Ubel CH5

Two weeks after the disastrous dungeon dive, I expected some kind of reprimand; instead, I was shunned like I was responsible for the guard’s death. Mos left, leaving me alone to work. While I hadn’t killed Mos’s uncle, I hadn’t saved him either. The potions sold like clockwork, but no merchant would purchase my overstock. Either it went to the Republic or rotted on the shelves.

My root research was coming along I managed to cobble together a cycling technique instead of using Heavenly Tribulation to annihilate the blockages in my roots. When I wasn’t busy with my latest ploy to get out of my gear, I worked on cycling my mana. Exploring the system and the databases available took up the rest of my time. There were even educational programs called anime that explored various scenarios an adventurer could find themselves in.

At first, the shunning frustrated me, but time to myself was what I needed. Each day, I became faster as I pushed my body. Recovery potions had another benefit: I could use them to hasten the gains from my training. The runes on my gear continued flaring to life and increasing the difficulty. Still, I was handily reaching the end of my training gear’s restraints.

Since it was impossible to remove the gear, I thought about adding more. Looking like a piece of black coal with legs wasn’t a great look, but it would help me reach higher levels of physical stats. Once I hit 1000 in strength, I should be able to remove the armor myself.

I tapped a screen, taking notes on my latest project.

Purple lighting struck my cauldron as I followed through, controlling the mana as my potions sizzled and congealed. I wanted to create specialized ingredients with my skill. The four stages of classical alchemy were a journey toward perfection. Each step removed imperfections until something truly beneficial was left. Alchemy was a profession that challenged the natural order and skirted the edge of necromancy, from what I could tell from my research.

Looking back, I couldn’t find proof of that relationship until much later.

I read an article on the database that all magic was a story either contained or open, whatever that meant. My class was Lightning Elementalist, so my story was a romantic horror between myself and Lighting Chan. From what my research confirmed, that was the proper outlook to take.

There were so many new words I had to look up, and I often fell into goblin holes searching for gold.

The shunning from the goblins at large came with a restriction on the number of ingredients I could purchase. The human tax on food was an insult I had no way to respond to. Save the ingredients for healing potions and my disease-cure pills; my options had been removed. A lack of ingredients to experiment with should have put a stop to my alchemic advancement. The limit the goblins placed on me only made me want to find a workaround even more.

I knocked back a healing potion when I heard a familiar knock. My Tactile Telekinesis didn’t just improve my eyesight it also helped me remember details like various knocks that I’ve heard before. That could also be my increased intelligence or wisdom, but from my research, those stats were misleading. I didn’t gain knowledge from intelligence; I gained a greater mana reserve and maybe mana intuition. Stats were complicated with disagreeing articles with very convincing arguments and research backing them. They couldn’t even agree if having some stats instead of others was beneficial or harmful.

I had 19 charisma and 15 luck, but I haven’t had any issues communicating.

My door opened. “It reeks in here. When was the last time you went to the bathhouse.”

“The gobs laugh at me and say I have a funny-looking cock. Apparently, it’s too big and long.” Mos gave me an annoyed look; we both knew I couldn’t take my gear off. “Besides, I’m self-cleaning. Someone blocked the vent, hoping the fumes would kill me.” I said.

The goblin’s yellow eyes widened at my words. Fumes were pouring out of my workshop, frizzing her hair and watering the poor gob’s eyes. Besides that, she looked good, a little taller with smaller ears and a more angular face. On her waist, I caught sight of a familiar golden dagger from the dungeon. I wasn’t that unique; only one out of a number of enchanted weapons dropped on the second floor.

“I’ve decided that if you apologize, I’ll forgive you,” Mos said.

I thought about the villagers abandoning me in our time of need. Mos was a part of the Republic and had a great support system. I had nothing but my recurring quest with the Republic and my workshop.

“I’m sorry your uncle died in the dungeon,” I said.

“This isn’t about my uncle. I have hundreds.” The goblin girl paused before she could pick up steam for a rant I wouldn’t understand. “That doesn’t look like a health potion,” Mos said.

