FACTION: Light
RACE: Human JOB: No
BARRIER: 2/10 QI/MANA: No SKILL: Sword Strike (F)
..... A sense of unease prickled Noah''s skin as he slipped through the unguarded gates of Arthur Village. The familiar path stretched before him, yet everything felt disturbingly different. The vibrant hum of village life was absent, replaced by an eerie silence. Houses stood empty, doors ajar, as if their occupants had vanished moments before. The marketplace, once bustling with activity, was deserted, stalls bare and forlorn. Noah wandered through the ghostly streets, a chill creeping into his heart. Arthur Village, frozen in time, was a chilling testament to an unknown and unsettling absence. Where had everyone gone? Day 3 The sun beat down on Noah¡¯s back as he strode towards the temple. "Right, warrior it is," he muttered, a grin spreading across his face. "And I''ve got just the skill for it ¨C Sword Strike! Perfect for smashing goblins¡­or whatever else this crazy world throws at me." He glanced at the deserted market stalls, the perfectly arranged produce a stark reminder of the village''s strangeness. "Seriously, though," he mumbled, "where is everyone?" The image of the dragon statue spurred him on. "Imagine," he mused, "me, Noah, the mighty warrior! Wielding a legendary sword, cleaving through hordes of enemies¡­with my awesome Sword Strike!" He chuckled. "Okay, maybe not legendary yet. But it''s a start." He flexed his arm, then immediately felt silly doing so. "Show off later, Noah," he told himself. "Focus on the job class." He wasn¡¯t drawn to magic, archery, or thievery. "Magic''s too complicated," he muttered. "Sword Strike is way more my style. Point sword, swing hard. Simple. Efficient. Effective." He shook his head. "And archery? Too much waiting. I''m a run-in-and-smash kind of guy. Besides," he added, "this place is creepy enough without me sneaking around."Stolen story; please report. The temple loomed ahead. "Alright, temple time," he said, pushing open the heavy wooden doors. The sound echoed through the silent village. "Let''s see if this dragon statue can give me the warrior job." He grinned, letting his imagination run wild. "Okay, okay, calm down, Noah," he told himself. "Adolfillia in dragon form still looks cute." He walked towards the Wind Dragon statue. The dragon statue shimmered, the choices swirling before him: Warrior, Magician, Archer, Thief. He touched the cold stone, a jolt confirming his Warrior path. A rusty sword, worn leather armor, and three healing potions materialized. Noah grinned, the worn leather suddenly feeling like the finest plate. Adventure called.
NAME: Noah LEVEL: 3 (2/300) FACTION: Light
RACE: Human JOB: Warrior
BARRIER: 10/10 QI/MANA: 50/50 SKILL: Sword Strike (F) Warrior Will (E)
Noah can feel the same feeling as before, when he first came here¡ªan excitement that he now feels again. "The goblin horde''s reign of terror ends now. Steel meets flesh, the massacre begins! Hahahaha!" Day 4
NAME: Noah LEVEL: 6 (240/600) FACTION: Light
RACE: Human JOB: Warrior
BARRIER: 10/10 QI/MANA: 210/210 SKILL: Sword Strike (F) Warrior Will (E)
Noah¡¯s frown deepened, his gaze fixed on his character sheet. ¡°Three levels? That¡¯s all?¡± He¡¯d faced a massive goblin horde, a sea of green, yet his reward was meager.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°Something¡¯s wrong.¡± He paced, frustration evident. ¡°No king, no elites¡­ just endless goblins. It should have been a level bonanza!¡± Smaller encounters had yielded greater experience. He stopped, tapping his chin. ¡°Maybe an experience dampener in this area? Or are these goblins¡­ different?¡± They seemed normal during the attack, but perhaps they were exceptionally weak, low-level goblins massed together. It was the only logical explanation. Still, it felt off. ¡°I need to investigate,¡± Noah declared. ¡°There¡¯s more to this. Why are they all here, leaderless? This could be bigger than a simple goblin hunt.¡± He sensed a deeper mystery, a hidden reason behind the unusual goblin gathering. He was determined to uncover it. Finally, able to exchange his skill books, Noah acquired a D-grade skill. He mused over his options: another skill for his arsenal or a helpful pill. Leveling up offered this choice, a unique system without traditional stats. Pills came in two types: Barrier for defense, or Mana/Qi to enhance his energy. A tough decision awaited. The grand library stood silent, its obsidian and marble facade gleaming under the soft light. Inside, Noah approached the crystal exchange counter, the only sound the gentle hum of latent magic. He placed his worn skill books on the cool surface, activating the automated system. A holographic display shimmered, offering a selection of D-grade skills. Noah¡¯s gaze swept over ¡°Stone Skin,¡± ¡°Angering Blow,¡± ¡°Shadow Step,¡± and ¡°Will to Live,¡± but his thoughts returned to the overwhelming goblin horde. He closed his eyes, visualizing their relentless advance, and then opened them, his decision made. He touched the icon for ¡°Cry of War.¡± ¡°Skill acquired,¡± a soft voice echoed. Noah nodded, a sense of purpose filling him. He left the library, the heavy door closing behind him, ready to test his new skill. Day 5 The air, thick with the metallic tang of goblin blood, thrummed with the echoes of battle. Noah surveyed the carnage. Hundreds of goblins lay scattered across the forest floor, testament to the devastating effectiveness of his new skill: Cry of War. A grim satisfaction settled over him. "Not bad," he muttered, the understatement barely masking the thrill that coursed through him. The Cry had been like bowling pins, he¡¯d thought as he¡¯d waded into the throng of level 1-4 goblins, just knocking ¡®em down with each concussive pulse. The skill, a symphony of destruction, had carved a path through their ranks until the forest floor resembled a grotesque mosaic of broken bodies. "Clean sweep," he¡¯d declared, the residual energy crackling in the air. Risky, draining his mana, but necessary.
