Malphegor
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MoP: Ch. 86
🕑 Added 2025-03-25 16:24:22 +0000 UTC---Third POV---
LootGoblin stared wide-eyed at the goblins, and they stared back.
The goblins who noticed him waking up were even more excited than he was. They chattered away in a language he didn't understand, gesticulated wildly, and then darted off.
One great goblin, likely a leader, stayed behind to guard him.
In the short time that followed, LootGoblin witnessed the same scene play out several times.
A goblin would come in, chatter excitedly, wave its hands, and run off. Another goblin would come in… This cycle repeated three times.
Instead of feeling nervous, he became numb. He started to feel like he was some sort of gorilla in a zoo, being ogled by visitors.
With the great goblin's help, LootGoblin managed to sit up and finally got a good look at his surroundings. The layout resembled the ruins he had stayed in recently, but this room was at least ten times larger.
It had furniture—tables, chairs, and cabinets. The bed he was lying on was hard but enormous.
Huh? Goblins have rooms like this? he thought to himself.
He had assumed goblins were like the ones he'd seen in the outer ruins: living primitively, eating raw meat when hungry, and sleeping on hay piles when tired.
Turns out, they could arrange proper rooms.
According to the newly updated forum notes on the ruins, the rooms got larger the closer they were to the inner area. Could he be in the innermost part?
He turned his head with difficulty, his mind racing with questions.
Injured people get treated this well? He glanced at the great goblin standing hunched over by his bed.
The feeling of unease in his heart grew stronger. This didn't make sense. Why would an ordinary injured goblin warrant such solemn attention from the great goblin?
LootGoblin felt that the goblin's attitude toward him was overly respectful. Unfortunately, he was covered in a strange purple-black mud that encased him like a cast, leaving him completely immobile. All he could do was watch helplessly as identical goblins repeated their cycle of surprise, joy, and departure at the doorway.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a different figure appeared at the door.
It was an unusually small, elderly goblin holding a brown staff made of a withered tree branch.
LootGoblin immediately recognized the figure and felt a jolt of excitement.
It's the goblin shaman mentioned in the forum notes!
He sucked in a breath of cold air.
According to the game's updated lore, this type of mid-sized goblin settlement, with a population of around a hundred, was typically led by a single goblin shaman in a pyramid-like hierarchical dictatorship.
Was he meeting the final boss of this place already???
The nervous LootGoblin suddenly felt calm.
Other players were still complaining about not even finding an elite goblin, and here he was, face-to-face with the final boss on his first encounter!
Hahaha, he hit the jackpot!
He stared unblinkingly at the goblin shaman as if trying to burn its image into his memory.
The goblin shaman gave him a strange look, unable to comprehend what this "surviving clansman" was thinking. Still, it wasn't angry.
The intelligence gap between different goblins was greater than the gap between humans and wild boars.
Ordinary goblins only needed to obey orders; there was no need for them to learn etiquette. Of course, that was the standard for most goblins.
The moment this one opened his eyes, he was no ordinary goblin anymore.
The goblin shaman stood by LootGoblin's bed and began chanting rhythmic, peculiar words. Then, it looked at him expectantly, as did the other goblins who had gathered around.
Suddenly, LootGoblin became the center of attention.
He was full of question marks.
What's going on?
What was this old thing saying?
But the atmosphere was so intense that it was clear he needed to respond somehow.
"Walang! Wa! Wa!" LootGoblin shouted abruptly, pulling the words from thin air.
The sudden outburst startled everyone.
But he didn't care. He maintained a serious expression despite the many confused and skeptical stares directed at him, while his brain scrambled for meaning.
What did that phrase mean?
Was it "Have you eaten yet?" Or "I'm going out to make trouble?"
Oh no, he was doomed. He felt a wave of despair.
After slacking off and barely studying for a day, he had forgotten all the goblin phrases he'd learned! But to his surprise, none of the scenarios he dreaded happened.
The goblins clustered around the shaman and whispered among themselves, occasionally glancing at him before pointing to their heads.
The shaman seemed to understand and gestured for a goblin to leave the room.
