CHAPTER 101

The sound of footsteps crushing the bones left behind by a creature that once held great fame in this abyssal depth echoed ominously. From its claws to its breath, countless legends spoke of the wounds it inflicted, none of them fond memories. Yet, standing against a being of superior renown and overwhelming power, all that remained after millennia were its desiccated bones. Now, with the movement of a massive horde of abyssal hobgoblins — beings ranked as lords, numbering in the hundreds of thousands — marching through this abyssal region, the sound of their march and the war cries of their warlord shamans filled the air as they trampled the forgotten dragon's shattered remains.

At the forefront of this army, the arch-shaman goblin rode atop an abyssal wyvern, its keen eyes scanning the surroundings to ensure the safe passage of its vast tribe through this perilous land. Turning back, the arch-shaman began to speak in the ancient tongue of the goblins — a language so old that no goblin from any other world could understand it: the tongue of Jogurash. When the first goblins invented this language, there were no orcs or trolls; those beings, who later distanced themselves from goblinkind, were in fact advanced offshoots that had evolved from goblins. Yet, in the Abyss, even after millions of years, the language of intelligent creatures remained unchanged, for survival took precedence over evolution.

Abyssal goblins, formidable in their own right, became even more fearsome when gathered in such numbers, especially with their shamans present, radiating a level of power that could strike fear into even the mightiest legendary beings. Nevertheless, even in the deepest parts of this desolate realm, there existed creatures that could threaten such a colossal horde.

"Zhugo Kharash!"The arch-shaman glanced back and singled out one of his apprentices, a shaman with superior equipment."Khu Go Orzhalis Baqugo!"

The apprentice, understanding his master's command, summoned a group of wolf-mounted scouts and departed to survey the path ahead.

Meanwhile, the aged arch-shaman dismounted his wyvern and made his way to the heart of the army, where the warband's prisoners were kept. Goblins and their evolved kin were known as the "Hogulijans" by the gods of light — a name bestowed upon those deemed worthy of eradication. Yet, the extermination of this race was far from simple. The Hogulijan gods had emerged swiftly with the rise of their race, forming a pantheon within the rival factions of darkness to defend their kind. Though often relegated to the role of fodder and vanguard, some goblins managed to climb the ranks within these pantheons. However, even this was not enough to deter the gods of light from cursing their species with a powerful hex: the Curse of Birthlessness.

This curse, enacted at great sacrifice, ensured that no female of their race would ever be born again — a crippling blow to the goblins' greatest strength: their rampant reproduction. The Hogulijan gods fought desperately to undo the curse, but the divine craftsmanship behind it, combined with the self-sacrifice of several gods who imbued the curse with divine awareness, made it self-sustaining and impossible to break. Over millennia, as the Hogulijans waged war, the curse only grew stronger, becoming an unbreakable affliction. Since then, they were forced to abduct females from other humanoid races to sustain their numbers.

All this history ran through the arch-shaman's mind — knowledge passed down through generations, carrying with it a new duty: the abduction of females from other races. Before him, at the center of the tribe's formation, stood the cages and wagons pulled by giant badger-like creatures with glistening scales. Inside these cages, women from various abyssal humanoid races were held captive. Though the tribe numbered over a hundred thousand, they possessed only five thousand prisoners — a grim testament to the curse's devastating effect.

"Zhugok Alazhi! Zhugok!"With a sudden cry, the arch-shaman slammed his peculiar wooden staff into the ground, sending the black skull atop it hurtling through the air at a speed that shamed light itself. It struck a goblin who was assaulting one of the captive women, killing him instantly. The body disintegrated into ash, a testament to the lingering potency of the arch-shaman's death spell.

Nearby, another goblin — his tears streaming — wore clothing denoting higher status. Yet even his rank could not save him from punishment for his son's crime. The same black skull claimed him as well, his body rapidly decaying into nothingness, consumed by the spell's relentless energy.

"Khashak!"The aged shaman spat upon the father's ashes, glaring at the surrounding goblins. The safety of the captive women was of utmost importance; pregnancies during long tribal migrations often resulted in the mother's death, an unacceptable loss for their cursed race. Such acts were classified as grave offenses, and the arch-shaman had enforced the tribe's laws accordingly.

Raising his staff once more, he addressed the gathered commanders, delivering a speech that would etch the tribe's laws into their minds once again.