NAME: Noah LEVEL: 7 (4/700) FACTION: Light
RACE: Human JOB: Warrior
BARRIER: 6/10 QI/MANA: 150/320 SKILL: Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. Sword Strike (F) Will of Warrior (E) War of Cry (D)
Finally! He pumped a fist in the air. "No more grinding these weaklings." The grind was over, for now. A sense of strengthening, a readiness for deeper challenges, filled him. "Alright, level 7," he mused, a glint in his eye, "let''s see what you''ve got." The dead goblins, a grim testament to his earlier efforts, confirmed his suspicions. Lower-level goblins were a waste of time; the experience gain minimal. "Waste of time," he grumbled, glancing toward the denser trees, the second zone. Level 7. The whispers of higher-level goblins no longer sounded like a death knell, but a challenge, an opportunity. "Time to step up the game," he said, a predatory edge to his voice. The Cry of War had proven its worth. Now, it was time to test it against tougher foes. He sheathed his sword, the metallic click echoing in the sudden quiet, and stepped toward the shadows. "Let''s do this," he whispered, the hunt just begun. Later, the thrill of the hunt faded, replaced by a gnawing loneliness. Stranded and alone, Noah¡¯s desperation to reach level ten intensified. No humans, a broken communication system, and hostile goblins made his isolation palpable. He¡¯d even tried to connect with the low-intelligence goblins, attempted conversation, only to be met with snarling attacks. This desolate world offered no companionship, only the constant struggle to survive and level up. The loneliness gnawed at him, a constant ache. He missed human connection. Even the mindless grind had been a distraction. Now, the silence was deafening, broken only by rustling leaves and guttural goblin cries. He pushed the thoughts away, focusing on the task at hand. Level 10. That was the goal, a beacon in the darkness, a symbol of progress, a promise of something better. He had to keep moving, keep fighting, keep leveling. He was alone, but he wasn''t broken. Not yet. Day 6 "Hey everyone, One Hand Noah here! Even the mightiest goblin slayer needs a day off, right? So, treasure hunt time!" He gestured dramatically with his one good hand, the other resting limply by his side. "Found this old map ¨C leads to Arthur Village. Think we''ll find gold? Lost artifacts? Or just cobwebs and grumpy spiders? Chat, what do you think is waiting for us?" Noah''s fake streaming is a lonely charade. He pretends to connect with an audience, hoping to fill the void of his isolation and find some semblance of solace. In past, Noah had been among the first to stream the game. He¡¯d a career, a community, a connection. He¡¯d even bought a new VRcam and VRmicrophone, eager to share his adventures. But the reality had been harsh. Unlike many RPGs where you can customize every detail of your character, DragonWar restricts this. You can''t change your character''s fundamental traits because they are based on who you are in real life.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. He wasn¡¯t handsome, like the top streamers. His jokes fell flat. Viewers drifted away, their comments turning from polite encouragement to cruel mockery. Eventually, he gave up. "If I can design a beautiful loli for my character, will it make me popular and successful, or is there more to it than that?" Noah, tracing the faded lines of the ancient map, muttered to himself, "Arthur...Sword Saint, then Dark Dragon...what a story." He ran a finger over a particularly worn section. "Four years ago, they whispered his name like a legend. Three years later, boom! DragonWar''s final boss. Crazy." He paused, a frown creasing his brow. "But the treasure...that''s what gets me. This map shouldn''t even exist. The treasure''s supposed to be long gone." He held the map up to the dim light. "So, what is this? A mistake? A fake? Or..." His voice dropped to a whisper, a flicker of excitement in his eyes. "Or did those player get it wrong? What secrets are you hiding, Arthur? What secrets are you hiding?" "Alright," Noah muttered, unfolding the brittle map with his good hand. "The treasure''s gotta be here...one of these houses. Five hundred years old...a long shot, but hopefully some info survived." He scanned the deserted village square, wishing he could ask someone. "Darn it, no one. A thousand houses..." he sighed. Better than that Fucking forest, though. He glanced at his bandaged stump, wincing. "With this hand...my strength''s halved," he mumbled, worry gnawing at him. Day 7 Noah, ever the strategist, focused his search in a house near the village temple. "Older homes," he muttered, "always cluster around the central point." The village''s unsettling emptiness, while eerie, offered a chance to think clearly. "Going into houses..." he mumbled, "...that needs...well, it would need a lot of confidence if anyone was actually here." He almost felt sorry for anyone using Arthur''s map. "So much time," he thought, "to build trust with each homeowner...if there were any homeowners left." Yesterday had been good. Really good. After a methodical search, he''d found it. The treasure. "Finally," he sighed. Relief washed over him. It was a reward for his patience. He thought about the challenges. "Empty village," he murmured. "No one around...and so many houses." His success was all down to his careful planning. "Quiet streets," he mused, "unnerving at first, but they helped me concentrate." Now, the treasure was his. With trembling hands and a pounding heart, he faced the dragon''s treasure chest.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. To obtain it, the player needed to complete many quests, so it must contain high-level treasure. "Come on, come on," Noah muttered, his fingers fumbling with the lock. "What ancient wonders, what unimaginable riches lay within?" He could barely contain his excitement as he prepared to unlock the secrets held within the ornate chest. Noah''s eyes widened. A single, blood-red pill nestled within the bottle. He recognized it instantly. Despite the solitary nature of the find, a thrill of excitement coursed through him. This lone pill, he knew, was potent. He carefully capped the bottle, a sense of anticipation building. He knew its properties, its potential. This crimson capsule held the key. In the realm of DragonWar, players begin their journey as humans. However, destiny can be altered with a mystical item: the race change pill. Consuming this rare artifact allows players to transcend their human form and embrace the powers and abilities of a new race, opening up a world of strategic possibilities. In this world, humanity is categorized as weak, so the transformation of the race is Noah''s dream. This pill is Arthur''s, so it must be from a great race, even if Noah doesn''t know what race it can change. Noah swallowed the pill. Almost immediately, a burning sensation spread through his body, like fire in his veins. Agony ripped through him. "What...what have I done?" he gasped, before darkness claimed him. After more than ten hours, Noah finally came out of unconsciousness, Noah immediately looked at his character''s window.
