Chapter 20: A Goblin Noble?

There was no reasoning with this bumpkin. Shaya paid no heed to the resentment simmering in the wretch’s heart; since negotiations had failed, he chose the most direct and effective solution: violence.

A certain philosopher among humankind once said: “Violence cannot solve all problems.” Fortunately, the old man who raised Shaya had also mentioned this phrase during his lessons, but his opinion was rather unorthodox:

“The fellow who said that must be some well-fed fool who has never known hunger! Violence can’t solve every problem, but it can solve most of them! If someone is giving you trouble, trying to win them over with philosophy or virtue is as pointless as taking your pants off to fart. If it were me, I’d march right up and slap him so hard his teeth scatter on the ground. After that, he’d tremble and soil himself at the mere sight of you—these idiotic platitudes are just like those blockheads who claim ‘money isn’t everything!’ Listen up, boy: if someone tells you ‘money isn’t everything,’ that person is bound to be a penniless braggart. If someone claims ‘violence can’t solve problems,’ they’re definitely the sort who gets bullied by violence and stews in bitterness.”

Evidently, in this respect, the old man’s education had been a complete success with Shaya. So, after ending the negotiation, Shaya simply hefted his axe and charged straight in.

The goblins were still in heated argument, unable to agree on a crucial matter: who would be the first to take the lead—who would be the cannon fodder. In goblin tradition, the vanguard was synonymous with sacrificial pawns. Their motto: hang back in battle, but dash forward for loot. It’s no wonder that despite their numbers, the goblins were routinely defeated in the Wildfire Plains, whether facing dwarves or humans, during proper engagements.

So, when Shaya suddenly rushed forward with his axe, the goblins’ first reaction was stupefaction.

Not until Shaya was upon them—his boot slamming into the head of a goblin leader, driving its fat carrot-like nose deep into its skull—did the rest of the goblins scatter, shrieking their “Okk! Okk!” cries.

Shaya bellowed in excitement as his battle-axe flashed with chilling light, cleaving left and right, hacking up and down, slashing every which way. After four rounds of this “wood-chopping style,” none of the goblins who had been near him remained standing. The others, startled into action, tried to retaliate, jabbing at him with short spears and battered blades. But Shaya held his massive shield before him, hiding half his body behind it.

That shield, taken from the mighty Nigul—one of the Four Prodigies of the Royal City—was over a meter tall. Against such a barrier, the goblins were helpless; they were simply too short. To attack Shaya, they had to leap about ridiculously, trying to swing their weapons over the top, or else dash around in circles—but their stumpy legs made them poor runners.

Thus, a comical scene unfolded amid the chaos: Shaya, tall and imposing, stood like a crane among chickens, axe in one hand and shield in the other, as a crowd of goblins bounced and shrieked all around him.

At first, Shaya had the absolute advantage. He knocked out over a dozen goblins in one breath, but then they began to adapt. Some clever goblins realized his weak point: whenever he raised his shield, his legs were exposed.

Soon, the goblins started rolling on the ground, trying to stab at Shaya’s legs from below. The situation flipped, with Shaya hopping and kicking away desperately, while goblins rolled all over the ground around him.

The wretch watched from afar, utterly dumbstruck…

What a character this bumpkin was—turning a mortal struggle into a slapstick spectacle that could make one burst with laughter.

But the wretch’s amusement didn’t last long. Among the goblins, there were some brighter ones. While their companions swarmed the powerful human warrior, they spotted another target—the wretch. Though the wretch was also tall and intimidating, he didn’t look as robust as the axe-wielder. More importantly, he didn’t have that massive shield the goblins had learned to fear.

A few goblins brandished their knives and surrounded the wretch.

Shaya was in the middle of his frenzied dance, having already kicked several goblins into unconsciousness. His own shins had taken a few cuts, and one sweeping blow nearly severed his foot. As he leaped about, he suddenly heard a terrified scream from the wretch. Glancing back, he saw her beset by several goblins.

What a joke—he needed her as bait for the dragon!

Shaya’s eyes blazed—well, to put it more elegantly: his gaze was like lightning and he let out a piercing cry. Then he hurled his axe.

