Thrive

The grand throne room of Solarsa, the human kingdom, stood in solemn silence. Guards lined the walls in perfect formation, their eyes scanning the room for any signs of disturbance. At the center, upon a lavishly adorned throne, sat the King, his expression unreadable. To his right, the Queen sat with quiet poise, while to his left, the Royal Prince observed the proceedings with veiled interest.

A minister approached, his robes swaying with each careful step. Reaching the foot of the throne, he knelt before his sovereign.

"Rise, Orvan," the King commanded, his voice echoing through the chamber. "What news do you bring me? I assume it is the same as always."

Orvan stood, brushing the dust from his sleeves. "Yes, sire," he confirmed with a slight bow. "The elves still refuse to grant our diplomats an audience, and the demihumans have once again challenged our claim to the Dale Lands in the south."

"In all of Amatus, the Dale Lands—again." The King exhaled, rubbing his temple as he leaned back into his throne. "I grow tired of these reports, Orvan, but I suppose it cannot be helped. Send one hundred soldiers to reinforce our claim. The demihumans don't have the numbers, and they know it."

"Yes, sire." Orvan bowed, then turned on his heel, swiftly departing.

The King slumped into his throne with a weary sigh. The weight of the realm pressed upon him, yet the same problems remained, day after day.

From his right, the Queen spoke, her voice calm yet firm."Richard, why do you insist on provoking the demihumans? Shouldn't you be focusing your efforts on the elves? They can't ignore your demands forever."

"For Ordos's sake, Oriana, I know that!" King Richard snapped, his frustration spilling into his voice. "But what else am I to do? The price of grain is at a record high, and there are always more blasted mouths to feed."

Queen Oriana lowered her gaze for a moment, fingers tapping idly against the armrest of her throne. A thoughtful expression crossed her face before she finally spoke.

"We could conscript more E-tiers to strengthen our numbers. The filth must be good for more than just planting seeds and building wagons."

Richard exhaled sharply, fingers drumming against the gilded arms of his throne. "Maybe this time the outcome will be different."

Oriana raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

The young prince finally spoke, swinging his legs idly as the conversation dragged on.

"This is boring, Mother. Can't I go to the courtyard and play Knight and Goblin?"

Queen Oriana clicked her tongue in irritation. "Hush, Erik! This is important. One day, you'll have to make these choices yourself. Your little games come second to the duty of your country!"

The boy frowned but said nothing, slumping slightly in his seat.

King Richard glanced at him, just for a moment. Something in his expression shifted, but whatever thought had crossed his mind, he didn't voice it. Instead, he let out a weary sigh.

"Maybe this time, the outcome will be different," he murmured.

But the discussion had moved on.

Months had passed. Hibana was now fully integrated into the goblin tribe. Their culture—harsh and fatalistic—was unlike anything he had known, yet within it, he had found something unexpected. A family.

Hibana glanced at his status screen. The rock he had been practicing on had nearly melted.

MP: 10/10

"I've breathed fire six times now, but my MP still says ten." His brow furrowed. "None of my other stats have changed either—not even once since the beginning."

He exhaled another stream of fire, watching the molten glow pulse across the stone.

MP: 8/10

He felt the strain creeping in—the repeated fire breaths were starting to take their toll.

"And then there's this… What is that supposed to mean?" He frowned at the screen. "It only updates when I'm almost drained? That means I have more MP than what's listed here. But how much more?"

His eyes drifted to another line on the screen.

XP: 0/1000

"I should have gotten XP by now." He exhaled sharply. "Maybe hunting animals doesn't count. Maybe only monsters, quests, or special targets give XP. is my interface glitched or somehting?"

His claws tapped idly against the dirt as he thought.

"How am I supposed to become the guardian of this camp if I can't even reach level 2?"

Goroh approached, his footsteps crunching softly against the dirt. "What are you doing out here, Hibana?"

Hibana stood, exhaling slowly as he turned to face him. "Just working to make my breath more effective. If I'm going to protect this tribe, I need to be better."

Goroh studied him for a moment before nodding. "Come. The tribe has called a meeting… and it concerns you."