NAME: Noah LEVEL: 7 (4/700) FACTION: Light
RACE: Half-Dragon JOB: Dragon Warrior
BARRIER: 100/100 QI/MANA: 2320/2320 SKILL: Sword Strike (F) War of Cry (D) Dragon''s Gift (S)
Day 8 Noah surveyed the carnage. The forest floor, once teeming with five hundred goblins daily, was now a grotesque tableau of their demise. His newfound power, fueled by a 2000 mana surge and an S-rank skill acquired without the usual fifty skill books (of which he only possessed five), had decimated the horde. Only one trembling goblin remained, a testament to Noah''s devastating revenge. A cold satisfaction settled over him. Reaching level 8 was just the beginning. Level 10 seemed a distant goal, requiring twenty days of monotonous grinding. Boredom gnawed at him. His gaze fell upon the lone survivor, a frightened goblin bearing a familiar wound ¨C the very mark Noah himself had inflicted. An idea sparked in his mind. Instead of ending the goblin¡¯s life, he would¡­ Noah watched the goblin, his chosen leader. An unusual intelligence flickered in the goblin''s eyes, a spark that set him apart from the mindless horde.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Noah felt a thrill of anticipation mixed with the weight of the task ahead. "Tomorrow," he murmured, "tomorrow, we begin." He knew spamming goblins wouldn''t build a kingdom. He needed quality, a refined society, starting with a strong leader and a sustainable foundation. The goblins¡¯ explosive breeding cycle was a powerful tool, but it needed direction. It could be the engine of an empire, or its destruction. Resources were the immediate problem. The forest offered little beyond meager wild fruit. No game to hunt. Goblins might not require meat, but a proper diet was crucial for his elite guard(exp). Farming. They would have to learn. Noah sighed. He would have to teach them. And the location. He couldn''t build this new civilization amidst the spammed goblins. They needed distance, a buffer zone. And they needed¡­ a challenge. Enemies. A force to forge them. Noah''s mind raced, sketching terrain, considering strategic advantages. Elites. The word echoed. Specialized skills, knowledge, rigorous training. It wouldn''t be easy. He imagined training grounds, workshops, even a rudimentary library. He''d teach them a language, governance, a culture. The scope was daunting. He glanced at the goblin, studying a shiny beetle. "And you," Noah whispered, "you will be the cornerstone." Tomorrow, he had another task. A less pleasant one. A leader needed a queen. And a harem. The thought left a bitter taste, but it was a necessity. While not exactly rare ¨C the skewed ratio of one female to every hundred males was well-known. He hoped fortune would favor him. He had a feeling he would need all the luck he could get. Day 9 Noah watched the Goblin King, Arthur, enthusiastically giving directions for the goblins to build a palace for him and his harem. Arthur chattered excitedly in rapid goblin tongue, gesturing wildly with his small, green hands. Noah, having spent enough time with the goblins, understood the general gist. "Make it grand!" Arthur squealed, if Noah had to guess at a translation. "With lots of shiny things!" Noah chuckled. He''d learned some basic goblin, enough to get by, but Arthur''s enthusiasm often outpaced his vocabulary. He tried a simplified version of his usual advice. "Sturdy... important," Noah said slowly, pointing at the wobbly-looking structures already dotting the clearing. He mimed a house collapsing. Arthur waved a dismissive hand, chattering something to a nearby goblin who nodded vigorously and scurried off. Shiny things, it seemed, were far more important. Noah sighed. He''d chosen the nearest forested area as the goblins'' settlement. The area, approximately 500 square meters for the time being, had nearly a third of it cleared, with several wooden houses already completed by the goblins. Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.With over 100 goblins and the equipment Noah provided, the work of cutting down trees and building houses progressed quickly. The goblins'' stamina, higher than that of humans, allowed them to work with minimal rest. "Look, Noah!" Arthur tugged on Noah''s sleeve, pointing at a lopsided structure with a crooked roof. He rattled off a string of goblin words, ending with a triumphant squeak. Noah winced. He glanced at the house. "Arthur," he said slowly, using his limited goblin vocabulary, ¡°¡­wind¡­ strong¡­ fall down?¡± He gestured dramatically, mimicking a house tumbling over. Arthur just grinned and pointed at the roof. He squealed something that sounded like, "Shiny!" Noah''s efforts to instill some sense of structural integrity into Arthur''s palace-building project were clearly failing. Perhaps, Noah thought, the best approach was to simply let nature take its course. When the inevitable collapse occurred, maybe, just maybe, Arthur would learn a valuable lesson about the importance of sound construction. Or maybe he''d just order the goblins to rebuild, incorporating even more shiny things this time. Noah sighed. He really needed to find those picture books on construction. And maybe a good book on disaster relief. He had a feeling he''d be needing it. The setting sun painted the sky in fiery hues as Noah prepared to leave. He glanced at the fledgling goblin village, a haphazard collection of huts. Over a hundred goblins swarmed the clearing, their rough voices filling the air. Arthur, their level 7 king, still had much to learn. Noah sighed; the shelters weren''t finished, but goblins were surprisingly resilient to the night''s chill. Tomorrow, he¡¯d teach them farming, a crucial skill. He needed to gather tools, prepare the land, and calculate the cost of equipment. A daunting task, but Noah¡¯s promise to Arthur was a bond he intended to honor. He trudged into the darkening woods, the weight of responsibility heavy on his shoulders, but a little lighter knowing the goblins could likely handle a chilly night. Day 10 The midday sun beat down on the nascent garden, the parched earth a testament to its desperate need. Noah surveyed the scene, a mix of hope and concern etched on his face. "We need water, Arthur," he reiterated, gesturing to the cracked soil. "A garden can''t grow without it." Arthur, a goblin with dirt ingrained beneath his fingernails and a perpetual air of bewildered concentration, grunted in understanding. "Grok. Grok plants need grok." "Exactly," Noah agreed, his tone encouraging. "So, we need a ditch. All the way around the garden." Arthur nodded, pointing a gnarled finger. "Grok ditch. Grok grok grok." "Good," Noah said. "But the ditch needs water. And the river... the river is far." He held his hands apart, indicating a considerable distance. "Grok long way." Arthur scratched his moss-covered head, his brow furrowed in thought. "Grok river... grok two grok." He mimed digging. "Grok... grok path. Grok grok river grok ditch." He tapped his knuckles together thoughtfully. "Grok grok grok. Grok long grok, but grok do."The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Noah smiled, a flicker of genuine warmth in his eyes. "That''s what I like to hear, Arthur. If we get the water, we''ll have the biggest, best garden in the valley." Arthur grinned, a flash of sharp teeth illuminating his face. "Grok Arthur! Grok goblins! Grok grok garden!" ***** The half-finished water channel gleamed under the midday sun. Noah, ever watchful, guided Arthur and six goblin guards into the dense forest. Their hunt: goblins, particularly females, to bolster Arthur¡¯s personal guard. Each captive would face a choice: bend the knee to Arthur or become a sparring partner. The forest teemed with possibilities ¨C potential recruits and dangerous wild goblins. Noah¡¯s role was clear: protect Arthur, but only as a last resort. He believed in Arthur¡¯s cunning, despite the goblin king¡¯s weakness for shiny trinkets. ¡°This expedition is a trial,¡± Noah muttered to himself, ¡°a lesson in leadership. He¡¯s clever, capable of more than his fascination with glittering objects suggests. This is his chance to prove it.