“I already paid the Republic a year’s worth of health potions. So, I won’t do anything more for them. You missed the shipping ledger.” I said.

I made some important discoveries by delving into the databases. The silver stars were coming from the Republic and not the system itself. I had to do a lot of searches to figure that out. My quest was with Blanca, not the Republic, so if something happened to him and no one renewed the quest, it would be voided. That meant no penalties on my end. As his faction, the Republic would lose a large portion of its treasury.

Mos looked away, seemingly more interested in my doorframe than the strengthening concept I was cobbling together from powerful healing. A tap on her shoulder alerted her to a group of gobs carrying in some kobolds. They should work well enough for test subjects. I had plenty of room in my workshop.

While the goblins restricted the ingredients I could purchase, they did nothing about the kobolds currently being used as a cheap meat supply. Since my purchasing variety was cut for alchemic ingredients, I would do research with what I had. I would use what adventurers called the scientific method to determine what my pills did.

The gobs finished loading the kobolds into a little fenced area while I worked to finish my first batch of strengthening ingredients. A journey from an outsider’s perspective was a story. I planned to use the bodies of these kobolds in combination with my pills to create even better alchemic ingredients.

Mos at least waited for the gobs to leave before she exploded.

“I heard about your attempted theft of Republic funds. Do you have any idea how lucky you are not to be a training dummy for spells? We took you in and gave you a job; how could you betray us like that.” Mos said.

“Without me, there would be no drops at all,” I said.

“Theft is an executable offense. Most would rather you were a serial killer or rapist than a dirty coin thief.” Mos said.

I closed my eyes and sighed. Less than two months ago, I was a farm boy working on someone else’s land. The goblins weren’t much different. Mos might as well be a minder sent here to keep me on task. They sent a cute little goblin girl to see what kind of man I was. To her, the loot from the dungeon belonged solely to the Republic, and I had no right to it.

“Stop it,” Mos said while crying.

“Stop what,” I asked.

This whole experience was tiring. I was over her days ago. My crush wasn’t so deep that it would stop me from moving on. I found a passage about the metamorphosis into Superman. To become this being, we must first become the camel, the bearer of loads. My gear was a burden that I was becoming comfortable with the weight was well known. Saving my sister was a similar burden. It was expected that a brother sacrificed themselves to save their sister. I was even expected to work and enjoy my poverty because God wills it, according to the town criers and priests. If I showed modesty and humility before their God, I would be gifted riches in the life after this one.

It felt like those teachings that used to make me feel good about being a poor farmer with a few apple trees we sold for a copper penny a piece.

“Do you even know what you did wrong? You tried to steal from the Republic. I can’t think of anything more horrible. Money is everything to us.” Mos said.

I blinked at her words, then opened a search screen and looked up goblins. She breathed heavily as I ran through article after article dumping the information into my mind rapidly. As I learned more about their culture, something felt off until I found an article about monster perks and their cultural impacts.

“You have a perk that improves all stats based on your clan’s wealth,” I said.

Mos sighed. “I’m here because I volunteered to be your wife. We are shamed because of you, and our resources are limited. I had to hide in my father’s house to escape it. The other gobs thought I was brave before, and they spit on me now. We’re ruined, and it's all your fault.”

More goblin perks and how they were unlocked for those adventurers obsessed with goblin fights, a sport that was outlawed 2000 years ago. So fairly recent from an adventurer history standpoint. I still couldn’t believe how successful ancient Rubicon had been. 10,000 years of existence as a republic was incredible.

Returning from the tangent, goblins mostly revolved around stuff and gained different evolutions based on what they had. Enchanted weapons of specific rarity would evolve the goblins into hobgoblins. While goblins grew stronger with their society, the hobgoblin diverged and gained levels from their equipment. Goblin lords, for instance, gained power from the wealth of their subjects, lands, and personal holdings. Other evolutions required goblins to gain skills from dungeons. Skills like those taken by the hobgoblins I worked with.

