The Hobgoblin King's Demise

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Just as the heroes renowned across the continent, or the villains infamous throughout the world, the Reverse Heaven Mage Pellelian had epithets beyond just "Reverse Heaven." One of his most famous was Dungeon Master.

It's common knowledge that mages love making dungeons. But Pellelian took it to an extreme. The number of dungeons he created easily surpassed a hundred. Some even estimate over five hundred. Even for a long-lived elf, it's hard to believe.

Building two a year would take 250 years. And considering many of his dungeons are classified as large-scale or bigger, it's physically impossible. Yet it's a well-known fact that his dungeons are scattered across the continent, with many still undiscovered.

How did the old monster of Reverse Heaven construct dungeons at such speed? The first secret is likely his overwhelming elemental magic prowess. In elemental magic alone, he's evaluated as history's most ferocious talent. Recall the tale of him crumbling a mountain in three days—earthworks, the most time-consuming part, would be instantaneous for him. With earth ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠spirit aid, even faster.

The second guess: close ties with dwarves and gnomes. No matter how vicious the grand mage, dungeons aren't just digging. Internal structures, complex traps, machinery—all require skilled labor. Some question fairy cooperation with dwarves and gnomes. But factoring Pellelian's outsider status in fairy society, it's plausible. Records exist of him visiting dwarf mines and shadow fairy nests despite being a fairy himself.

Yet Pellelian was obsessed with trap technology. The dungeon traps were surely his direct designs.

Clack, clack.

'Damn it, shit!'

Hobgoblin King Crock kept fiddling with his bracelet. A peculiar design with a pea-sized magic stone embedded. Next to it, a latch that clicked in when pressed.

Crock pressed it repeatedly. Clack, clack, clack. The magic stone blinked. Signaling the one who'd given him the bracelet.

He'd never thought he'd use it, but the enemies were right ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠on his tail. The bracelet was a transmitter.

One day, a fairy had come to him—not an ordinary one, but a Shadow ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Elf. Name was Deshunan, maybe. Ashen skin, oozing dark, sinister aura.

He'd helped Crock evolve to Hobgoblin King. And shared a secret: a mage's dungeon lay beneath Elephant Rock. Claim its legacy, and Crock could evolve beyond Hobgoblin King.

Evolution was a monster's instinct. And having succeeded once, ambition bloomed in Crock. To rule all goblins.

The fairy said to call him via bracelet upon reaching the dungeon entrance. The interior was a demon realm; he'd be needed. Crock agreed but planned to hoard it all solo.

'Why isn't he coming...!'

But now, Crock frantically worked the bracelet. That snake. The mad snake was breaching traps.

"Sss!"

The snake flicked its tongue; Runga goblins following halted. Fearless mad goblins tailing a snake.

The snake was dismantling traps. Tap the floor with its tail a few times—shunk—something sank. Thud thud thud! Arrows fell limply from ceiling holes.

The snake reared its head proudly, slithering forth. Mad snake, mad snake. A trap-disarming snake? Was this the heart-eater his dumb minions mentioned?

Under the snake's lead, Runga goblins reached halfway through the cavern. Crock had sacrificed all his minions crossing it—barely surviving by luck—yet they were unscathed.

Then the snake halted abruptly. It began prodding something on the wall. Tiles ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠crumbled—thud thud—revealing a handle. The snake yanked it with its tail.

Clank— An ominous sound. Ominous to Crock, at least.

And a voice echoed.

Crock didn't panic. The ringing voice was fairy-tongue; he couldn't understand. But it felt far from welcoming.

The snake turned to Runga goblins, gesturing with tail and body.

"The traps are disarmed!"

Nanaruk grasped it instantly. How she understood snake-speak baffled Crock. She charged without hesitation.

Truly, no traps triggered. Axes in both hands, she lunged.

"Good! You arrogant bitch!"

Crock drew his weapon: a hefty cleaver.

Nanaruk leaped, axes high.

"Dieee!"

"Come at me! Let's see your hidden tricks—!"

"Same to you, you brute!"

Nanaruk spread wide then curled, slamming axes down. Crock countered from below.

Creeeang!

Shockingly, Nanaruk rebounded. Weight class and muscle gap. One extra evolution's difference.

Crock sensed his edge. No novice to squander momentum, he rushed the rolling Nanaruk. Cleaver descending to bisect her.

Then hobgoblins swarmed. Zadiram thrust spear; Nanaruk's brother Kadiram swung axe.

Kagagak!

Despite the pincer, no damage. Crock wore proper scale armor. Dress-like, unstylish, but effective.

Wham!

Crock booted Kadiram's gut. Force hurled him tumbling.

"Kadiraam!"

Nanaruk sprang like a rebound, axes whirling at blinding speed.

Kang— clang! Clang!

"Wh-what the hell!"

Crock gaped. Nanaruk accelerating. A hobgoblin matching him physically?!

His eyes bulged. Crock realized.

"You're... evolving—!"

"Bullshit!"

Nanaruk raged, axes flying. But Crock was certain. Runga's new chief undergoing evolution—to Hobgoblin King, like him.

That sparked unprecedented crisis in Crock.

"How—!"

"Shut up!"

Axes and cleaver clashed evenly. But to Crock's disadvantage, Nanaruk wasn't alone. Unharmed Zadiram speared relentlessly. Wounds accumulated.

Defeat loomed. As Crock foresaw his death—

"Na-Na-Nanaruk—!"

A trembling voice. His pathetic son's, never so welcome.

"Chandal!"

Once betrothed to Nanaruk, Chandal held a knife to Kadiram's throat from behind.

"Stop! I said stop!"