As they walked back to the camp, Hibana looked around and saw the camp beginning to thrive more and more. With him helping them with hunting and teaching them agriculture techniques even he had forgotten, these goblins were no longer just surviving—they were living.

"When I was just twelve years old, living in Shibuya, I had seen a documentary on TV in a waiting room at a dental office. For some reason, my mind is able to recall events from my previous life that I had forgotten. Little things that were of no real consequence to me… perhaps it's my new dragon brain?"

He flicked his tail absently, thinking. Whether it was his memories becoming sharper or something deeper at work, it didn't matter.

"This isn't the way it's supposed to be!" One goblin said sneering to another. "We not strong! We weak!" another younger goblin said.

Hibana interrupted the crowd of Goblins. "Whats the matter?"

The goblins were all gathered in the center of the camp. They had mixed expressions on thier faces. some of them looked confused, and others looked angry.

"This was always going to happen, Hibana, I'm afraid not every goblin agrees with your ideas." Said Goroh. Their usual chatter was gone, replaced by hushed murmurs and tense glances. Some shifted uncomfortably, gripping their weapons as if expecting a fight. Others looked uncertain, their gazes flicking between their kin and the crude homes they had built.

Hibana approached, his heavy steps muffled by the dirt. His sharp eyes swept over the crowd, noting the mix of emotions—anger, frustration, doubt. He could feel it like a storm in the air.

"What's the matter?" he asked, his voice low but firm.

A murmur rippled through the goblins. Then, a voice rose from the crowd.

"This isn't the way it's supposed to be!" A goblin sneered, his lip curling in disgust. His name was Drogg, one of the more restless hunters. "Goblins not build villages! Goblins take! We fight! We die! That is our way!"

"We not strong! We weak!" A younger goblin, barely into adulthood, echoed with a distressed whine. "We forget who we are! We live like humans now!"

A chorus of agreement rippled through a portion of the tribe.

Hibana's brow furrowed. "You are still goblins," he countered. "You are still strong."

"No," another goblin spat, shaking his head. "We not strong. Strong goblins raid! Strong goblins fight! Weak goblins stay here and plant stupid food!"

Hibana turned to Goroh, who stood with his arms crossed, watching in silence. The old chief sighed. "This was always going to happen, Hibana. I'm afraid not every goblin agrees with your ideas."

A goblin stepped forward—Grum. The one next in line for leadership. His yellow eyes gleamed with certainty, his posture steady. Unlike the others, he was not angry. He was resolute.

"You made us stop raiding," Grum said, his voice calm but firm. "You made us farm. You think goblins can live like humans?" He gestured at the growing village, at the crude fences and the fields of struggling crops. "This… this is not goblin."

Hibana frowned. "It is survival."

Grum shook his head. "No. It is your way. Not ours."

A few goblins nodded. Others looked away, uncertain.

"Goblins die, dragon," Grum continued, stepping closer. "That is how it has always been. And we are not afraid." His eyes met Hibana's, unflinching. "You want us to fight together, but we already fight together. We die together."

A heavy silence followed. The words hung in the air, undeniable.

Hibana felt the weight of it—the depth of their belief, the centuries of tradition, the way they had accepted death as their fate. He had fought to change that. To show them another way. But for many of them, it wasn't change. It was weakness.

He could argue. He could tell them they were wrong, that survival meant more than mindless sacrifice. But would they listen?

Grum turned to the others. "We leave," he said simply.

Slowly, a portion of the goblins began to step away, forming a separate group. Some hesitated, looking between the homes they had built and the kin they had chosen. A few children clung to their parents, confused and scared.

Goroh let out a weary sigh. "And so the tribe splits."

Grum walked forward without looking back. One by one, the dissenting goblins followed.

Hibana said nothing. He watched them go, his claws flexing against the dirt.

Even though the camp remained, even though many had stayed… the village felt emptier.

Nearly two-thirds of the tribe were gone.

Hibana watched them disappear into the trees, their figures fading into the wilderness. What had once been a thriving, bustling goblin camp now felt eerily quiet. Only twenty-four goblins remained.

During the exodus, he had noticed the hesitation in some. A few had wavered, glancing back at their makeshift homes, their fires, their kin. But in the end, they followed Grum.