Knowing that I was being taken advantage of and knowing exactly how two very different experiences were. On the bright side, my Heavenly Tribulation suddenly grew greatly in strength against the Republic.

I adjusted my cauldron; there wasn’t much else I could do. Of course, goblins had a not taking loot policy especially with a perk that boosts everyone’s stats based on national wealth. Individual wealthy goblins wouldn’t make quite as much sense, and it explained why they were unwilling to cut me a deal.

“Since you’re mine, I’ll make you strong. Don’t worry; the human town is closer to the yellow line than we are,” I said.

Mos gave me an unsteady look. I opened a screen and made it visible to her. “Let’s watch something together while I figure out how to maximize my gains.” I brought up an adventurous form of entertainment called a cartoon and started playing it.

My goblin girl’s eyes widened at the moving portrait and sound as a story began about a girl in a horseless carriage driving to a new town. It took up her attention long enough for me to finish a few potion batches and isolate a few pills.

At the moving pictures, she finally shut her mouth. She let me concentrate on preparing my ingredients for the first stage of my testing. The hypothesis was simple: I wasn’t trying to do something that increased my strength permanently or anything like that. For my first experiment, I wanted to make a potion that regenerated health over time.

…

The old goblin healer regarded the workshop where the human alchemist created more potions than what was promised for a year in a week with contempt. He was glad he had set the payment as weekly in the quest instead of upon delivery. The human could quickly bankrupt their Republic if he put his mind to it. As a show of what the kids call soft power he limited the human’s choice of alchemic ingredients to no complaints. Instead, the human requested kobolds from the dungeon. A week later his niece traveled from the home to the local food stalls and back happily ignoring the dirty looks she received. Something had happened, and Blonca felt no closer to bringing the human to the bargaining table than before.

That scheme, fortunately, was only one in a long list of schemes the goblin official partook in daily. Once they negotiated a contract and assigned another quest requiring the human to spend time in dungeons for the betterment of the Republic in exchange for regaining a few privileges instead of earning from drops was issued and accepted their Republic rose quickly. All he had to do was put the human in a position where he saw no other option than to agree. It was a shame to do that to an ally, but humans couldn’t be trusted; they thought differently than goblins and obviously had questionable definitions of ownership and theft.

Once his bit of fun was over, he focused on other, more pressing matters.

Other goblin towns far from to the east sent yellow skinned envoys covered in sores and dripping with puss. The ground those gobs walked upon turned yellow and vile. If not for the human’s pills of disease cure, the yellow sickness would have poisoned them. A loss of livestock before their latest baby boom would be disastrous. There were already talks of rationing food, which led to many brawls in the Senate.

The human’s pills aided them in retaining their current herd but not in increasing their food supply. Fortunately, the dungeon helped with added meat.

His secretary, a green-skinned goblin girl with so much booty, walked in carrying a petition from the popular class. They were a group of numerous gobs but poor skilled tradesmen and warriors, so without the prospect of finding wives. Even the human alchemist deserved a bride to bind his descendants to the Republic. Human blood could be bred out in a few generations.

A cough dragged him out of his musings. “We have fifty thousand signatures requesting the state to issue wives to every goblin,” Cat said.

Blonca’s smirk was all teeth. “If they want wives, we have plenty to go around. I do hope they like scales.”

…

Seeing the description of my potion and seeing the effects on the kobolds were vastly different. A painful hiss took up my attention as the anally administered pill took effect. I set a timer, and every ten minutes cut the kobold to watch it slowly heal. When it stopped healing, I gave it a healing potion and recorded my results. The point of the pill was to help increase the rate of my training.

Blanca requested a meeting four days ago, and I blew the man off. Removing me wasn’t possible without canceling his quest. I checked to be sure, for better or worse this workshop was mine. I discovered that under a certain threshold, regeneration pills didn’t repair the body in a way that supported gains. Regenerating 100 HP per sec for an hour was great for keeping me alive in dungeons but terrible when I needed roughly 5HP per sec to make gains immediately from breaking my body during training.

