Chapter 203
Chapter 203
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 203
Chapter Title: Named Monster, Gogrid of Greed
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This uncivilized continent of Gaia surprisingly has a lot of handsome men and beautiful women.
Right around me, there's the cute Luna and the vibrant Hippolyte, and just walking the streets, there are plenty of pretty women who turn heads.
There are plenty of good-looking guys too, but I'm not mentioning them because of bad luck. That's not the point right now anyway.
Anyway, for every stunning beauty or hunk, there are an absurd number of ridiculously ugly people.
In fact, there are more of the latter—people so bizarre-looking they stick in your mind after one glance are overflowing.
If I had to pick the most uniquely ugly face among the guys I know, it'd hands-down be Malco, with his massive nose and shaggy red hair.
But his eyes burned with fiery passion, and his voice was nice, making him a truly bizarre guy. Honestly, he might be the ugliest one I know.
Even so, a guy like Malco looks like a stud compared to a goblin monster.
Goblins are fucking ugly for real. Ugly ears, ugly nose, ugly mouth, ugly skin, ugly—fuck, anyway, take all the horrific shit and slap it on a scrawny dwarf body, and that's a goblin.
"Damn, what an ugly fucker."
Even the leader of these goblins couldn't escape that freakish appearance rule, it seems.
The differences were that this one was huge—I had to look up to meet his eyes—and massively bloated compared to the skinny ones, with flesh actually hanging off him.
Either way, the displeasing looks stayed the same.
However.
Matching his huge stature and bloated build, his strength seemed formidable.
Crunch.
A hobgoblin caught in his hand had its neck crushed and dropped to the floor. Crushing one of my minions—who's stronger than most monsters—with one hand.
Pretty strong.
This is a hobgoblin.
An evolved, stronger monster.
A silver-tier goblin lineage, you could say.
"Intruders, huh. Told you letting one rat slip away leads to this. Are you with those thieves from before?"
An irregular monster that communicates with humans despite being a beast.
Swish.
So I drew the club from my waist and assumed a stance. Behind me, my minions with glowing blue eyes clattered as they filled the space.
And when the area was packed with those blue glows, Paranoya shouted.
"Monster! How does it feel to be surrounded by your former minions!"
"Ho, impressive. A nymph necromancer. The big guy a warrior? Necromancer and warrior—classic combo."
Even in this desperate situation where anyone could see we're cornered, this fat monster showed no fear or cowering. Instead, he put on a lazy smile, as if showing off his leisure.
"More than that, a nymph. Nymphs are precious. Didn't expect a valuable nymph to come all the way here."
"Hiiiik—!!"
Then the hobgoblin stuck out his tongue and licked his parched lips with a slurp.
At that sight, Paranoya, who'd followed behind me, trembled as if having a fit and raged.
"You bastard—!! How dare you show such arrogance to him! Get down from that chair and kneel at once—!!"
"What?"
"This person here is none other than Lord Hassan, son of the Lord of the Underworld, Pluto!!"
"Son of Pluto?"
Creak, squeak.
The bloated goblin lounging on the chair leaned his jaw and head forward, acting intrigued by the story.
His fat-laden voice even sounded somewhat surprised.
"Son of Pluto?"
"Greenskins are descendants of Hell by nature. Thus, you must kneel before Lord Hassan, heir to Hell, and pledge your loyalty!!"
Paranoya, uncharacteristically, had decent eloquence. Her voice carried spirit, and the words sounded very plausible.
I was impressed, wondering if she had this skill. And I wasn't the only one surprised by Paranoya's way with words.
The green lump of flesh sitting before me started trembling too.
"Son of Pluto."
Did the fearsome prestige of that name work on him too? Maybe this would end quickly.
But the bloated goblin soon burst into a huge "Puhuh, puhahaha—!"
The bone chair bearing his massive ass rattled as if about to shatter, but he didn't stop laughing.
"Puhuhu, if that guy's Pluto's son, then I'm the son of the earth and hell! That one's obviously a warrior. Far from necromancy."
"Y-You punk…! Lord Hassan, show him what for—!!"
I'd been scolded, but Paranoya growled as if she were the pissed one. I grabbed her shoulder to calm her.
I'd thought the goblin boss was just a dumb brute with size and strength.
Surprisingly smart.
Maybe even smarter than Paranoya.
"Well, posers claiming to be sons of gods ain't new. This Gogrid's lived nearly 300 years and seen plenty of humans."
A goblin that's lived nearly 300 years. Shit, over ten times my age. And named Gogrid too.
I recalled a conversation from long ago with Elfriede and her party.
'They'd said monsters surviving massacres often gain names and such, and they're trickier than imagined, so be careful facing them.'
So-called named monsters.
As Hippolyte said, he looks strong enough for a silver-tier subjugation level.
To safely take him down, it'd be right to bring a silver-tier adventurer team, or heroes like Hippolyte or Actaeon.
But I didn't.
Me, who'd been scraping by in this world, become a gold-tier adventurer?
Even I think that's impossible.
And to achieve the impossible, you naturally challenge the impossible.
So I decided to challenge this massive named monster. Honestly frustrating, but here, he's the champion. I'm the challenger.
That's why I can tolerate him sitting on that huge chair looking down at me. Of course, in the end, I'll be the one overlooking everything.
As I steeled my resolve.