¡± The rustling leaves and eerie silence of the deep forest served as a fitting backdrop to Arthur''s first real test of kingship. Noah had diligently trained Arthur and his guards in basic swordsmanship and formations. He had demonstrated various sword techniques, including his signature Sword Strike. Arthur''s reaction to this particular technique had been nothing short of astonishing. After witnessing Noah perform the complex maneuver just twice, Arthur flawlessly replicated it. This extraordinary feat highlighted Arthur''s exceptional observational abilities, rapid muscle memory development, and innate swordsmanship aptitude. His talent promised a future as a truly remarkable swordsman, a king who could not only command but also fight. Noah watched with a mixture of pride and anticipation, hoping this nascent talent would blossom into true leadership. The forest held its breath, waiting to see what kind of king Arthur would become. Day 11 A guttural croak echoed across the valley. Arthur, gestured with a gnarled finger, his sharp eyes glinting. "Hrrk! Potatoes." He jabbed a clawed hand downwards, mimicking the act of digging. "Hrmm! Corn." A sweeping gesture indicated rows. "Grok!" The sacks of seed were shoved forward, a possessive gleam in his eyes. "Kree!" He mimed the crushing of insects between his fingers, a low growl rumbling in his chest. His goblins, small and wiry, chattered amongst themselves, understanding the crude commands. They scurried to obey, their movements quick and efficient, planting the precious seeds under the watchful gaze of their king. Arthur, king of the goblins, surveyed his meager dwelling. "Grok! More," he signed, his sharp nails clicking against the rough stone.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. He gestured expansively, then pointed at his wives, then at their swelling bellies. "Grok! Babies. Soon." He mimed rocking a cradle, then pointed again at the palace. "Grok! Big. Comfortable." He rubbed his hands together, a gleam in his beady eyes. "Grok! Soft. Warm." He stamped his foot, the ground trembling slightly. "Grok! Now! Two weeks!" He then added, a note of urgency in his voice, "Grok! Upgrade palace. Ready before tomorrow! Grok! And," he added, his eyes narrowing, "Grok! More shiny things!" The goblins, understanding the unspoken commands of their king and the urgency of goblin gestation, erupted into a frenzy of activity. They chittered and squealed, already envisioning the grand palace that needed to rise fast at Arthur¡¯s silent bidding, now also adorned with a dazzling array of shiny trinkets. Meanwhile... Female goblins are a rare and precious commodity, and Arthur''s kingdom (village) desperately needs them. Noah, frankly bored with the monotony of life in the goblin kingdom (village), volunteers for a mission. It''s not a difficult one, just a change of scenery. He and the Goblin King''s bodyguard head to the forest, their task simple: "acquire" any female goblins they find. Male goblins encountered along the way become convenient targets for Noah to unleash some pent-up energy, serving as training dummies and a source of experience points in his otherwise dull existence. Day 12 The female goblin capture mission proceeded at an accelerated pace today, driven by the fact that not only was Arthur expecting offspring, but so were his six elite bodyguards. Seven new mouths to feed... and seven new reasons for Arthur to be distracted. This shared paternal anticipation fueled Noah''s ruthless efficiency as he scoured the forest, eliminating any goblin encountered. Gotta thin the herd. Can''t have them overrunning the place. Fortune smiled upon their endeavor; Noah''s search yielded an impressive eleven female goblins. Eleven? That''s... a lot. Hope Arthur knows what he''s doing. This brought their current count to 250 male goblins and 23 females, six of whom were already Arthur''s consorts. Still a massive imbalance. Wonder how long before things get... complicated. Noah''s perception of goblins had undergone a significant shift. He no longer subscribed to the common belief that they were inherently driven by uncontrollable lust. Guess I was wrong about that.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. His observations revealed a surprising tenderness within goblin society. They demonstrated a deep romantic attachment to their mates, particularly during pregnancy. The male goblins exhibited a strong desire to remain close to their expectant partners, prioritizing their health and well-being. They treated their wives not as mere possessions, but as cherished queens, highlighting a level of emotional complexity previously unseen by Noah. Huh. More civilized than I gave them credit for. Maybe Arthur''s onto something. This newfound understanding challenged his preconceived notions and painted a more nuanced picture of goblin culture. Still doesn''t mean I trust them, though. The goblins, dedicated to Arthur''s kingdom, prioritize their work above all else. Unpaired goblins show little interest in marriage, preferring to focus on building the best realm for their king. However, a gift of a female goblin from Arthur would be received with pride, fulfilling both their king''s wishes and their natural desires, while still maintaining their commitment to the kingdom''s prosperity. Efficient little buggers. Loyal, too. Makes my job easier, I suppose. Noah''s discovery of the goblin-cultivated potato and corn fields was remarkable. The crops, barely a day old, already displayed vigorous growth, likely due to the exceptionally pure air and optimal climate. These spuds are growing like weeds. And corn, too? Who knew? Despite the goblins'' perceived lack of intelligence, they proved surprisingly adept at mimicking Noah''s demonstrated planting techniques. Monkey see, monkey do, I guess. But it works. Using the provided tools, they flawlessly replicated his actions, transforming the landscape into a burgeoning testament to the power of simple instruction and the surprisingly fertile environment. This unexpected agricultural success underscored the goblins'' capacity for learning and adaptation, challenging preconceived notions about their abilities. Maybe they''re not so dumb after all. Just... different. Arthur, level 9, and his six bodyguards, all level 8¡­ tempting. One swift move, and I could be level 9. But¡­ look at them. Those¡­ those faces. Like puppies. Innocent. Almost¡­ like my own kids. Could I really? No. I can''t. Not worth it. Not for a level. Not for anything. Day 13 "More meat?" Arthur grokked, guilt flickering beneath amusement. The raw meat smell hung heavy, a constant reminder of his goblins'' hunger. Their well-being, though costly for Noah, was Arthur''s burden. Noah sighed. "Don''t remind me. This is bleeding me dry. A hundred goblins, each with a dragon''s appetite. They eat more than they mine." He gestured to the line of goblins, their hunger obvious. Loyal, hardworking, but with bottomless stomachs. "Enthusiastic eaters," Arthur murmured, knowing they consumed far more than they produced. He''d been¡­ vague¡­ about resources. He was their king, protecting them. Grok! His goblins. Grok! His responsibility. "Working hard and eating hard," Noah grumbled. "Bankrupt at this rate. This meat problem is worse than the goblins. And baffling! This forest is barren." Arthur shifted. He knew of other resources, but hesitated. He''d already given up the silver mine¡ªor what he claimed was the silver mine. Noah knew about the gold. Grok! Keep secrets. Grok! Survival. "Perhaps," Arthur ventured, "other¡­ sustenance sources. The forest is vast." Noah¡¯s eyes narrowed. "Other sources? My hunters found nothing. This place is barren." Arthur fidgeted. "Well¡­ rumors¡­ of¡­ a large¡­ fungal growth¡­ edible, supposedly." Grok! Lies.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Noah raised an eyebrow. "Fungal growth? You forgot to mention this when you told me about the gold and silver? Especially considering the lack of anything else?" Arthur stammered, "It¡­ slipped my mind. Besides, they are far. And¡­ fungi¡­ unpredictable. Some goblins¡­ trying moss." Noah laughed humorlessly. "Moss? That''s your solution? I''m trying to build a mining empire, not a goblin salad bar. This forest is empty." Arthur remained silent. Grok! Don''t tell him. Noah sighed. "I need a sustainable way to feed these goblins. This meat is bankrupting me. This hinges on it. This charade has to stop." Arthur blurted out, "The¡­ the mine. The silver mine. It''s¡­ bigger. And¡­ some goblins found¡­ clay. They seem to¡­ enjoy it." Noah stared. "Clay? You knew about this? You knew there was enough silver¡ªand gold¡ªand you let me waste money on meat?" Arthur wrung his hands. "I¡­ wasn''t sure. I didn''t want you to¡­ take everything." Noah¡¯s expression hardened. "Arthur¡­ you hid the gold, downplayed the silver, and now tell me my workforce is eating dirt? They''ll be weak! And you knew all along." Noah took a deep breath. "Tell me everything about this clay. Then we¡¯ll talk about the silver and gold mines. If this clay is temporary, I need a long-term solution. No more secrets. We''re partners."