The battle-axe spun through the air in a flash of cold light, and with a sickening thud, it cleaved the foremost goblin—weapon, armor, and all—clean in two before the wretch. Green blood splattered over her, and she promptly fainted with a shriek.

Now weaponless, Shaya hefted his shield and used brute force to bowl through the goblins, sending bones cracking and bodies flying. He dashed back, drew the fire fork from his belt, skewered one goblin through the rear and flung it aside, blocked another blow with his shield, and smashed its wielder so hard that blood spurted from its mouth.

When Shaya returned to the wretch’s side and reclaimed his axe from the bisected goblin, the remaining goblins finally lost their nerve. Shrieking “Okk! Okk!” they turned and fled.

Shaya didn’t bother pursuing. Instead, he pulled a bundle of rope from his pack and tossed it to the first goblin he’d captured, gesturing at the defeated goblin warriors on the ground.

The goblin wanderer was completely dazed, only snapping to attention when Shaya kicked it over. It quickly grabbed the rope and got to work. True to goblin nature—they loved bullying their own kind. Despite its own pitiful state, the wanderer delighted in binding its more miserable fellows, tying them up fiercely. Many of the goblins lying broken and bloodied on the ground received extra kicks from it.

Shaya hauled the wretch to her feet and slapped her twice, rousing her with a furious glare. “I knew you were useless! But as a human, I thought you could at least handle one goblin. Is screaming all you know how to do?”

The wretch blushed—whether from shame or from the slaps, it was hard to tell—and began to sob, clutching her face.

Ignoring her, Shaya glanced at the goblin wanderer, who was still enthusiastically pummeling the wounded. Any that weren’t dead were tied up tight as New Year’s gifts. Shaya, not one for pleasantries, pointed at the wanderer, then at the ropes lying nearby.

The goblin hesitated, but faced with Shaya’s scowl, it shrank back and obediently tied itself up.

With some effort, Shaya tossed all the captives into a row. He nudged the first one. “Can you speak the human tongue?”

The goblin replied with a string of “Okk! Okk!” Shaya promptly lifted it and booted it in the rear. Then he moved to the next.

“Can you speak human?”

That goblin looked at Shaya pitifully, then shook its head in confusion.

Shaya showed no mercy and repeated his treatment.

The third goblin, seeing Shaya approach, didn’t even wait for the question—screaming, it turned and stuck its bottom out toward him.

Shaya was both enraged and amused, swatting this obliging goblin aside. “Isn’t there a single one who speaks human?!”

After asking twice more, he finally got a response.

The first goblin wanderer timidly stuck its head out. “Okk. I… human words… speak. Strongest man… don’t kick.”

Shaya was surprised. He stood in front of the wanderer, studying it curiously. “I, Shaya, human, strong! And you?”

The wanderer, eyes like green peas, looked at him nervously. “I, Ox, goblin, free.”

Shaya glanced at it, shaking his head. “You, Ox, goblin, soso, mine!” (Soso: loot, captive.)

Ox’s expression grew complicated. After a brief struggle, he plucked up his courage: “No. I, Ox, goblin, free!”

Shaya raised his hand threateningly. “You, soso, mine!”

“I… goblin… free!” Ox was clearly terrified, but still argued. As Shaya grew angry, Ox quickly shrank back in fear. “I… Ox… goblin… noble! Not soso!”

A goblin noble?

Shaya was taken aback—this fellow was clearly a goblin vagabond.

“You, noble, goblin?”

A flash of grievance crossed Ox’s eyes. He muttered, “I… Ox… noble… goblin lord…”

A goblin lord?

Shaya was surprised, but Ox wasn’t finished.

“…Goblin lord… consort.”

Shaya was dumbfounded. Even the wretch, still clutching her face, was stunned.

A goblin lord’s… consort?! Was Ox… a female?

“You? Goblin? Consort?” Shaya’s eyes widened. “You, goblin, female?”

Ox immediately bristled. “I, goblin, male!!”

Shaya understood at last. “Goblin lord, female? So, consort, male?”

Ox, face full of shame and fury, gritted his teeth. “Lord, male! Consort, male too! So… I ran away!”

“……”

Shaya was speechless. The wretch was speechless.