As an experiment, I gave Mos a scroll of healing. When she read it, she had to eat a ton and gained 3 inches in two days. I searched for a while and found an old chart for training goblins in the most optimal way possible. Healing items and physical stat growth could see a goblin gaining a regen tank class. All they needed was a little stat growth before they finished becoming a hob. The process normally took two weeks to finish once started depending on available food sources.

I searched more in-depth and found that hobs weren’t limited by their Republic’s wealth. They were more personal wealth-based, and many evolutions furthered that perk tree. Over the next few days, I managed to tone down the effects of the regeneration pills to enhance the stat gain process instead of HP regen. After reading up on a few articles about healing and alchemy, healing to grow stronger and healing to return to a former state of health were two completely different concepts. I had to remove part of one with tribulation lightning to get the right effect.

Alchemy lvl9/9 Tier 1

Description: The world shutters when an alchemist that knows what they want enters the field. Craft not only potions but ingredients themselves to create highly specialized effects.

Hint: Tier Up Quest is required to reach the next tier.

There are tier-up quests. That led me to another round of research before I remembered what my short-term goal for Mos had become. It was more a seed of thought that started growing.

Natural Goblin evolution line

Goblin

Hob Goblin

Orc

Troll

Giant

Titan

That was the natural evolution with no interference from adventurers and their items. While all goblin variants were still goblins in nature, hobgoblin was a catch-all term. Goblin lords were technically between hobgoblin and orc. Articles also said that special or unique types existed. Items given to goblins to spur their evolution increased their stats overall, and their levels reflected that. Hobgoblins started at lvl15 but could be in the high 80s. Every extra step taken between the evolutions like ogre, oni, and bugbear greatly increased their stats for their next evolution. After giving the charts, stat growth, and skills they could learn a look over, I made my decision.

“Mos, I think you should start working out with me.”

“I’m not fat.”

“Did I call you fat?”

“I’m your bride, the mother of your gobs.”

“I can’t have sex.”

“I’m pregnant; it's yours in spirit.” I stared at the goblin girl, who tried desperately not to crack a grin. “Are you going to pay me if I work out with you?” Mos asked.

“You’re about to evolve into a hob.”

“I thought you were getting shorter.”

I rolled my eyes. “I want to give you some not cursed armbands that will help you get stronger faster. After I gave you the scrolls and maybe some potions, all we need to do is get your strength over 20 before you evolve.”

“No idea what that means,” Mos said.

I had a good look at her current stats, thanks to my system.

Name: Mos lvl8

Species: Goblin

Status: Wife

Perks: Goblin Nation

HP 800/800

MP 720/720

Stats

STR 7

DEX 11

VIT 10

INT 9

WIS 8

CHA 15

LUK 20

There were still six levels before she evolved. We had time.

“How long until your abstinence gear wears off?” Mos asked.

She had taken to calling it that after she started living with me in my workshop. Behind closed doors, all the timidness washed away as we spent more time together. She wasn’t completely crossing my bottom line, but she came close a few times.

I flexed, showing off what little of my body could be seen through my weighted skintight suit. All the body weight training had transformed my body into what I would tentatively call physical perfection. Only time, with a better diet of pills, potions, and items called natural treasures, would see me improve further.

Her sigh and casual spreading of her toned green legs brought me back to reality. “We’ll have to wait to have sex until my strength stat equals 1000 at least,” I said.

Mos nodded slowly. “Adventurers grow stronger by killing things. While at the market, I heard from the town crier that the army was recruiting mages for the catacombs. Mages that fill out an L28 form are allowed to keep one-fifth of every treasure found.” She handed me the form. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

I suddenly felt very nervous but didn’t know why. “Listen, I’m not trying to manipulate you.”

“Since when is giving gifts to make me stronger manipulation. My father gave me to you. I’m your property, and all I do is eat and sleep in your comfy bed. I would be bored out of my mind if not for those videos.” That brought up some interesting facts about this society and society as a whole.

