Kyruk, Kek, Chwet Questar
Calling the Great Forest a single forest is like saying humans, elves, and dwarves are all just people. It's not wrong, but it's not accurate either—it's a meaningless statement. The Great Forest spans an area larger than many nations, filled with countless hidden realms. Caves of unfathomable depth. Lakes vast enough to swallow mountains whole. Peaks where thunderstorms rage every day. The Palamu Rainforest is just one of those hidden realms within the Great Forest. True to its name, rain falls for more than half the year. The oppressive humidity makes it unfit for human habitation. Even elves avoid it, repelled by the sweltering climate.
The Medeira River cuts through the Palamu Rainforest, fringed by thriving mangrove forests along its banks. Even in the Great Forest—a treasure trove of life—the Palamu Rainforest boasts exceptional biodiversity, yet it's no place for intelligent beings to thrive. And yet, rumors persist of a civilization that has taken root there. Goblins, once subjugated by the kingdom. Now that they've largely vanished from the mountains—where they were once a nuisance—eyewitness accounts occasionally surface of hordes settling in the Palamu basin. Some even claim they've built a civilization. But this author is convinced it's the delusions of paranoid fantasists.
Scholars occasionally argue goblins should be classified as 'people.' But can that primitive race truly stand shoulder-to-shoulder with humans or fairies? Goblins that devour insects and evolve—they're best categorized as intelligent monsters from an academic standpoint. They might have a few settlements in the Palamu basin, but calling that a civilization is absurd. Listing traits that set 'monster' goblins apart from people...
The Venom Pangolin had just succeeded in its hunt. A monkey lay beneath its claws. It tore into the monkey's arm with sharp fangs. Crunch, crrrunch. Jaw strength that could pulverize bone. The gruesome sounds echoed through the forest.
At that instant, a cascade of water poured down on the feeding pangolin's head. Whoosh! The pangolin startled into a frenzy. A sudden deluge from a clear sky? Naturally, it looked up. Due to its body structure, it had to rear up to see above. Skree, skritch. Nothing there. Just insect chirps. As the pangolin's raised scales settled and it resumed eating—
A cold, sleek form coiled around its body. Yeah, that sleek form was me. I'd snuck up silently and wrapped around the upright pangolin in an instant. My body was now as thick as an adult's forearm, over two meters long. Wrapping the pangolin was no problem. I coiled from its inner legs up its torso, past the flanks, into the armpit. In a blink—thanks to acceleration—the neck was mine. Then, squeeze.
Squeeze lv2
Not just a mimicry—a proper skill. Newly acquired. Snakes don't fight only with fangs. I'd been too small and weak to constrict before. Now, evolved into a mighty python, I could squeeze something like a pangolin. Easily.
Crrrrunch! Its scales twisted with a horrific screech. Probably stronger than my previous life's overweight self. My fangs couldn't pierce those scales. Better than wielding a sword and dancing a dangerous blade tango. I squeezed its neck. The Venom Pangolin had sharp claws, but short legs and underdeveloped joints. It flailed to rake me, but only shallow scratches. Tougher than expected. I tightened further.
Truth be told, this was my second attempt at hunting one. The first was a sloppy charge—I nearly died bitten. Lucky my poison resistance is high. Thud! My grip nearly slipped. It had slammed its body into a tree. Falling meant doom. I mustered superhuman focus. As it tried again, I pinned its legs with earth magic. It toppled. Oof. The impact hurt me too. As it struggled to rise, I squeezed harder. Crrrrrunch! Its hard scales dug into my tougher skin. Wounds opened, blood flowed. But no stopping now.
"Grrk, guk."
Throat crushed, the pangolin couldn't even roar. Its death rattle. Snap! A satisfying crack from its neck vertebrae. Victory!
Venom Pangolin defeated.
Ah, that voice never fails to thrill.
Before evolving to python, I'd gone ages without hearing it. Post-evolution, weak monsters no longer gave EXP as I grew stronger.
While I struggled to catch that Venom Pangolin, what was Pellelian doing? Perched on a nearby rock, spectating in the front row. Invisible to monsters, he claims. I sternly scolded my leisurely companion.
'Teacher, doesn't this pass?'
—Pass? With that? Pellelian snorted.
—Is that what you call magical application?
'I diverted its attention with elemental water magic, then ambushed. That's magical synergy.'
Indeed. Magic and physical attack flowed seamlessly. Swordless, but magic swordsman material. Yet not good enough for Teacher Pellelian.
—Still just dribbling water streams? Throwing a rock would've distracted better. Pathetically slow.