NAME: Arthur LEVEL : 9 (Max 10) FACTION: Dark
RACE: High-Goblin JOB: Goblin King
BARRIER: 150/150 QI/MANA: 450/450 SKILL: King''s Greed (A) Gold Control (A) Sword Strike (F)
Day 14 After selling the silver and gold ingots at the blacksmith''s store, Noah felt a surge of relief. "Finally," he muttered to himself, the heavy weight in his pouch replaced with the satisfying clink of coins. "I could buy up nearly every establishment in this sleepy village if I wanted." He eyed the bakery. "Sweet rolls..." Then the tailor. "Vibrant fabrics..." His gaze drifted to the dusty old bookstore. "Even that could be mine." But Noah was no fool. "True prosperity isn''t about ownership," he reminded himself, "it''s about sustainability." He considered the butcher shop. "Tempting, but..." He glanced at the surrounding forest. "No animals. Just goblin. Limited and, frankly, unappetizing." He shook his head. "Buying that shop would mean selling only goblin meat." "And that''s a much bigger problem than just a lack of variety," he mused. "It would disrupt the entire food chain, impacting the kingdom of Arthur itself. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. The kingdom relies on a diverse food supply. Cutting off traditional meat sources... shortages, unrest..." Noah knew he had to think bigger. "A long-term solution," he murmured. "A way to replenish the animal population." His thoughts turned to livestock. "If I could introduce and breed livestock... a sustainable food source for the goblins." He nodded slowly. "That would benefit the village and contribute to the stability of the kingdom." He patted his coin-filled pouch. "This isn''t just about personal gain, it''s a responsibility." As Noah journeyed out of the village, a convenience store caught his eye, its shelves stocked with chicken and duck eggs. "Eggs?" he said, surprised. "Goblins don''t eat eggs." He''d never considered buying them before. But then, a novel idea sparked in his mind. "What if... what if I tried to hatch them?" He looked at the eggs with new interest. "Could I successfully incubate them and bring forth live chicks?" A small smile played on his lips. "Raising a small flock, independent of the goblin diet... intriguing." He wondered. "Are these store-bought eggs even fertile? Do I even know how to do this?" The thought lingered, a seed of possibility planted in his mind. "Chicken eggs," he recalled, "hatch in about three weeks, maybe sooner here." He considered the requirements. "Humid environment, 37 to 39 degrees Celsius... and I have to turn them every two or three days." He sighed. "Time-consuming, but..." He brightened. "A successful hatch would liberate the kingdom from reliance on the butcher!" He chuckled. "And though goblins disdain eggs, they love chicken meat! Doubly advantageous!" He nodded decisively. Arriving at Arthur''s, Noah saw Arthur jesting with his wife, and again wondered: who was the real goblin king? Day 15 Noah, a man prone to quiet contemplation, found himself grappling with a paradox. The goblin kingdom, a realm he and Arthur had helped shape, presented a stark contrast: flourishing farms and an unusual tranquility juxtaposed with ramshackle homes and an ostentatious palace. "It''s¡­baffling," he murmured. "We helped them build this, yet¡­" He trailed off, his gaze sweeping over the dilapidated dwellings. "Why the disparity?" He recalled the construction guides, the detailed instructions. "Did they misunderstand? Is it a cultural thing? Or did something¡­change?" His thoughts drifted to DragonWar, a world equally perplexing. Reaching level 9 offered a tantalizing taste of level 10, but the game was a broken mess. Empty towns, missing NPCs, and a distinct lack of challenging creatures painted a picture of incompleteness. "It''s not just buggy," he mused. "It''s¡­premature." Only goblins populated this digital wasteland, their repetitive presence and rudimentary AI reinforcing his suspicions. "Just goblins," he¡¯d muttered. "Placeholder content." The sheer volume of them, their ubiquitous presence, suggested a desperate attempt to fill a void. "They just spammed goblins everywhere," he concluded. But it felt earlier than a beta test. "This isn''t even functional," he thought. "It''s¡­pre-alpha?" The missing features, the lack of polish, the pervasive sense of incompleteness ¨C it all pointed to a version far earlier than any public release.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. "It''s like I''m in the game''s embryonic stage," he mused, "before it even became a game." The goblin kingdom, a world he and Arthur had directly influenced, mirrored this sense of incompleteness. The thriving farms and peaceful atmosphere hinted at a potential, much like the idea of a finished game. But the crumbling homes and extravagant palace betrayed a fundamental imbalance, much like the bugs and missing content of DragonWar. "It''s the same feeling," he thought. "Of something unfinished, something¡­missing." He paused, a realization dawning. "We created this kingdom," he whispered. "Arthur and I. We put him on the throne." The palace''s opulence, he now understood, wasn''t just random; it was a direct consequence of Arthur''s kingship, a symbol of his power and the kingdom''s skewed priorities. The dilapidated homes weren''t simply neglected; they were a byproduct of this shift in focus. Resources flowed towards the palace, towards solidifying Arthur¡¯s reign, leaving little for individual dwellings. "It''s not their fault," he realized. "It''s¡­our fault. Or mine, at least." He had set the wheels in motion, and this was the result. The game and the kingdom, he saw, were connected in more ways than he¡¯d imagined. The game¡¯s goblins were a simplified version, devoid of the social complexity he now witnessed in Arthur''s kingdom. These goblins, under Arthur¡¯s rule, had evolved, their society shaped by Noah¡¯s actions. He wasn''t just trapped in a buggy game; he was trapped in a world he had helped create, both in the digital realm and in this strange, new reality. Day 16 In the sprawling world of DragonWar, a shadow looms large: Dark Dragon, a corrupted Light faction dragon, whose ambition knows no bounds. He craves absolute power, aiming to subjugate all of DragonWar and shatter the very foundation of the faction system, a relic from the ancient Godwar era. These factions, initially intended as a divine gift, have devolved into sources of constant strife and division. Noah, a seasoned player, observes the unfolding events with a critical eye, recognizing the obsolete nature of the factions. "A gift from a bygone era," he muses, "but now, in the Dragon era, they''re more of a burden, breeding racism and hindering progress." Dark Dragon''s villainous scheme serves as a stark reminder of the urgent need for change, forcing a reckoning with this outdated legacy and, hopefully, paving the way