Mos was property given to me by her father. That’s why she was here at all, but once given, she couldn’t go back. No, that wasn’t where my insight came from; societies like this one were the most successful. They had families with the father as the head of the household, a wife, and children. Together, they made up the building blocks of society. That was something to keep in mind.

“Ok, you know I want to help you become a hobgoblin. The higher your stats are before you evolve, the stronger you will be and the better class you’ll end up with.”

That was probably the reason for the stringent rules about theft. The leaders didn’t want common goblins becoming hobs and potentially overthrowing them. Wealth was a tool of upward mobility through evolution. The wealthier a goblin, the more powerful form they will evolve into. The wealthier a goblin society, the stronger the base goblin. Personal wealth was the key to their evolution, but societal wealth governed their base stats.

I felt like, for the first time, I understood goblin society at least a little bit and the reason for the shunning. They were tools to further limit the growth of goblins trying to gather their own wealth and evolve beyond the need for the goblin nation.

What would happen if I introduced ideas of gender equality and anarchic capitalism? How long before their societies evaporated?

Calling for a dungeon delve was bait to lure me in to further increase the wealth of the nation, raising the goblin stat line. When Blonca heard I had adventurer-like abilities he wanted to use me to further increase his personal wealth and raise the wealth of his nation.

Everything felt like it was falling into place. A bite on my hand alerted me to Mos currently stabbing her canines through my hand.

“Wake up. What do you want me to do while you’re gone?” Mos asked.

I pulled some arm and leg bands out of my inventory. Mos didn’t know it, but she was instrumental if I wanted to follow through with my burgeoning plan to destroy this Republic. Scrapping the plan would also work if I gained enough levels to overthrow Blonca in the dungeon.

…

Once again, I waddled my way into the dungeon, except this time as a member of a goblin mage team. The goblins kept looking at me and whispering to each other. “This guy is a great big target; we’re going to have it easy.” I wanted to roll my eyes. We were heading into catacombs filled the bursting with the undead. All I really needed to do was level up enough to go deeper and leave enough mobs to discourage these guys from following me. Then I just gathered every skill shard I could find and then left.

We were marched up to a massive walled camp surrounding the dungeon. We had our paperwork vetted before we were ushered into the dungeon. A team of burly hobs kept giving me glares as we traveled down to the second floor, where teams of hobs killed or captured kobolds the moment they spawned. Down another level, a massive kobold nearly 9ft from snout to tail leaped from the darkness with a mouth open dripping with poison. I reached out, but before I could make a move, a golden ax cleaved the kobold’s lizard head down the middle.

Brain matter fell out of the skull like yokes from a boiled egg. The warrior-classed hob gave me a satisfied smirk. “Those of you too slow to cast a spell will be ghost shit on the floor. Be quick and stay together, and we won’t have to clean you up after we settle the floor.” The hob said.

Silver and copper coins rolled on the ground only for goblin loot collectors to come in and put them in sacks. A pair of copper-plated boots appeared, sparking with electricity.

We were taken to a set of stairs leading down into the dark depths of the dungeon. I conjured tribulation lightning and let its sparks break away the darkness. The walls were stone-lined with lizard bones etched with runes of some kind. A chill filled the air, and the light from my lighting skill struggled as we descended. Pale white flowers covered the ground up to my knees, rolling in a cold breeze. A goblin sneezed and shook his head.

“They say this is only a beginner dungeon for adventurers. If that is so, we can see why they are so powerful. Did you see that loot that appeared on the kobold’s death?” A goblin said.

I turned to the hob to see him still at the top of the stairs; that wasn’t a good sign. He shut the door, leaving us trapped in the catacombs.

“Every gob for himself.” A green-skinned mage yelled and threw himself into the darkness.

Through the darkness, I saw a massive ethereal kobold lifting its massive neck to let the bitten-in-half goblin slide down its gullet. It shook its head from side to side, swallowing as the goblin’s legs twitched. Half our number froze, and the other half ran down another tunnel.

