Chapter 6: Grief

My feelings were still hurt.

I was this close to slapping the little runt on the back of the head, but I held back.

Barely.

The system helpfully identified him for me:

[Thok - Goblin Grunt Lv 1]

A grunt. Yeah, that checked out. No wonder he attacked with his eyes closed earlier.

I crossed my arms, giving him a pointed look.

"Alright, Thok. Tell me—who is this Drugar?"

Thok straightened up like I'd just asked him to recite the Goblin Constitution.

"Yes, sir, Totem!" he said, his voice eager and nervous.

"Drugar is god. Drugar bless goblins. Victory to goblin. Pray to Drugar."

Ah, so Drugar was their god.

"Got it. But why are you calling me Totem?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Totem blessed by Drugar!" Thok said, his tone reverent, as if explaining the obvious to a child. "Totems do magic. Totem powerful."

Oh. So that was it. They thought my insane powers were a result of divine intervention from their god.

I rubbed my chin thoughtfully, trying not to laugh.

This misunderstanding was… convenient.

A god-blessed warrior? Yeah, I could roll with that.

So that's why Zzok had dropped its weapon so quickly.

It was respect. Reverence, even.

This tattoo on my shoulder wasn't just some random mark; it symbolized something sacred to them.

Apparently, anyone bearing it was considered blessed by their god, Drugar.

Someone untouchable. Someone to be worshiped.

The realization made me stand a little taller.

Not gonna lie, it felt good to be looked at like that, even if the attention was a bit… intense.

Speaking of which, I caught one goblin staring at me a little too long.

Its gaze was intense, unwavering.

And then—did it just wink at me? I swear it just winked.

I shuddered.

Nope. Nope.

We are not going there.

We reached the clan base—a small, unimpressive cave tucked into the side of a hill.

Outside, the ground was littered with goblin bodies.

Their broken, lifeless forms were strewn haphazardly, some still clutching their crude weapons.

Zzok's face twisted with rage and grief.

"No! We're too late!"

Without waiting, he sprinted into the cave.

The rest of the goblins followed, and I hesitated for half a second before going in after them.

Inside, it was worse.

The narrow passage reeked of blood and death.

More bodies were piled along the walls, some slumped in corners, others sprawled out as if they had tried to crawl away.

It was clear this wasn't just a fight—it was a slaughter.

The scene was beyond brutal.

The bodies of children, female, and juvenile goblins were scattered throughout the cave.

Torn apart, pummeled, and crushed—it was a massacre.

The hobgoblins didn't just kill; they destroyed.

The sheer brutality was written in every broken limb and every shattered expression frozen on the faces of the fallen.

Zzok moved slowly through the carnage, his heavy footsteps echoing in the suffocating silence.

His eyes fell on the small, lifeless body of a juvenile goblin.

He stopped.

Kneeling down, he gently picked up the tiny form, cradling it in his arms.

For a moment, he just stared at it, as if willing it to move, to breathe.

Then, with a cracked voice that shattered the heavy air, he wailed, "No!"

His cry was raw, primal—a sound that echoed the kind of grief words couldn't capture.

Tears streamed down his face, and his sobs wracked his entire body.

The rest of the goblins, once fueled by purpose, froze.

Their weapons dropped.

Their shoulders slumped.

One by one, they sank to the ground, overcome by the weight of their loss.

Their home was gone.

Their family was gone.

The cave, once a place of life and warmth, now felt cold, and empty.

It was touching in a way I hadn't expected.

Despite their crude language and savage ways, this moment stripped all of that away.

And now they seemed less like monsters and more like people.

People who had just lost everything.

But whatever.

As heartwarming or depressing as their grief session was, I couldn't help but feel a tinge of satisfaction.

Not at the scene of course I have a heart, but at the fact that I had completed one of the tasks of the daily quest.

Grinning, I mentally brought up my system window.

[Daily Quest:]

[Sprint for 3 kilometers without stopping {Completed}]

[Scale a steep hill or a tall tree {Incomplete}]

[Carry heavy 25-40kg rocks or logs while walking for 3 kilometers {Incomplete}]

[Evade 20 thrown projectiles from fellow goblins or traps {Incomplete}]

[Warning: Incompletion of task will lead to punishment]

Two more tasks to go.

Was it rude to leave and go scale a tree right now to complete the second task while my green brothers were mourning their families?

Yeah, probably.

Did I care? Absolutely not.

Turning on my heel, I prepared to leave them to their misery.

If I didn't keep up with this daily quest nonsense, who knew what kind of punishment the system would cook up?

And I wasn't interested in finding out so I left.

But just as I was about to step out, the sound of shuffling footsteps echoed through the cave.

I turned back, and my eyes landed on a group of four goblins entering the cavern.

Two were standard grunts, nothing special.

But the third was a female goblin—thin, wiry, with sharp eyes darting around like she was assessing the situation. She was pretty. Kinda sexy. Petite and curvy with almond eyes.

An exotic beauty.

I was in love.

Then there was the fourth one.

Also a female. But boy...oh boy.

I shut my eyes like Thok did.

I wish I could unsee it.

She was especially ugly with saggy skin, and what could only be described as gravity-defying saggy boobs.

It looked like someone had taken a goblin, left it in the sun to dry, and then brought it back to life with necromancy. Oh, my eyes!

Okay, maybe I was over-exaggerating as she seemed old. But still, ugly

The old goblin's gaze shifted to me, and her eyes narrowed,

For some reason, I could feel the judgment.

And it scared me.