Harbingers of Change

Chapter 19

The time to show the other goblins tribes his master’s might had come and Rigur could not be more thrilled to be the one entrusted with leading the first attack. He and the other four wolf riders approached the neighboring goblin tribe’s territory in an exhilarating rush.

His new partner, the dire wolf that the wolf leader Ranga entrusted him with, was just as eager to show the master his worth. Even though it was the only thing uniting the rider and the wolf, their desire to serve Lord Momonga made them essentially a singular unit, working in perfect union. The shared skill of all monsters, Thought Communication, ensured it.

Although all five wolf riders were a fearsome sight, Rigur stood out even among them. He was one of very few entrusted with magical gear, a spear made of greenish-black metal, silver-colored plate armor with a blue tint, and a medium-sized metal shield of the same color.

{ Patrol of goblins incoming. Ten, maybe twelve. } His wolf communicated while twitching his nose.

{ Be prepared. We will try to capture them alive if possible. }

The wolf’s keen smell was on point and within a minute they reached a patrol of twelve goblins. The pitiful display of the small group, dressed in rags and armed with stone weapons, could pose no resistance. Five riders quickly surrounded the group as Rigur’s gaze passed over every goblin, looking for the group’s leader.

Even though he was like this not long ago, he felt no pity for the small creatures. They were from the tribe that once allied with his own and, when he and his people needed it the most, they turned their heads away and left them to die.

“W-we s-surrender great ones. P-please spare us.” One of the goblins stuttered.

“You and your lands now belong to Lord Momonga, the ruler of Tempest.” Rigur said in a calm impersonal voice and then turned to one of his companions, “Gobta, round them up and lead the group towards the main encampment. The rest of us will ride ahead.”

“Yes, Captain Rigur!” The hobgoblin replied with a quick salute and then pointed his spear at the goblins. Compared to the rest of the hobgoblins, Gobta hadn’t grown as much. He wasn’t exactly the brightest among them either, but one thing that stood out was his uncanny ability to adapt to almost any situation, no matter what kind of circumstances he found himself in.

Despite being turned down for a raiders position at first, he was the first of the hobgoblins to befriend a direwolf on his own. He was also the first to learn to work with his mount in such an effective manner that he bested the tribe’s best warriors. If not for his absolute lack of self-awareness, he would be the most dangerous goblin in his tribe.

Rigur and the rest of the riders moved on towards the village. He had visited these lands once before and had a general idea of where to find the village of this tribe.

Usually, the central settlement could be found on the highest hill within the territory, as they were easily defendable, especially for a weak race like goblins. A fair guess was that such a weak race survived this long only because most tribes lived close to the Dragon God’s cave and other monsters were afraid to entice his wrath.

Of course, there were wars between goblin tribes that happened as well. If there had been a terrible season and a tribe got low on food or females, then the only option remaining was to attack other tribes to replenish what was lost.

His trusty partner warned him once again that they were close to goblins and, by his estimate, it had to be the village.

Once all four riders emerged from the woods, the goblins launched a barrage of arrows at them. Rigur raised his shield, protecting his face and neck from the clumsy attack, while his wolf didn’t even bother to dodge them. The mighty beast couldn’t be harmed by such a pathetic attack and only closed its eyes for a moment, so a stray arrow didn’t harm his eyes purely by accident.

Before the goblins could shoot the second volley of arrows, four riders closed the distance between themselves and the flimsy wall that protected the village, and barged through it, each impaling a goblin on a spear just as the wolves tore apart the small creatures with their jaws.

Rigur lifted his spear up, displaying the impaled goblin’s corpse, and shouted, “Surrender and we may spare you!”

Part of him hoped that they would try to fight, but his more reasonable side wanted the goblins to just surrender and pledge loyalty to his master. His bloodthirsty part had to remain unsatiated, as the elder of the tribe prostrated himself and said,

“We surrender. Please spare us.”

Rigur got off his wolf, tore off the goblin’s corpse off his spear, and tossed it into the pile with the others. One of the master’s assistants, Lord Demiurge, had ordered them to gather any corpses they didn’t plan to eat, as he had some kind of experiments in mind. Logically, the corpses of goblins fit that criteria.

With a confident stride, he approached the old, shaking goblin and said, “Smart decision. One of your new masters will arrive soon. Gather up your tribe in orderly rows.”

Despite his advanced age, the elder quickly got back on his feet and organized the remaining tribe members.

“How many are away on duties at the moment?” Rigur asked, considering that it was before noon and many were likely out to hunt, gather and patrol the territory.

“Many are hunting and gathering. I can send for them, o great one.”

“Yes, gather all of them. But if anyone tries to run, we will find them.” Rigurd said in a threatening voice. His wolf partner let out a growl to put even more fear in goblins.

Seeing how much the small creatures shook in fear, it was clear that the threat was effective. The only thing that now remained was to wait for the entire tribe to be gathered and then report to Lord Demiurge, so that he could arrive and inspect the goblins.

With time to spare, Rigur took out a small cloth and wiped off the blood from the spear. Satisfied with the results, he inspected the spearhead’s bladed parts for sharpness, finding no cracks or chipping, and sat down on the grass with the wolf laying down beside him.

The goblins eyed him and the other hobgoblins from a safe distance in both fear and awe.

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Demiurge couldn’t be happier today. Lord Momonga approved him as the one who could try to give names to wolves and goblins. Of course, the permission came with the warning to check his magicule count as to run out, as once magicule reserves would be depleted, naming would draw from his innate reserves decreasing the archdemon’s overall power.

