35 A Hobgoblin’s Final Moments

"G-GERUK!"

In Hobgoblin tongue, that meant "Monster!"

This was the only word that came to the mind of the Hobgoblin Chief as he heard the deaths of his people.

Dozens of Hobgoblins being slayed in a single moment, and the voice of their annihilator echoing in depraved laughter as he inflicted an unjust punishment.

Just what… what did he and his people do to deserve this?!

For the seven months that he had been the Chief of the Hobgoblins, they had encountered nothing but peace and prosperity.

Within a month or two, he would finally be able to rest and join his ancestors in the earth.

Yet, this had to happen in his lifetime? In this own tenure of rulership?

Why?!

The fables of the Hobgoblin society told of a time when they were the prey of the NightWolves, but thanks to the leadership of the great KoKuKa, the Hob Chief at the time, they were able to turn the tables around.

It took several generations of Hobgoblin Chiefs, but they were finally able to conquer this land of darkness for themselves.

These events happened so long ago that only stories existed of them.

The Hobgoblins now only knew peace and prosperity, and the only reason they hadn't lost their touch of combat was due to the contests that were frequently held—once every month.

If it hadn't been for that, the Hobgoblins would have all grown fat and lazy.

The Hobgoblin Chief was initially grateful that they didn't abandon their culture.

He thought their training would finally be put to good use against the invader.

But now… now he thought differently.

Not only was their training rendered useless in this entity's presence, but his powers were something that no Hobgoblin could ever hope to attain.

Not even the great KoKuKa!

If this was how things were going to be, then wouldn't it have been better to have enjoyed themselves to the fullest?

They should have all gotten fat and lazy.

At the very least, that would mean they got to enjoy the little time they had left until their inevitable annihilation!

"G-Guh…?!"

The Hobgoblin Chief noticed that the echoes and screams had ceased.

That meant the last of the warriors had fallen.

It was all over.

Since he could not see, he could only wait for his turn to come.

He trembled as he sat on his throne, his palms sweaty as he struggled to maintain his grip on his scepter.

He had no idea why he stubbornly clung to his position when everything was going to disappear soon.

The little ones and women were locked in the other room. Since they could not participate in war, they had to be sheltered from all of it.

Hobgoblins did not particularly discriminate when it came to warfare, but there were pragmatic reasons why children and women could not be allowed to fight.

Children were too weak and unintelligent to be of any use. Instead, they would be liabilities.

They hadn't been trained in weaponry, and their muscles were yet to develop, so they could not properly wield any weapon.

As for the women, Hobgoblins constantly bred, so they were constantly pregnant.

All the women in the tribe had children in their wombs. Once they gave birth, they would be impregnated once again.

For the future of the tribe, that was the custom.

As a result, the three hundred more Hobgoblins in the room were the future of their people.

Unfortunately, they were doomed to die.

Not at the hands of the annihilator—he would never find them—but due to starvation or some other unfortunate means.

Unless a group of adult Hobgoblins rolled the stone that blocked the entrance/exit from outside, all of them would be trapped inside.

He was the only adult left, and he doubted he could push the stone boulder himself.

In the end, the children and women only had one option.

To feed on one another as their ancestors did in the past, while breeding constantly to stay alive.

The Hobgoblin Chief found this to be terribly barbaric.

They had already evolved past that, so it was a descent of shame for his people to indulge in such an abomination.

However… he would still prefer for them to do that than to die out.

The Hobgoblin Chief thought about his own children, and his five mates.

He personally wanted them to live… live no matter the cost.

~SQUELCH!~

He felt his flesh rip open and his blood gush out along with his entrails.

It didn't even take a second before he was on the brink of death.

That single second of agony felt like hell for him, but thankfully it didn't last for too long.

"G-gureekkidaaa…"

Those were the last words the Hobgoblin Chief uttered before breathing his last in a pool of his own blood and guts.

In Hobgoblin tongue, it meant, "The end has come."

And he couldn't have been more correct.

********

"Looks like they're all dead." Rey muttered as he looked around to see the corpses of over three hundred Hobgoblins.

"Haa… this is awful."

A sigh of sadness and pain escaped his lips as he witnessed the horror he had wrought.

However, Rey didn't feel bad because he had just massacred an entire tribe of Hobgoblins.

He did so for a completely different reason.

"I'll have to pick up all those Monster Cores…"

It was really tedious to do, and he didn't want to have to engage in such mundane, time wasting activities.

As his human brain tried to figure out a way out of this problem, he suddenly had an idea.

"Hold on! I could just use THEM!"

Who were the 'THEM' that Rey referred to?

Well, they were none other than the group of women and children that were trapped behind the stone boulder right behind the Hobgoblin Chief's throne.

Rey had already detected them during the course of his fight with the Hobgoblin horde, and he could easily roll over the stone to gain access to them.

In the end, it appeared that the problem solved itself.

"They can help me pick up the Cores!"

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[A/N]

I don't even know what to say.

I'm sorry for all the info dump and tangents I went on in this chapter.

I just like writing this way, since it helps me flesh out the story a lot more.

It feels better knowing that the Hobgoblins being killed aren't just mindless drones but sentient creatures with families and emotions.

How does it feel to know that your Mc, Rey, just murked all of them?

Right now, we can only pray for the women and children…