'...What? My magic talent's top-notch.'
Pellelian's words irked me.
—Talent? Pfft. He laughed heartily.
—I declare: your magic talent is abysmal!
'...'
Lies, surely. Typical fairy supremacist traitor plotting betrayal. ...Wait, didn't he swear to answer my questions honestly? One or the other: broke the oath, or my talent really sucks. Latter impossible, so I pondered turning him into what animal dung this time.
—Anyway, you've grasped all basic four-element magics. Time for the next.
'Next?'
Pellelian's lifespan extended a tad. Soul state or not, dead fairy equivalent.
—You wanted a sword, right?
'Yep.'
—Last time I saw you grip one with your tail and bite to swing? Dismal. Not swordsmanship—a mad snake.
The mad snake that diced your chimera.
—To wield a sword, you need hands.
'Arm-growing magic?'
—Monstrous sight. Not bad, but this is Transparent Hand magic.
Name screamed straightforward.
—Starts with fruit, but leveled up, you could swing a sword. Snakes lack limbs—this helps immensely.
Finally, real magic.
—Why pre-learn four elements? They're the world's building blocks.
Pellelian detailed Transparent Hand implementation.
—Recall magic's definition?
'Phenomenon recreation.'
—Yes. Simpler and less intuitive, the more basic the spell. Developed Transparent Hand over telekinesis—easier to imagine a clear hand than invisible force.
Couldn't demo, but his lecturing was surprisingly sharp. Taught disciples before? I managed a shaky Invisible Hand attempt.
Honestly, didn't feel like magic prodigy. Kept failing. Potential 20 doesn't guarantee learning prowess.
'Stop. That's enough.'
—Quitting already?
'Mana's dry.'
—Hmm, mana pool's small. Double evolutions in short span.
Pellelian marveled at my two evolutions in just over a month. But my mana tank was the issue. Basic elements? Fine repeatedly. Big skills? Nope. Borrowing Horn or Leap Over Horn drained it in one or two uses. Especially Heavenly Thunder Command—Gunter's borrowed skill, level 0 displayed, yet mana hog. Fainted mid-cast without using it. In real combat? Dead.
—Four ways to expand mana. Pellelian recapped.
—Evolve.
—Hunt masses of monsters, infuse demonic essence.
—Consume magic stones, inner cores, elixirs.
—Wear mana-boosting artifacts.
One and two take time. Python evolution was brutal. Left three and four—treasure goblin right beside me.
—Find Dungeon 123, and...
Pellelian's Dungeon 123—my Palamu goal. Hidden somewhere here. Not a chimera factory horror.
—Magic stone research site—high-grade stones remain, preserved from decay.
Post-core, anything beneficial turns my eyes.
—I'll give 'em, but keep your promise: transmit my data to my body.
'If you don't screw me.'
—I swore. Mocking a mage's oath? I explained the principle.
Pellelian griped. Old folks get cranky. Hard for him to betray or trap me without mutual suicide. Oath binds unless suicidal.
'So why can't you find the way?'
—Hmm... definitely this direction.
'Third time saying that.'
Problem: Pellelian sucks at navigation. Excuses flying/teleport habits.
—Just find the Medeira River.
Still hadn't. Headed north first. Hope for river this time.
But next day, pangolin digested, hunger gnawing—we met no river. A pelican devouring a live goblin.
Pellelian and the snake watched hidden.
'Whoa, intense.'
Pellelian glanced at the flippant snake. Impressive sight: massive pelican swallowing a goblin.
'Won't it choke?'
Snakes epitomize live swallowing—yet this one acted oblivious sometimes.
—Foolish brute.
'The goblin?'
Shot snake for no magic talent, but untrue. Terrifying aptitude, boundless affinity. Four-element mages rare; learning speeds vary—snake's uniform. How? Still called talentless: hated its smugness. Oath only honest answers to questions—initiating chat exempt. Worried running out of secrets, looking foolish.
Then, goblin screamed.
"Kyruk, kek, chwet questar. Tingkit kit!"
Fricatives and plosives galore. Snake looked baffled. Naturally—goblin tongues vary regionally, accents obscure. But Pellelian, monster expert, knew.
—Translate?
'Huh?'
—"O River God, save me. Mother awaits!"
Snake's face twisted oddly. Pellelian smug. Marvel, snake. But snake spouted nonsense.
'Nah, wrong. "Must return to river! Let go! Save sis!"'
Acting like it understood goblin perfectly. Absurd. Pellelian scowled.