First came the wolves Ranga had captured by killing the alpha of their pack. Despite being rather weak by Nazarick’s standards, the massive creature held utmost loyalty to Lord Momonga, and thus Demiurge had no problems working with him. If anything, naming proved to be an interesting phenomena native to the world Nazarick was currently in. 

By giving outside creatures names, Lord Momonga essentially turned them into servants of equal standing as the natives of Nazarick. Of course, there still was a hierarchy, but someone like Ranga could issue commands to Nazarick’s pop monsters without direct oversight of his master.

After checking his appearance for any imperfections and taking his notebook with him, Demiurge teleported to the soon-to-be capital of Tempest where his test subjects awaited him.

As usual, the first to greet him was Rigurd the Goblin Lord.

“Good Morning Lord Demiurge, Ranga has gathered the wolves for you in the central square.”

“Good morning Rigurd. Thank you for the information. Is there any word from Rigur?”

“Not yet, my Lord.”

“Inform me when the goblins are gathered and keep up the good work,” Demiurge said while fixing his glasses.

He had noticed that Lord Momonga spoke kindly even to the lowliest of servants and by his observation, it drastically improved the morale of anyone who was addressed by the Supreme Overlord. It would be only natural for him, as someone who strived to be like the Supreme Beings, to emulate his behavior and observe the results.

There was no need to exercise his more cruel and sadistic side towards the ones who were already loyal servants. That part of him could be reserved for experimentation and interaction with prisoners.

The central road was already paved, so only a modicum of dirt stained his boots as he walked. Teleportation directly to the town center would have been faster, but he wanted to see the results of the hobgoblins’ labor himself. 

The fact that most hobgoblins just worked on, ignoring him, gave a certain feeling of satisfaction. He already knew he was better than the simple creatures, them cowering before him would only take away from the time they could use to make his Lord’s domain better.

Ranga awaited him, beaming with pride while the rest of the smaller wolves eyed him with uncertainty. Their fear was simply delicious, but time was of the essence and he couldn’t indulge in it.

A wolf, one slightly larger than the others, stood in front of the rest of the others, clearly the alpha of this particular pack.

Demiurge already had a name in mind. One he borrowed from the magnificent statues of the various demons on the tenth floor of Nazarick. The alpha would share a name with a chimeric demon dog depicted by one of the statues.

Already familiar with the naming and assured that naming entire pack at the same time would not take that much energy, Demiurge said loudly,

“I name you Marchosias, the Demon Wolf.”

The energy drain was noticeable but nothing worth paying a lot of attention to. The transformation of the wolves was much more interesting. The fur of the creatures darkened to a level that it looked like it was absorbing light around them. Their eyes turned red and glowed ominously, and their already impressive fangs grew even longer, giving them a permanent snarl.

The ones named by Momonga already looked fearsome, but the ones named by Demiurge were full-on nightmare-inducing.

Demiurge smirked, observing his creations. They surely would be perfect mounts for shock troopers.

“Who are you most loyal to?” Demiurge asked Marchosias.

“I am most loyal to you, my master.”

“What if Lord Momonga gives you an order contradicting mine?”

He needed to be sure where the named creatures’ loyalties lied and he already felt the entire pack had connected to Lord Momonga’s Nazarick skill. In theory, they should consider Lord Momonga their highest master, but he needed to be sure.

“I will ask you for clarification on whose order to follow.”

Demiurge took out his notebook and wrote down the information as he asked the next question.

“What if I order you to harm Lord Momonga?”

“Master would not do it.”

“Yes, of course, but for sake of argument, what would you do?”

“I will follow the master's order and perish by Lord Momonga’s hand.”

“What would you do if I ordered you to protect Lord Momonga from me?”

“I would perish by your hand while guarding Lord Momonga.”

The results sure were interesting. The mentality of a named monster was similar to that of Nazarick’s natives. With immaculate handwriting, Demiurge put the information in his report to Lord Momonga. His master needed to be aware of this fact when allowing others to name the monsters.

He was about to return to the seventh floor of Nazarick when Rigur contacted him.

{ Lord Demiurge, The conquered tribe has gathered for your inspection. }

{ I shall be there in a minute. }

“I will send you the coordinates where you can find the goblin tribe named by me. Gather your pack and arrive there as fast as possible.”

{ It shall be done, my master. } The massive dark wolf answered and let out a howl.

Demiurge teleported to the next location where neat rows of goblins awaited. The first glance at the creatures made him feel nothing but disgust. However, knowing how much they could be improved, Demiurge resisted the urge to wipe the pathetic creatures from the face of the world.

By using Lord Momonga’s method, he quickly mass-named them in his mind and observed the results. The goblins grew one by one and evolved into hobgoblins. That part was predictable, with Demiurge feeling somewhat disappointed that the newly named goblins looked just like the ones Lord Momonga named.

They grew taller, gained more muscle, and looked at themselves and each other. There was one notable characteristic that was different. Every single one now had black hair. Another thing Demiurge quickly noticed was that some looked at their new forms with smirks resembling his.

A quick questioning of the newly promoted Goblin Lord, Regurd, provided the same results as the questioning of the dire wolf alpha. With two instances of identical results, it could be assumed that named monsters would hold the highest loyalty to one who named them.

The demon wolves arrived through the shadows soon after the naming was finished. Demiurge once again had to admit that Pandora worked with extreme speed and efficiency, giving out appropriate skills to the newest additions to Nazarick’s forces.

Rigur, who watched everything from the side, made a mental note to himself to not get on Demiurge’s bad side. Seeing how just receiving a name from this demon could change someone to that degree, no doubt drawing his ire would have dire consequences.

Edited by Edgy.