"Well, looks like a strong warrior. And those undead the nymph controls have blue glows. First time seeing blue-eyed undead since the Pluto temple fell."
Gogrid, king of goblins, scanned me with his murky eyes and spoke.
"But this body is a descendant of Tatari, blessed by the Lord of Hell. Only Mezayer can make me kneel."
"Me, Meza… Mezayer…?"
At the green bulk's words, Paranoya, who'd been grinding her teeth, jumped in surprise. So it's some hugely important name? That's the vibe.
"What's that!?"
But Paranoya asked back like she really didn't know. Thought as an ex-cultist she'd connect with this guy, but apparently not.
Thinking about it, Paranoya was an apprentice cultist.
She knows what she knows and nothing else.
Anyway, Paranoya's question was welcome to me too. At it, the bloated goblin Gogrid asked back as if hearing something unbelievable.
"You lot yap about Pluto's son and all, but you don't know the Seven Lords of Hell? They're the titans born to destroy the world by the current ruler of Hell… Nah, no need to explain."
Swish. Clatter, creak.
Gogrid, about to say more, rose from the bone chair with his massive body. Then he picked up a bizarre staff-like thing beside him.
Sssss—.
It exuded an ominous aura. Could call it a staff.
An artifact with a huge orb embedded in withered wood, wrapped in a sinister glow at first glance.
"You're dead now. Go to Hell yourselves, meet their majesties, and pass on my regards. Puhuhu—."
Pao, whoosh—!
He charged at me with weird breathing sounds. Clumsy movement, but surprisingly fast for his fat bulk—the pressure was no joke.
"I'll kill the useless warrior and make the nymph my concubine—!! She'll breed hobgoblins for me nonstop—!!"
Whoosh—!
He slammed the staff he'd gripped into the ground.
Trained by Hippolyte's fists, I dodged by lightly stepping back.
Boom—!
But seeing the spot crater like a meteor hit sent chills down my spine.
If that hit me, my body'd fold in half.
Swish—.
The ground shook from the impact, dust falling from the cave ceiling here and there.
But Gogrid, ruler here, either didn't think the cave would collapse or didn't care, swinging from above down.
Boom—!
Left to right—.
Boom—!!
Just wielding that heavy staff in attacks.
"Paranoya, hide for now!"
"Hiiiik—!"
I couldn't just take it, so I tossed Paranoya far for safety and said.
"Attack!"
Gaaaaak—!!
Then the blue-eyed undead swarmed the massive green scaffold like they'd been waiting.
Nearly 50 bone piles charging at once—honestly, even I found it majestic.
"These fuckers, not content with dying to intruders, now dominated. Know shame as Mezayer's kin—!!"
But Gogrid ignored their assault, just swinging his huge body and staff around.
Every swipe of his arm shattered bone piles with loud cracks, scattering fragments everywhere.
His thick hide and blubber seemed to halve attacks from primitive nails and teeth.
Of course, I could revive fallen minions with spirit drain quick.
And if that tied him up even briefly, it was enough. Inducing a split-second lapse in combat is huge.
"Th-These fuckers aren't normal hobgoblins—!! Why do they keep reviving—!!"
"Yeah, hold him tight!"
I ordered the hobgoblins to grab Gogrid's huge body and create openings. Bones clinging to his arms and legs made gaps.
"You bastards, you bastards—! Your dull teeth can't pierce the skin blessed by Mezayer!"
He flailed to shake them off, but the interlocked skeletal hobgoblins formed a literal prison.
Crunch, cruuunch.
"Can't… move…!?"
"How's my bone prison?"
"Wh-What necromancy is this? This isn't the necromancy I know—!?"
"Yeah, figured."
This was my hobgoblin version of the giant sphere those undead made fighting Antiope.
My arrangement, you could say.
I spotted Gogrid's belly hollow under the binding bones.
"Anyway, going for one big hit—. Keep holding!"
I gripped the club tight with both hands, slid toward him, and swung full force.
Whoosh.
The club arced wide from up to down, finally reaching that jiggling gut.
"Hah!"
Bang—!!
Like a balloon popping, and at the same time, my hands felt a weird sensation gripping the club.
What is this? Like hitting water with a club.
Yeah, exactly that.
No clean hit feel—just striking strange currents.
"Grrraaaah—!!"
But weird handfeel aside, his scream meant damage landed proper.
No way that full-body swing doesn't hurt.
Even Hippolyte'd be groggy from a clean hit like that.
Of course, she'd dodge such an obvious attack. But he was locked in my bone prison, movement sealed.
"Grrrh, that hurts!!"
But I thought it'd burst his gut spilling innards, yet his hide was thicker than imagined. Physical attacks definitely halved.
Worthy of a named one.
"Grrrh—. No ordinary rat! Who sent you? Are you, you Skizo of split minds?"
He planted both hands on the ground and looked up at me.
The guy who'd lounged on the high bone chair with an un-monster-like lazy face now stared at me fearfully, hands dirtied.
Swish.
Instead of answering, I raised my hand.
Clatter, clack—.
Reading my intent, some minions bent behind me, forming a bone chair.
"Controlling undead with a gesture for a throne…? You're really the one handling them? No way…."
A throne just for me in this dark cave.
I sat lightly atop it, looking down at the prostrate goblin king.
"Now you look like a monster."