for a more unified future. Noah''s thoughts drift to Arthur, the goblin king, a figure of significance in his own journey. He believes Arthur possesses the potential to lead his tribe to safety amidst the growing turmoil. A daring idea sparks in Noah''s mind: what if Arthur could switch to the Light faction? This strategic move could shield his loyal goblins from the relentless onslaught of new players seeking easy experience points. Noah remembers a crucial piece of information: Dark Dragon''s treasure hoard contains a Race Change Pill. Could this be the key to altering Arthur''s faction allegiance and, in turn, saving the goblin tribe?The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Noah''s connection to Arthur runs deep. He considers the goblins, Arthur''s tribe, as his own family, in a way. He recalls a grim encounter where a Light NPC heartlessly ganked a low-level player for a mere copper piece. This incident, along with others, paints a picture of hypocrisy and moral ambiguity within the Light faction, challenging the simplistic narrative of good versus evil. "Just because they sparkle doesn''t mean they''re saints," he mutters, remembering the two-faced Light NPCs he''d encountered in Arthur''s kingdom. He''d witnessed Light NPCs betray each other for loot, their smiles masking treacherous intentions. Meanwhile, the goblins, though inherently goblins, were simply trying to survive. Noah understands their plight, envisioning hordes of players descending upon Arthur''s village, swords flashing, spells flying, all eager to level up. He knows the grim reality of the game mechanics, the endless cycle of new players exploiting weaker NPCs. "Another casualty of a rigged war," he concludes, a heavy premonition settling in his gut as he makes his way toward Arthur''s village. The thought of Arthur and his goblins facing such a fate fills Noah with a sense of urgency. He knows he must act, and the Race Change Pill seems like the only viable solution. The fate of the goblin tribe hangs in the balance, resting on Noah''s ability to navigate the complex political landscape of DragonWar and convince Arthur to make the crucial switch. Noah thinks he knows how to create one himself. To create race change pill, most important is about high race blood essence. Can his blood essence use for it. Although he only half-dragon, but it a high race in DragonWar. And he can fell bloode essence in his body. Day 17 Noah gazed at the crimson pill in his trembling hand, a testament to his arduous efforts. He had finally succeeded in crafting the race change pill, a feat he had dedicated himself to for so long. But the victory felt hollow, overshadowed by the crippling weakness that had seized his body. His skin was ashen, drained of all color, and his limbs felt like lead. Standing was an impossibility; he could only manage a slow, agonizing crawl towards his bed, a mere four meters away. The simple journey took an excruciating ten minutes, each inch gained a battle against his failing strength. Collapsing onto the mattress, Noah closed his eyes, hoping that sleep would bring some respite. Six hours later, he awoke to the same debilitating weakness. The extraction of blood essence, the crucial ingredient for the pill, had taken a devastating toll. Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. He hadn''t anticipated such a severe reaction, and a chilling fear crept into his heart. How long would this last? He prayed it wouldn''t be for long, yet a grim premonition told him otherwise. Fortunately, Noah had been prepared. His bag was well-stocked with provisions ¨C dried meats, preserved fruits, and ample water. Without these, he knew he would be facing starvation on top of his already weakened state. He thought of Arthur, his companion. Arthur would likely be concerned by his absence at the Goblin Kingdom, their intended destination. But Arthur, despite his loyalty, was powerless to help. The village, where Noah now lay incapacitated, was warded against outsiders. Arthur couldn''t penetrate its magical defenses, leaving Noah to face this crisis alone. Noah knew he had to recover, and quickly, but the path back to health seemed long and uncertain. This "pill" Noah created for Arthur wasn''t actually a pill at all. It was a clever manipulation of blood essence, sealed with mana to create a pill-like form. This crucial difference meant Noah didn''t need to be an alchemist to craft it, a fortunate circumstance given his current weakened state. The process, thankfully, was surprisingly simple. Had it been complex, his efforts would have been futile. The ease of creation was a blessing, allowing him to potentially help Arthur overcome his present predicament. Day 18 Arthur gazed towards the village gate from his palace balcony. Just two days. Only two days since Noah vanished. "Two days," he grumbled, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. "Grok. It''s nothing, really. He''s probably just¡­ busy." He knew he was lying. Noah wasn''t the type to simply disappear, not without a word, not after¡­ well, not after everything. "Grok. The bodyguard thinks he''s gone," he continued, his voice barely a whisper. "Gone to that¡­ window of two worlds. Bah!" He scoffed. "Grok. As if Noah would just leave without saying goodbye." He glanced at his hand, clenching it into a fist. "I know he''s still there. Grok. I can feel it." He knew it was just a hunch, a gut feeling, but Arthur had learned to trust his instincts. "But what can I do?" he asked the empty air. "Grok. The Light Faction village¡­ it''s like a wall. A wall the gods themselves built." He scowled.If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it. "Damn this Faction System. Damn it all!" He turned away from the gate, his gaze falling on the training grounds below his palace. His bodyguards were barking orders, trying to instill some semblance of combat skills into the motley crew of goblins that comprised his army. "Seven. Grok. Only seven who can actually fight," he mumbled, shaking his head. "A king with seven soldiers. What a joke." He sighed. "At least they''re learning something. Maybe, just maybe, if they''re strong enough¡­" He trailed off, the thought unfinished. Strong enough for what? To storm the Light Faction village? To defy the gods themselves? The idea was both ludicrous and tempting. He started walking away from the balcony, deeper into his palace, his mind still swirling with thoughts of Noah. "Two days," he repeated to himself. "Grok. It''s not enough. Something''s wrong. I just¡­ I just don''t know what." He reached the door of his private chambers, the crude paintings on the walls seeming to mock him. His wives were waiting for him, their faces expectant. He forced a smile onto his face. "Duty calls," he whispered, the words laced with a bitter irony. "Even a king has to play his part." He stepped inside, the