Alchemic Tier II Quest

Journey into a dungeon and gather ingredients for an xp gain potion.

My foot slammed down as I leaped to the side to dodge a pair of swiping talons. The air chilled where they passed, and I lashed out with my wand, launching shock spell roaches at the ghost.

Strength 150

Kobold Ghost lvl35

I hadn’t bothered looking at my stats in a long time. After so much pain, blood, and sweat, I wasn’t even close to getting where I needed to be. 1000 points was a massive climb, and every point was harder to get than the last. My only real option as to wear my weight and then break into a profession that can help me get stronger. But first, I needed to handle the ghosts.

More Kobold Ghosts rushed out from the walls, grabbing the goblins and ripping them apart. A fireball launched my way and I dodged just in time to see my vision consumed in orange light. I closed my eyes as the heat wave hit me. The explosion knocked me off my feet into a wall dozens of feet away.

I opened my eyes in total darkness. A little tribulation lightning lit my surroundings. Most of the goblins were dead, dying, or being feasted upon by the ghosts when they tried to run away. I watched my roaches, the three I made, turn into six before flying into a ghost.

My wand felt warm in my hand when I waved it for another three roaches. I felt my perk turn them into six, and then I made more. The ghosts turned toward me when I finished my 20th batch as a swarm of lighting roaches flew around me. A smile tugged at my lips as a ghost closed in, only to get zapped by 20 before breaking down into a puddle of ectoplasm. I took out a glass beaker and collected the stuff, but my quest wasn’t complete. Either it couldn’t be used to become an xp potion, or it wouldn’t count until I made one.

Level Up

Lvl25

That was fine; this place was perfect for my other rank-up quest.

Tactile Telekinesis Tier II Quest

Punch A ghost to true death.

It was good fortune there were ghosts. This was also my second time seeing a massacre, and I hardly felt a thing. It wasn’t unheard of humans didn’t generally see goblins dying as a bad thing. There was no visceral reaction, like if I killed a human, but I was still processing wiping out my home village. Mercy or not, I harvested their xp.

While my thoughts weren’t in the game, my roaches were. The rush of power from leveling up was also sweet. I could practically feel my body humming. I was a quarter way to getting the spells and perks I needed. At level 25, I could snag another class perk but held off on it. At level 100 and prestige, the perks and spells available would be the strongest.

I pulled back my fist and punched out at a ghost swooping in before my roaches could loop around for another blow. My fist passed through the ghost, and a claw made of ice slammed into my stomach. It bypassed my armor, and I felt my insides freeze as inches of claws threatened to rip my guts out. My roaches came around in the next instant. The ghost fried, leaving me thinking about how I was going to make my fist magical enough to make contact with a ghost.

Atom Lvl26

Pushing mana out was my first choice, and ghosts immediately turned their attention to me when I did. Sounding a dinner bell would have been less obvious. I sneezed and wiped my nose while blasting ghosts. Lightning blasted from my wand until the ghosts stopped coming.

“Atom,” I turned to see Marie standing in the dungeon and suddenly felt less than an apple. “I can appear here because ghosts can appear here easier. Why did you give up on freeing me? Was it too hard to try?”

“You aren’t Marie,” I said.

The girl’s blonde curls fell to the side, revealing yellow boils on her head that soon spread to her face. “I prayed to the Devs that you would save me. Sometimes, I dreamed that you would find a cure and I would become healthy again. Then I started to hate you and imagined you becoming sick while I grew healthier.”

I felt raw, like a nerve ripped out of flesh bared to the harshest wind and unforgiving desert. My face became stony while the shape of my sister slowly became more infected until all that was left of her was a raving zombie. My hand raised, and purple lightning crackled between my fingers. Contempt rose in me for the ghosts attempting to sway me with images of my sisters. Whether this was an apparition or hallucination, it didn’t matter to me. Everything had to die.