Nanaruk and Crock backed off.

"Chandal, what the hell!"

Nanaruk fumed. But Chandal bellowed threats to slit Kadiram's throat.

"Drop the axes! Or your brother's dead!"

The entrance was surely guarded—how'd Chandal enter? Simple: he'd entered with Crock, bailed from fear, played dead when Runga warriors arrived. Then backstabbed.

"Sis, ignore this punk! Kill Crock quick!"

"Shut up!"

Chandal's dagger nicked Kadiram's throat. Nanaruk froze.

Crock inwardly cheered. Dumb lovers. Perfect match.

Chandal had his own scheme.

"Drop the axes, Nanaruk! And Father!"

His demands:

"Surrender, and I'll spare Nanaruk and her brother!"

Crock had ordered his son to kill Nanaruk's brother for survival. Chandal now revoked it, yelling.

How such a fool spawn? Crock spat,

"Of course, son! Naturally!"

Post-resolution, slaughter all. But then—

A voice from the ceiling again.

No one grasped the fairy-tongue meaning. But one snake did.

Away from the absurd hostage drama, fiddling with the exposed wall mechanism.

-Hey, idiot! Not there. Below.

'Here?'

-Yeah, pull that. Pull the side one and we're all dead.

Snake and fairy soul's chat—inaudible to all.

No one foresaw the snake's tinkering yielding this.

Thung. Light sound.

But these traps dwarfed the cockatrice lair's. Pellelian's spear fetish intact.

Iron bars spun from wall holes.

Kwadududuk!

Pierced Crock's scales, flesh, shattered ribs, shredded guts—still pierced opposite armor.

Snagged in bars and bones, Crock flew with the spear.

Kwang! Smashed into the wall.

The snake thought: 'Goblin skewers with striking visuals.'

Goblins gaped at the sight. Even hostage-taker Chandal.

Kadiram ducked low, seizing the chance.

"Sis!"

Chandal's chest exposed. Nanaruk hurled an axe at her ex.

Thwack!

Nice shot. Hostage-takers deserve punishment.

Nanaruk's lethality confirmed. Chandal faced the world's most heartbreaking breakup.

"Kweeeek!"

Thud—Chandal collapsed. Not dead? Thrashing screams meant shoulder, not heart. Intentional or not, unknown.

Kadiram mounted, pummeling.

"You bastard! I called you brother!"

Chandal's fate uncertain, but easy living over.

Well wrapped up.

-Close call.

Pellelian grumbled.

-Bit late, and that Crock brute-force opens the door? Whole place collapses.

Not a villain hideout—this dungeon had self-destruct. Forcing the inner door crumbles Elephant Rock and all.

Why so extreme? Wouldn't hand precious magic stones to tomb raiders. Fair enough.

-Sheesh. Treating me like a dungeon-finding mage spirit.

Pellelian griped. Let it slide; I'd devour those stones.

Thanks to it, easy Crock capture. Still alive, impaled.

"Y-you bastards... grrk."

Blood drooling. Veins bulging eyes terrifying.

"To a mere snake... my grand... guk."

"Sssaaak!"

"Kek."

My retort dropped his head limp. Finished.

Finished. Level-up feast continued.

Insane. Ah, that one flashes again. Body trembled in joy.

Crock matched Nanaruk's strength—generous XP. Without Pellelian's trap, no easy win. Hobgoblin King gave massive XP beyond expectations. Superior monsters differ.

'White Double-Horn Serpent lv20'. Perfect timing. More conditions needed, but dungeon should suffice.

Now, parting moment. Solo into dungeon.

I returned to Nanaruk.

"Ahh..."

She slumped. I rushed, alarmed. Other goblins too.

"Sis, what's wrong?!"

"Fine, just... dizzy... sleepy."

Not injury. Nanaruk trembled, speaking.

"I..."

Instinct sensing her state.

"Soon... I can evolve."

"Evolve...?"

Ah, no way.

Pellelian shrieked.

-Argh!

'Jeez, what?!'

-So that's it—the Hobgoblin King's evolution trigger!

Hobgoblin King: goblins' superior evolution. Crock was one.

-Singular species. Prior king's death fulfilled her conditions!

Mystery solved. I'm a genius!

'Sure.'

-Records exist. She might go beyond.

Whatever, Pellelian muttered excitedly. Nanaruk to Hobgoblin King. Maybe goblin emperor unifying all tribes.

'Overkill.'

-She had potential.

Potential? To my Potential 20 self?

I approached, praising her effort.

'Good job, Nanaruk.'

No reply expected.

"Yeah... no, you too."

'Nah, you more... huh?'

Eyes met.

"Huh?"

'You hear me?'

"I can understand."

Beyond mind-link; now speech comprehension. Shocking.

Whoa! Evolution not just sleep-bound. Nanaruk gained Communication.

-Goblin emperor followed by all goblins. Needs speech.

I communicate fine sans trait.

-Mute snake that...

'...Crock didn't get me.'

-Improper evolution.

We marveled at mutual understanding.

"Thanks... won't forget your help."

Nanaruk teared up.

"I swear. You're goblins' eternal friend."

'Embarrassing... thanks.'

Sheesh, not aiming for achievement. Check later. Eager for dungeon.

"Wanna go together?"

'Nah, fine.'

Solo plan.

'Nanaruk, if after I enter, light bursts from Elephant Rock...'

Explained key fact. If blue light surges post-entry and I don't emerge, retreat far. Return to Runga, farther if possible. Elf investigators unknown.

"We'll wait above."

'Good.'

Nanaruk extended hand. I offered tail; gripped.

She grinned; I did too. Or seemed to.

Into dungeon then. First in.