Yet, Goroh had chosen to stay.

And for some of the goblins, that choice mattered. It gave them pause, and in the end, it convinced them to remain. If the old chief still believed in Hibana, perhaps there was still reason to hope.

Hibana sighed, releasing a slow breath. Smoke drifted from his nostrils, curling into the cool air. His voice was steady, but there was a weight to his words.

"Look… I know I haven't been a typical dragon." His emerald eyes swept over the goblins who remained—Goroh, Grek, Gonjo, Gopi, and the others. "But I swear to you, this is the best way I can think of to keep you alive longer."

He lowered his head slightly, meeting their gazes. "For those of you who have chosen to stay… that mission has not changed." His wings flapped a little as he spoke. "Yes, what I am doing is not Goblin. But I am a Dragon. And I see this as the best way forward for us."

He let the words settle, letting them feel the weight of them.

"It's not easy. I know. But if you become self-sufficient, if you choose not to steal from the nearby humans, I believe they will be less likely to attack you."

A moment of silence followed. Then, Goroh stepped forward, gripping his staff. He raised it high.

"The tribe survives!" his voice rang out. "I choose to still see this dragon as a boon. Let us continue to take a chance on Hibana!"

A murmur rippled through the remaining goblins—then cheers. Small, hesitant at first, but they grew. They picked up their tools, their weapons, their tasks, and got back to work.

Goroh turned to Hibana, his eyes unreadable.

"I still think we are doomed," he admitted, his voice carrying a dry humor. "But maybe… just maybe, this new way will give us more time in this world."

Hibana met his gaze and smiled, a small, knowing smirk.

"We can only hope."

Hibana was walking near the edge of the camp when he saw a figure exit the woods. It was a human! carrying a large backpack. Then the human saw Hibana and he froze completely stiff. Hibana cocked his head and approached the human. "OH Great Ordos! No! Don't eat me, Dragon! I'm just a humble traveler! I barely have two coins to rub together!"

"Huh...I can understand him!" Hibana thought. "So the language barrier is simply nonexistent in this world." Hibana walked closer to him, and glared at him with his green eyes. "I have no intention of harming you. What brings you here?"

The human looked confused. "Oh...Uh...My name is Sudio...I'm...Uh...Im a traveling merchant." Hibana looked again at his backpack. "Is that so. that would explain the giant backpack you carry."

Sudio seemed to calm down. "very astute, Dragon."

"the name's Hibana"

"Hibana? Well I see, a s-strange name indeed." Hibana Looked back at the Goblin camp when he saw Sudio looking at it. "Oh them? they are my charges. These goblins wont attack you, they are friendly. But I'm afraid we don't have something to Trade with you. Sudio nodded. "Oh...that's quite alright. 

Sudio adjusted the straps of his backpack, his shoulders visibly relaxing. "Well, that's a relief," he said, exhaling. "I had no idea what kind of reception I'd get out here. Goblins don't exactly have the friendliest reputation, you know."

Hibana sat down on his haunches. "These goblins are different. As long as you don't cause trouble, you have nothing to fear."

Sudio gave a small nod, his eyes drifting once more over the camp. "I see that. Quite the little community you've built here."

He paused, rubbing the back of his neck. "Still, I should be on my way. I don't have much time to waste, and it seems you don't have much to trade just yet."

Hibana considered this, then dipped his head slightly. "You're free to go. Next time, perhaps we'll have some produce to offer."

Sudio's lips curled into an easy smile. "I'll keep that in mind. Safe travels, Hibana."

With that, the merchant turned and walked back toward the trees, disappearing into the fading light of dusk.

Hibana watched him go, then turned back toward the camp.

As he made his way past the goblin dwellings, he spotted Goroh standing near one of the fire pits, watching him. The old goblin's face was unreadable.

"I met a human today," Hibana said, coming to a stop beside him.

Goroh's grip on his staff tightened just slightly. He exhaled through his nose and said, "We are likely doomed."

Hibana blinked. "What?"

Goroh didn't elaborate. He simply turned away, heading back toward the center of camp.

Hibana sighed, shaking his head. "He didn't even try to explain. As if I wouldn't understand."