image of Noah''s face still burned into his mind. He needed to forget about Noah now. He needed to do what he must. Without Noah here.. Arthur now enjoys a blissful existence. He luxuriates, sleeping on piles of gleaming, shiny things, surrounded by his wives. It''s a scene of opulent comfort, a personal heaven he''s created. No more worries, just pure, unadulterated pleasure in his golden paradise. He''s finally found peace and contentment. Day 19 Arthur picks up the broken sword, turning it slowly in his hands. The light catches the jagged edge, glinting dully. Grok. This¡­ this is all that¡¯s left of it. A memento of his own stupidity. His own¡­ darkness. Grok. He spits the word out like a bitter taste. He looks at it, and he doesn''t see a weapon anymore. He sees a mirror. A reflection of the monster he almost became. Grok. He lets out a shaky breath, the memory of the forest flashing before his eyes. His fingers instinctively trace the jagged scar that bisects his left cheek, a constant reminder of that brutal encounter. The forest¡­ the goblins¡­ Grok. Gods, what was he thinking? So consumed by hatred, by this burning need to¡­ to prove himself. Prove himself worthy? Worthy of what? Of being as ruthless as he thought he needed to be? He was so blinded by the lies he told himself. Grok. Noah¡­ he saw him as the enemy. A Light faction member. A target. Just a thing to be eliminated. Grok. Ironically, it was Noah''s actions, his mercy, that had ultimately led to Arthur''s ascension. After their clash, after Arthur''s humiliating defeat and the permanent mark Noah had left, the goblins, witnessing Noah¡¯s unexpected compassion ¨C sparing Arthur''s life ¨C had begun to see Arthur in a new light. They saw not weakness, but a strange, twisted kind of strength. A strength tempered by¡­ something else. Something they didn''t understand, but something they respected. They saw him as touched by a powerful force, someone who had faced Noah and lived. And in their brutal, goblin way, that made him worthy. He clenches his fist, the broken sword digging into his palm.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. The ambush¡­ the goblins falling¡­ Grok. He closes his eyes, wincing. And then, the moment. The lunge. His face¡­ the surprise¡­ the pain¡­ He remembers the sickening thud as his blade connected, not where he aimed, but still¡­ a strike. Noah¡¯s left hand, severed, falling to the forest floor. But even as he landed that blow, Noah, with a speed Arthur hadn''t anticipated, had lashed out. A searing pain exploded across his face, the world momentarily going white. He shakes his head, trying to dislodge the image of the blood, the shock in Noah¡¯s eyes, and the burning agony of the gash that now marred his face. Grok. It should have been a moment of triumph. It should have been¡­ but it wasn¡¯t. It was¡­ sickening. And the worst part? He failed. He failed to even finish what he started. But¡­ that failure¡­ it saved him. Grok. It had also, strangely, made him. He looks around at the treasures, a dismissive wave of his hand. All this¡­ it means nothing. Less than nothing. Shiny trinkets compared to¡­ to him. Noah. A soft smile touches his lips, even as his fingers brush the scar. Grok. It¡¯s strange, isn¡¯t it? The man he tried to kill¡­ the man he wounded¡­ the man who marked him¡­ He¡¯s¡­ he¡¯s everything he¡¯s not. Everything he wishes he could be. Strong, yes, but not just physically. He¡¯s¡­ he¡¯s good. Truly good. He cares. He sacrifices. He believes. And he¡­ he tried to take that away. Grok. He clutches the broken sword to his chest. He saw him as an enemy, but he¡­ he¡¯s a mentor. Almost¡­ almost a father. The father he never had. And he tried to¡­ His voice cracks, and he swallows hard. Grok. He doesn¡¯t deserve his forgiveness. He doesn¡¯t deserve his respect. But¡­ he¡¯s going to earn it. He¡¯s going to learn from him. He¡¯s going to change. Grok. And he knows¡­ he knows he¡¯ll guide him. Not as an enemy, but¡­ as the man he should have looked up to all along. This broken sword¡­ it¡¯s not just a reminder of his past. It¡¯s a promise. A promise to be better. A promise to become someone worthy of his¡­ of his¡­ fatherly gaze. Grok. And this scar¡­ he touches it again¡­ this scar will forever remind him of his shame, and of the man he now strives to emulate. And of the strange twist of fate that made him Goblin King. Arthur must evolve, becoming a stronger leader for his kingdom and a steadfast ally to Noah. He needs to embrace change, honing his skills and resolve to protect his people and stand by his friend. Day 20 Arthur grunted, sweat beading on his green skin. Coins...still jittery. Grok. He focused, visualizing the glint of gold, each coin a tiny sun in his mind. Grok Gold Control...strong. His Mana pulsed outwards, a gentle current instead of a harsh command. Finesse...not force. The coins, at first rebellious, aligned, orbiting him like miniature moons. He held the connection, a low hum vibrating in his chest. Tired...but must. Grok. This control, this mastery over the very essence of gold, was crucial. Births...soon. Grok Need strength. He dismissed the coins with a flick of his wrist. Cradle. He turned to the pile of scrap metal. Small...for little ones. All his wives watched, their swollen bellies heavy with his children. He made a clicking sound with his teeth, a gesture of reassurance to them all. They smiled back, their eyes filled with affection. They knew the importance of his training. Grok Gold Control...more than coins. He extended his Mana again. Metal...together. The scraps danced in the air, guided by his will. He pointed at one piece, then another, his wives watching with quiet anticipation. This wasn''t just building a cradle; it was honing his control, extending its reach. Grok Gold Control...finesse, strength, control. He mimed the shape of a baby, then frowned. Noah...where? He hadn''t seen his friend in days. A gnawing worry settled in his gut. Births...soon. He needed Noah. Stolen novel; please report. He touched a piece of metal, then another, his brow furrowed in concentration. Strong...must be strong. He visualized the cradle, smooth and sturdy. He made another clicking sound, this time of frustration. The pieces weren''t fitting. Wrong. One of his wives, sensing his frustration, approached cautiously. She pointed at a specific piece of metal, then mimed the act of bending. Arthur grunted, understanding dawning. Ah...yes. He manipulated the metal, bending it with his Mana. It fit perfectly. He made a small, rumbling sound of satisfaction. Almost...ready. He glanced at his wives, a flicker of worry in his eyes. He touched his own belly, then mimed the shape of a baby, his expression softening. Safe...must be safe. He would finish the cradle. He would be ready. Grok Gold Control...will protect them. He just needed Noah... A sharp rap