Human beings being not so humane

Jamie turned to Shadow, his expression stern and unyielding in the dimming forest light. The ancient trees around them cast long shadows across the forest floor, their branches swaying gently in the evening breeze. "Shadow, I need you to stay close by and gather as much information as possible. Keep your eyes and ears open for anything unusual. The smallest detail could be crucial to our survival in these dangerous times."

Shadow nodded solemnly, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a focused determination that transformed his entire bearing. The gravity of the situation was reflected in his steady gaze and squared shoulders. "Of course, master. I won't let you down. I'll be as silent as shadows and twice as vigilant. No detail will escape my notice."

Jamie then addressed Morona, his tone softening slightly but maintaining its authoritative edge. The young warrior stood at attention, her armor gleaming dully in the fading light. "Morona, I have an important task for you too. I want you to work together with Fear as his backup. Your skills complement each other perfectly, and together you'll be more effective than apart." Morona nodded vigorously, her eyes shining with determination and barely contained excitement. Without another word, she moved to stand beside Fear, their shadows merging as they prepared to depart. The pair disappeared into the depths of the forest, their movements as fluid and natural as the wind through the leaves.

Turning to Srides, Jamie could sense the weight of unspoken words in her hesitation. The way she shifted her weight, the slight darting of her eyes, the nervous fidgeting of her hands—everything pointed to hidden knowledge that could change the course of their mission. "Srides," he began, his voice measured but firm, the kind of tone that demanded honesty, "Are you hiding something from me?"

The tension in the air was palpable as Srides wrestled with her conscience. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she admitted to withholding crucial information about the humans possessing anti-life weapons capable of killing monsters with ease. The revelation hung heavy in the air between them, like a storm cloud threatening to burst. "They will die," she continued, her voice dropping to an urgent whisper that seemed to carry on the wind, "so only you are the one capable of killing them at their own game."

When Jamie pressed for details, his mind already racing with possibilities and potential strategies, Srides leaned forward, her eyes intense with conviction and a hint of fear. She proposed a strategy that seemed both daring and cunning: Jamie could pose as a low-ranked server of the Wolf Lord, using their own assumptions against them. "If they witness how strong you are despite being a measly servant, they would fear taking steps to eradicate the tribe for good. Fear is eternal, Jamie, and they would question their decision, which would lead to self-doubt. That's what we're after—not just victory in battle, but victory in their minds."

As they discussed the intricacies of the plan, weighing various possibilities and potential pitfalls, Sader appeared suddenly from the shadows, his arrival causing Jamie to start slightly. The experienced mercenary moved with the grace of a predator, his battle-scarred armor telling tales of countless conflicts. "No need to worry, fear my lord," he announced with quiet confidence, his voice carrying the weight of years of experience. "I'll go there myself. To deal with small insects, I'm more than enough. Besides, I've done lots of shady works as a mercenary, so this is not new to me. The shadows are my old friends."

When Jamie questioned him about the lizardman tribe, concern evident in his voice, Sader's weathered face broke into a proud smile that transformed his entire countenance. "It's already done," he declared, drawing himself up slightly, pride evident in every line of his body. "I'm known as the Thunder Slasher, you know." The nickname brought a brief moment of levity to the tense atmosphere, with Jamie acknowledging its coolness and watching as Sader's chest swelled with pride at the recognition.

They quickly established their roles in the complex dance that was about to unfold: Sader would handle the upfront work, using his experience and reputation to their advantage, while Jamie managed the other dealings with subtle precision. Srides would act as intermediary between them, her quick wit and sharp intuition making her perfect for the role. The plan was taking shape, each piece falling into place like a deadly puzzle designed to trap their enemies.

After Srides excused herself to change her torn clothes, her current attire bearing silent witness to recent struggles, and Sader departed with her as an escort, Jamie's keen senses detected something troubling—a smell like rotten meat wafting through the forest air. The odor was distinctive and wrong, setting off every warning instinct he possessed. His body tensed, muscles coiling with potential energy as he transformed into his human form. Following the scent at full speed, his movements were silent despite his haste, years of training evident in every step.

The scene he discovered made his blood run cold, though his expression remained impassive, years of discipline keeping his emotions in check. A group of humans stood around a huge muscular dead red goblin, its blood staining the forest floor in a grotesque pattern that spoke of violence and cruelty. But what caught Jamie's attention, what made his warrior's heart skip a beat, was the small, golden-bodied goblin hidden within the corpse, its tiny form trembling with barely suppressed terror.

The humans, who called themselves the seven monarchs of reality, took turns introducing themselves with theatrical flourishes that would have been comical if not for the underlying menace in their bearing. Each name seemed to carry its own weight of darkness, like curses spoken in an ancient tongue: Anger, with his scarred face and burning eyes that seemed to smolder with eternal rage; Shame, forever averting his gaze as if bearing the weight of countless sins; Happiness, whose smile never reached his eyes, a mask of joy covering something far more sinister; Sadness, shoulders perpetually slumped as if carrying the sorrows of the world; Hatred, fingers constantly twitching near his weapons, eager for violence; Weakness, trying to hide in plain sight while radiating an aura of desperation; and finally Psycho, whose very presence seemed to distort the air around him, reality bending slightly in his wake.

Jamie watched in growing disgust as one of them repeatedly stabbed the dead goblin's body, nearly hitting the hidden golden goblin each time. The small creature managed to dodge each strike without making a sound, though its eyes brimmed with tears that spoke of terror and desperation. Through some kind of reflective ability that bent light in unnatural ways, they eventually discovered its location, and Psycho grabbed it with disturbing gentleness that was somehow worse than outright violence.

The scene grew more horrific as Psycho drew his knife, its blade catching the dying light as he ran it along the golden goblin's body with almost loving care, causing it to whimper in fear. When they discovered its blood was dense like gold, their excitement reached a fever pitch, their howls of delight echoing through the forest like demented wolves celebrating a kill.

No longer able to remain hidden, his conscience warring with his tactical mind, Jamie leapt down from his perch, his movements deliberately casual despite the rage building inside him like a gathering storm. He approached the group with feigned innocence, playing the role of an impressed bystander perfectly, though every fiber of his being screamed for action. "I want to be like you guys, big and strong," he said, his voice filled with false admiration that masked his true intentions. "Can you teach me?"

The monarchs laughed at his request, their arrogance palpable in the forest air, thick enough to choke on. They boasted about killing the goblin, dismissing Jamie as "just a measly human below even goblins," their confidence born of ignorance about to be their undoing. Their words echoed through the clearing, each boast another nail in their eventual coffin.

Seeing his opportunity, Jamie responded with calculated insolence, his words designed to provoke like a perfectly placed blade: "How come? You're also humans. Doesn't that make you much more senile bastards that think they are strong despite being human?"

His words struck like arrows, causing all but Psycho to grit their teeth in rage, their composure cracking like thin ice under too much weight. Their faces contorted with various emotions, true to the realities they claimed to embody, each a caricature of their namesake. Jamie laughed tauntingly, the sound echoing through the clearing like a challenge, a predator's call before the strike. "Come to me, you guys!" he called out, his voice carrying both mockery and threat, the trap about to spring shut. "I'll show you what true power is capable of doing!"

The air crackled with tension as the seven monarchs surrounded Jamie, their faces twisted with rage and anticipation, unaware they were about to become prey rather than predators. The forest itself seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the violence that was sure to follow. Little did they know, they were about to learn the true meaning of fear from one who had mastered it long ago.