After a while, the goblin returned with a small red box, which it handed to LootGoblin under the shaman's orders.
He used his mud-encased hands to open the box, revealing a bowl of red, jelly-like substance that seemed to constantly shift colors.
"Wa, Walang?" LootGoblin asked in despair, pointing to his mouth.
Was he supposed to eat this?
The goblin shaman's eyes shone with kindness and sympathy as he nodded slowly.
LootGoblin swallowed hard.
Why did he feel like eating this would only bring trouble? But disobeying his "boss" would be worse!
He took two seconds to steel his nerves, then gritted his teeth and gulped it all down in one go!
The jelly's texture was even weirder than he expected. Before his tongue could touch it, the jelly slithered down his throat like a cold snake, making his skin crawl.
"Can't the game designers make normal food?!" he screamed internally.
"Can you understand now?" an elderly voice suddenly asked.
"Huh, what???"
LootGoblin, who had been silently cursing the game developers, snapped his head up to look at the goblin shaman.
A nearby goblin chimed in.
"Look at his face—he doesn't seem dumb anymore!"
"Yeah! He's not dumb anymore!"
LootGoblin swallowed nervously.
"I… I'm…"
"That's the Enlightening Divine Artifact," the shaman explained. "Even the weakest ordinary goblin can become a warrior wielding a wooden hammer after consuming it!"
The elderly goblin placed his free hand on his chest and bowed reverently.
"This is the wisdom granted by the God of Fear, a sign of the Lord's mercy."
The other goblins all bowed their heads in unison, their voices fervent.
"Praise the Dark Tempter, praise the omnipresent God of Fear!"
"Praise the Dark Tempter, praise the omnipresent God of Fear!"
"Praise the Dark Tempter, praise the omnipresent God of Fear!"
The deafening chants sent shivers down LootGoblin's spine. Now he understood what it felt like to stumble into a cult ritual.
"Praise… praise the omnipresent God of Fear?"
To blend in, he echoed the chant awkwardly.
The shaman kindly told him to stop.
"You're injured, weak, and don't have the strength for prayer."
Forcing it would only harm his body. Besides, this one had just had his brain poisoned and likely used up much of his lifespan to recover.
No wonder his chanting sounded so feeble.
Knowing LootGoblin wouldn't live long, the shaman's gaze grew even more compassionate. There was no need to argue over rules with a dying goblin.
Dozens of eyes were staring at LootGoblin, making him feel numb.
After hesitating for a long time, he couldn't help but ask, "Why are you giving me something so valuable?"
He paused, then rephrased his question, "Does God need me to do something?"
There's no such thing as a free lunch.
These goblins might as well have "hidden agenda" written all over their faces! Since it was just a game, he didn't care much about schemes or conspiracies. What really bothered him was this death-row atmosphere, like he was waiting to be sentenced.
He silently screamed in his mind, Can you just tell me your purpose and get it over with already?!
Also, could someone narrate why he even ended up here in the first place? What was going on?!
---Viktor's POV---
At my workbench piled high with potion bottles, I lifted my head.
"So, you're saying LootGoblin is now working for a goblin shaman? And he received a divine artifact, evolving from goblin to... super goblin?"
NeverShowOff replied, "Technically, he's still recovering from his injuries. He needs to heal before he can start working."
Hedgehog added, "And he's not a goblin. That item doesn't upgrade him; it just lets him understand goblin language."
"He's in the restricted zone of some ruins we can't investigate. He can gather intel for us," Garble chimed in.
"Wait!" I raised my hand, signaling them to stop. Clearing some space on my cluttered workbench, I sat down, resting my forehead in one hand.
"Let me get this straight."
It had been days, and that player was still in the goblin nest? And he managed to infiltrate the management?
"Did he say anything else? Any details about what happened?"
The three players shook their heads in unison.
"No clue."
"Even he doesn't get it!"
"All we know is he's got a nice place to stay, and different goblins visit him every day."
Hedgehog couldn't hold back a chuckle and whispered, "Sounds like he's being treated like a gorilla on display."
Garble said, "But he says the goblins haven't noticed anything strange about him."
"And every time he meets a new goblin or eats some unfamiliar food, he gains experience points." I could tell it was NeverShowOff's first time seeing someone earn bonus XP this way.
High-level goblins no longer lived like savages, eating raw meat. The food LootGoblin ate was relatively normal. Lying there in the game, being served by others, and still having goblins deliver bonus XP to his doorstep? I could see why even NeverShowOff was envious.
"A lot of visitors, huh..." I rubbed my chin thoughtfully.
A flash of inspiration crossed my mind, and I looked up.
"Do you have a detailed account of what happened after he woke up? Including all his interactions with the shaman?"
"Yes!" NeverShowOff nodded.
LootGoblin had recently been addicted to writing posts, rambling more and more during their chats. He even wrote a thousand-word essay in their group, detailing everything in extreme detail.
After recounting the entire story, NeverShowOff was parched and grabbed a bottle of water from my table.
I glanced at him but didn't mind too much. As I pieced together all the clues, the tension in my heart eased.
"This is a good thing."
"Oh?" Three puzzled faces turned toward me.
"He is probably safe in the goblin nest. His current status is likely linked to your relentless attacks."
Being in the remote Great Oak Forest, goblins had little concept of explosives. The players' attacks were also bizarrely creative, always pushing the tactical limits for fun. Their reckless, kamikaze-style methods unnerved even the upper-class goblins who didn't care about the lives of regular goblins.
They weren't human, but the players were relentless!
Powerful weapons, endless suicidal enemies of unknown origin... It was enough to cause panic among the goblin ranks. For the goblin shaman, stabilizing morale was just as important as identifying the enemy's origins.
A clan member who survived an explosion in the blast's epicenter, in full view of everyone, was the perfect morale booster.
As long as the other goblins believed the bomb wasn't that powerful, the players' bizarre tactics would seem like mere tricks. The sporadic appearances of a few "insect-like" enemies, who without explosives were just magic-wielding humans, wouldn't be a real threat.
One enemy? Kill it. Two enemies? Kill them both. Nothing to fear.
"Ohhh—so LootGoblin is there to be a mascot?" Hedgehog suddenly understood.
"And he got a free goblin language skill? Jackpot!" NeverShowOff's eyes gleamed with envy.
Garble, however, voiced his concern. "Are you sure there's no downside to this?"
He didn't believe in pure good fortune.
"Of course there is!" I continued, "For example, the red jelly he's been eating is definitely not a divine artifact."
"Goblins are a lowly species. Even if their shaman is truly a god's favored one, blessed by some deity, a divine artifact would never fall into their hands."
The gods were opportunistic beings, more calculating than traveling merchants. For such simple-minded creatures, just gifting them a small trinket with unique functions and a hint of divine power would ensure their loyalty. They'd never generously bestow items tied to their divine authority or power.
I crossed my arms, speculating, "The fact that he can understand goblin speech might've cost him something—like his lifespan."
Hedgehog breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, it's just lifespan? I thought it'd cost him stats or talents. That's fine then."
Used to players' wild comments, I remained expressionless.
I pulled out a piece of paper from my storage space and, with somewhat awkward handwriting, wrote down LootGoblin's task.
I was too busy to chat with this talkative player under my "Goddess" alias.
This was the only way to assign the task and have the players pass it on.
"His current status grants him high freedom. You can try contacting him and have him investigate for us."
Handing over the note, I added, "Tell him to go all out. A goblin suddenly promoted without rules and etiquette is normal. If any goblins suspect him, he just needs to recite the prayer incantation a few times in front of them."
Stashing the note, NeverShowOff looked up in surprise. "Prayers work like that?"
"It's a trick meant for dealing with the Church, but it's enough for goblins," I explained.
In the flourishing Age of the Gods, prayers genuinely reached the ears of deities, holding special power and significance. The gods were dead but this tradition never faded.
Basically, anyone reciting prayers a few times would become a follower of that god.
Of course, this only applied to the natives of Aeltia. For atheist players, who were merely projecting their consciousness, reciting a hundred times wouldn't do a thing.
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