on the training room door jolted Arthur from his focus. His bodyguard''s urgent voice echoed through the wood, announcing Noah''s arrival. Arthur hadn''t seen Noah in three days, an unusual absence that had been nagging at him. A wave of concern washed over him. Abandoning his training, he burst from the room and sprinted out of the palace. His heart pounded in his chest as he scanned the grounds. Then he saw them. A small group of goblins shuffled slowly, bearing a frail figure between them. It was Noah, but he was almost unrecognizable. The robust friend Arthur knew was gone, replaced by a gaunt, ashen-skinned man. His clothes hung loosely on his frame, and dark circles ringed his eyes. He looked like he was on the brink of collapse. Arthur''s blood ran cold. Three days... what could have happened in such a short time? "What in the world grok...?" Arthur breathed, his voice barely a whisper. He turned to his bodyguard, who had followed him out. "Get him inside.. grok, immediately!" he barked, his voice tight with worry, directing the bodyguard and the goblins to carry Noah to a vacant chamber within the palace walls. Day 21 Noah felt a surge of relief. Finally, he thought, I''m mending. He could walk, though the cane was a necessary companion for now. The ghastly pallor that had clung to his skin was fading, replaced by a faint, but welcome, flush. Rest and good food, he mused, that''s the key. Rebuild the blood, regain my strength. His thoughts drifted to the race-change pill he had so carefully concocted for Arthur. He''d initially planned to give it to him right away, but the image of Arthur''s near-hysterical reaction to his weakened state stopped him. He was beside himself, Noah remembered, a flicker of warmth mixing with a pang of guilt. So worried. It was...touching, in a way. But also alarming. The last thing Noah wanted was for Arthur to blame himself for Noah''s illness. It wasn''t his fault, he insisted silently. He made a decision. I''ll wait, he told himself. My own recovery has to come first. And Arthur''s peace of mind is just as important. This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. He felt confident he''d be almost back to normal tomorrow. Yes, he thought, I should be able to manage some goblin farming in the forest then. That would help him regain his strength and perhaps even hasten his leveling up. And besides, he added, a new thought taking root, I''ll be leaving the village soon, at most within a week. That will be the perfect time. I''ll give him the pill then. He was confident that in another week he would be able to level up to level 10. It would be easier, somehow, to explain everything and then depart, giving Arthur time to process the change. Yes, he concluded. Noah realized a critical oversight: he''d neglected to teach the goblins medicine. Their kingdom lacked healers or priests, a dire situation. Previously, forest training rarely resulted in serious injuries, and minor wounds were treated with simple mud poultices. This makeshift remedy wouldn''t suffice for more serious ailments. Noah recognized the urgency of the matter. He needed to acquire medical texts and learn about medicinal plants. The goblins'' well-being depended on him quickly rectifying this dangerous gap in their knowledge. He resolved to prioritize this crucial education immediately. Day 22 After the goblin massacre in the forest, Noah sought respite at Arthur''s palace. He arrived to find a scene of industrious activity. "Well, well, well," he muttered to himself, "looks like things are already underway." A new structure was rising, hammered and shaped by a contingent of goblins. "And not a moment too soon," he thought, observing the impressive scale of the construction. This wasn''t just any building; it was the foundation of a new era for the Goblin Kingdom ¨C a school. "A school fit for kings... or at least, a king''s ambitions," Noah mused. He''d stipulated that the school''s construction, which he estimated would take at least three days, should rival the grandeur of Arthur''s own palace. "Gotta make a statement, after all. Show them we''re serious about this education thing." Just the day before, Noah, with his characteristic blend of benevolence and coercion, had convinced Arthur of the necessity of educating his goblin populace. "Education is the key," he''d explained to Arthur (and himself, really), "an educated goblin is a productive goblin, and a productive goblin means a prosperous kingdom. Simple economics, really." Arthur, ever mindful of Noah¡¯s¡­ persuasive methods, readily agreed. "Smart man, Arthur," Noah chuckled to himself. "Understands the value of¡­ incentives." The school was designed to impart knowledge in various fields, from the practical, like construction and basic medicine, to more academic pursuits. "Gotta cover all the bases," Noah murmured, surveying the bustling construction site. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! "Can''t have them all becoming philosophers. Though, a goblin philosopher¡­ now that would be interesting." He understood that while goblins might not be the most intellectually gifted creatures compared to humans, their remarkable memories were a key asset. "Their short lifespans are a trade-off, I suppose," he reflected. "But they learn quickly and retain what they learn. That''s crucial for accelerated development. We can work with that." Noah envisioned a future where goblin ingenuity, fueled by education, would propel the Goblin Kingdom to unprecedented heights. "Limitless potential," he whispered, a glint in his eye. "Just needs a little¡­ nudge." He believed that with a little guidance, their potential was limitless, and this school, built to impressive standards, was the first step on that path. The rhythmic clang of hammers and the excited chattering of the goblin builders were a testament to the dawn of a new age for Arthur¡¯s kingdom. "Or at least," Noah thought wryly, "the dawn of a new age for my plans." Noah wrestled with a problem: who could possibly lead and teach his goblin students? "Arthur''s a shoo-in for principal," he mumbled. "Loyal as the day is long. But teachers¡­" He scanned the area. "No human options, unfortunately." His gaze fell upon the training goblins, their fierce dedication evident. "Hmm," he mused, watching them drill a group of goblins. He looked at six goblins, Arthur''s royal bodyguard cum fighting instructors, and saw how well they taught combat. "If they can teach fighting," he reasoned aloud, "they can teach other subjects. It''s all about pedagogy, really." So, even before the school was built, Noah''s job was twofold: teach these six goblins the subjects they would then teach the other goblins, and, crucially, how to be effective teachers. "A teacher training program," he said to himself with a smile. "Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant."