Osamaru Ta
patreon
B3 - Lesson 5: "Loopholes Are Fun!" (FULL VERSION)
🕑 Added 2025-03-18 01:28:13 +0000 UTC
“AAAAAARRRRGGGGHHH!!!”
Antchaser sat on a high branch and watched the crazed Aria futilely rage against another set of traps below. By all accounts, watching the woman struggle should have been satisfying.
She had kidnapped him.
Tortured him.
Tried to kill him.
And had she been left alone, Antchaser had no doubt in his mind she would continue to do the same to others. More immediately, to his people, if she — and the rest of the bandits — were allowed to make it to the village. Yet… Antchaser couldn’t bring himself to smile.
It wasn’t frustration at losing so many traps before the main bandit force even entered the area. This wasn’t the first area he had trapped ahead of time in preparation for today, and he still had dozens more areas covering all avenues of approach.
It wasn’t even the fact most of his traps didn’t even seem to phase her very much. These early traps were only meant to buy time, or deal with the weaker bandits, after all. No point in using the good stuff right out the gate.
“I know that look,” said a voice beside him.
Antchaser turned and saw one of Alpha’s [Wasp] drones sitting on the branch beside him.
“Fight didn’t turn out how you thought it would?” Alpha asked, tilting the drone’s head.
Antchaser gave a low ha! “I guess you could say that…”
“Need me to send some reinforcements?” Alpha followed up.
Antchaser shook his head and turned back to the scene of destruction below them.
“No… it’s not that. Things are going better than expected, even.”
“What’s the problem, then?”
Antchaser paused. After a moment, he exhaled and his shoulders slumped. “I… don’t really know. I guess…” another pause as Aria screeched and destroyed more of his traps. Antchaser continued, “I guess just imagined this going… differently, is all.”
“How so?” Alpha asked.
“I grew up on the same stories everyone else did. Stories about once-in-millennia geniuses with heaven-defying talent. I don’t know anyone who hasn’t. It’s those stories that inspire so many to take up cultivation in the first place. In those stories, heroes hitting above their realm isn’t uncommon. After all, that’s why they’re a talent.
“In real life, though… things just don’t work like that. Most people will never make it past [Iron Body]. Even those rare few who have talent enough to make it to [Bronze Spirit] aren’t anything special when compared to the sects. There, that’s the bare minimum.
“As for fighting above your realm?” Antchaser shook his head. “That’s a pipe dream for most.”
Alpha raised on the drone’s antenna. “So what? You’re disappointed the fight is too easy? Kid, where I come from, that’s not really a bad thing.”
Antchaser chuckled. “Many Cultivators would disagree. There’s no honor in an easy fight. No glory.”
“Bah!” Alpha responded. “Honor and glory are for fools. A friend of mine has a saying; ‘the wolf at the door knows no honor.’ When trouble knocks, life doesn’t care about things like ‘honor’ or ‘glory.’ What matters is being the one who makes it home. Do you know what a soldier’s ultimate duty is?”
Anchaser braised a brow and shrugged. “To fight for his liege, I’d assume.”
The drone’s head shook. “No. A soldier’s ultimate duty is to build a world where he isn’t needed.”
Anchaser blinked, his eyes growing wide. Then, with a chuckle, he shook his head. “Your people are strange, Alpha,” he said. Antchaser paused before speaking again. “Yet… I think I would like to visit them someday. This ‘Federation’ of your seems… nice.”
Alpha laughed. “It’s not as great as you make it seem. The Federation has its own issues, just like anywhere else. The only difference is, we have people willing to do something abou it.”
Antchaser and the other goblin hunters have seen glimpses of the mysterious ‘Federation’ the Core claimed created it, through their training and the databases they had available to them. The subject was a rather popular one during their downtimes. Some of the hunters argued that the Federation had to be some kind of facade. Nothing more than a story element to add structure and direction to their training, like a dungeon’s storyline.
After all, if the Federation did exist, why had none of them heard of it before? Surely such a powerful nation, capable of creating the wondrous artifacts they had grown accustomed to, would have long since taken over their world?
Others claimed that the world was a big place. The Skypiercer Continent and its sister, the Gaia Continent, were far from the only ones. Who was to say that this Federation didn’t exist in some far off land?
One of the more learned hunters, who had spent a few years in Halirosa, had suggested that the Federation had existed at some point, but had fallen for some unknow reason. He even theorized that the mysterious ‘Old Ruins’ scattered across the land might be the remnants of this civilization.
No one could agree what was the truth.
Boarslayer, being Boarslayer, has just rolled her eyes and said, “Just ask him.” Though no one had yet to gather the courage to do so.
Alpha laughed. “Why this sudden worry about honor? They’re bandits,” Alpha asked.
Antchaser’s frown deepened. “Because… I’m a goblin.”
When Alpha didn’t respond, Antchaser sighed. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but goblins don’t have the best… reputation. Especially among Adventurers.”
Alpha’s drone nodded. He had.
While most of the Adventurers visiting the village where… cordial, there was nonetheless an air of tenson. A few select individuals — such as Bert — had managed to break past that invisible barrier and begin to build the foundations of true friendship and familiarity, but such people were far from the minority.
Antchaser looked up at the ceiling of the forest cavern. “The Deep Tribes are not one united people. You can think of us more like a collection of independent city-states with a mutual defence pact. We’ll come running if any of the surface dwellers attacks, but other than that, most people are on their own. It’s not perfect, of course. Tribes and cities will often go to war with each other over caverns or resources and other silly thing.”
He looked down at Alpha’s drone.
“Yet, even the most war-like tribe of the Deep knows honor. Knows restraint. The surface tribes, however…” Antchaser shook his head. “There is a reason that surface goblins are used to scare children into behaving. Both on the surface and in the Deep.”
He turned his gaze down toward the rampaging bandit woman below them. “I’ve wondered at times what makes us so different from the other sapient races. Why do goblins have such a duality in us? Are we, by nature, such destructive beings? Or is there just something… wrong with goblins in particular?”
Antchaser’s gaze grew distant. “But now… after Bosco, and the bandits, and seeing all that I had… I’m starting to think we’re not so different after all. That maybe it’s not that there’s something wrong with goblin nature… we’re just not a good at hiding it. What do you think, sir? Surely you’ve seen more than me?”
A long silence stretched out between them.
“Not a clue!” Alpha responded cheerfully.
Antchaser nearly coughed blood but caught himself before he fell from the branch. The goblin turned and gave Alpha’s drone an incredulous look.
Alpha only shook the drone’s head. “Look, I think you’re overthinking things here. Honor, glory, right, wrong, your very nature — all important things to think of for sure. But each has their time and place. Here? Now? With the enemy in front of you? You don’t have the time or pleasure to worry about what someone down the road might think of you. Be it good or bad. All you have to do is deal with what you can now. Worry about the rest later when you make it back home alive.”
——————————————————
Robert ground his teeth together as he paced back and forth atop the village wall.
Nothing was going as it should.
“You!” he yelled at the Adventurer climbing up the rickety ladder, “What do you have to report? Where is Scout Leader Garrelt?!” Robert had called for all hands on deck half an hour ago, and so far the only one of his core leadership to show up had been Bert.
The Adventurer saluted. “Sir! It seemed the doctor requested the Scout and support leaders in her clinic for a checkup before the bandits arrived. It seemed she was worried about their injuries.”
Robert paused, blinking. He had run through several scenarios in his head since sending for Garrelt and Maggy. That the ditzy girl was late hadn’t come as a surprise. She often was, to meetings, so caught up in her own little world. Garrelt’s absence had been more worrying, more so given their… argument, only a short time ago. Part of him had wished Garrelt had disobeyed his orders. At least then Robert would finally have an excuse to properly deal with that thorn in his side.
It was just his luck that not only had the man decided to follow his orders for once, but his absence happened to be one of the few reasons he couldn’t reprimand the him for. Guild regulations as they were, medical personal were one of the few people who could block a summons, if they felt it would interfere with their job.
Robert clenched his jaw so hard he could have sworn he felt something crack. He clicked his tongue and turned away. “Fine! But make it clear I want to see them the instant the doctor is through with them!”
The Adventurer saluted again and vanished back down the ladder.
Bert — who had been sitting against a wall nearby, arms folded in meditation — pushed himself up and approached Robert. “Guess that means its just us,” he said.
Robert turned and glared at him, one eye twitching.
“Very convenient for you, Mr. Guild Investigator, I’m sure,” Robert responded, his voice low and threatening.
Bert frowned. “Robert. I know you’re under a lot of stress right now, but you need to stop treating the rest of us like we’re the enemy here. The last thing we need in the current situation is division.”
Robert didn’t respond. He only leaned up against the edge of the wall and stared off into the north, occasionally glaring at Bert from out of the corner of his eye.
Bert sighed and ran his massive hand through his beard. “We’ll wait then. If it’s that important.” Bert was used to… tension from people when his role as a Guild Investigator typically came to light, but Robert had seemed even more on edge than normal. It was like he had been fraying at the edges for the last few days. Even the impeccable image he so carefully cultivated had started to come undone. His normally spotless armor was speckled with dust. His undertunic wrinkled and stained. Even his thick black hair, which was typically kept in an orderly military style, looked messy, as if hastily combed back instead.
Bert shook his head, then sat back down against the rampart wall to continue his meditation.
Before he did, his gaze turned to the village center where Dr. Maria’s office was.
“What are you two really up to?”
