The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

Mikhailis stretched his sore limbs, feeling the dull ache left from yesterday's spar with the Goblin Apostle. The warmth of the grand feast still lingered in his mind—goblins laughing, dancing, eating, and for a moment, it almost felt like a real community. But as the embers of the night's fires cooled, the atmosphere changed. The mood was different now—not the relaxed one of a feast, but a charged tension hanging in the cold morning air.

He walked through the courtyard, watching goblins as they moved purposefully, gathering weapons and whispering among themselves. Gone were the relaxed, almost jubilant expressions from last night. Now, their faces showed focus, determination—and a little fear. Mikhailis couldn't help but feel a pang of unease as he saw it. The Goblin Apostle's announcement had changed everything. They were going to war—again. This time, the target was the humans.

He shook his head, letting out a sigh.

They really are a bunch of battle-hungry maniacs.

He turned his attention towards his own group—eighty goblins, split into four sub-groups of twenty. They looked up at him, their eyes expectant. He could see a mixture of fear and faith there, and that was a new feeling for him. He had never led anyone before—at least, not like this.

"Alright, everyone, listen up!" Mikhailis called out, his voice echoing through the courtyard. The goblins quieted, their eyes fixed on him. He put on his best serious face, trying not to let the awkwardness show.

"We're going out there today, and it's gonna be dangerous. But if we stick together and use our heads, we'll get through it. So make sure your weapons are ready, keep your eyes open, and most importantly... don't do anything stupid."

One of the goblins, a scrawny one with a scar running across his cheek, raised his hand. "Chief, uh... what if... run into humans? What we do?"

Mikhailis gave a crooked smile, shaking his head slightly. "You run. Or at least make sure you're not the slowest one. I'll deal with the humans if we meet them. Just remember—we stick together, no matter what. Got it?"

The goblins nodded, murmuring amongst themselves. They looked more at ease now, some even chuckling at his words. Mikhailis looked at them, feeling a strange sense of responsibility.

This is it. I'm really in this now.

Just then, a loud voice boomed from the other side of the courtyard. The Goblin Apostle stood on a raised platform, his wooden scales catching the dim morning light. His dark aura radiated authority, and the goblins turned to face him, their chatter falling silent.

"Today... we attack! Humans... take land! We take back! Prepare!" The Apostle's voice was rough, simple, yet it held power. He raised his massive arm, pointing towards the forest that lay beyond the fortress walls.

"Shamans... scouts... riders. All move! Find enemy. Find weak spots. Today... we win!"

A cheer rose from the crowd, the goblins raising their weapons, their voices a mix of excitement and fear. Mikhailis felt the energy around him shift—the anticipation, the adrenaline. He clenched his fists, his eyes narrowing as he looked towards the forest.

This isn't just a raid—they're going all out. And I've got to make sure I survive this... somehow.

The goblins began to move, their groups forming, the shamans gathering around a massive, writhing creature near the center of the courtyard. Mikhailis watched, curiosity piqued. The creature was unlike anything he'd ever seen before—its body was covered in thick, dark vines, its form twisted and massive. Shackles held it in place, the chains glowing faintly with dark magic. It looked almost like... a giant beetle.

Mikhailis took a step closer, squinting as the shamans began to chant, their voices low and rhythmic. The beetle—no, the TangleBeetle queen—shifted, her eyes glowing a faint green as she let out a low, rumbling sound. The vines on her body seemed to pulse, and from the hole beneath her, a swarm of smaller TangleBeetles began to emerge, their bodies glistening in the dim light.

"Whoa..." Mikhailis muttered, his eyes widening. The beetles moved as one, their legs skittering across the ground, their movements precise, almost coordinated. The shamans raised their staffs, their chants growing louder, and the beetles began to form a line, their bodies glowing faintly with the same dark energy that surrounded the shamans.

So this is how they do it, Mikhailis thought, watching as the beetles moved towards the gate, the shamans following behind them.

They're using these creatures as part of their plan... using them to scout ahead.

It was both fascinating and terrifying. The level of control the goblins had over these monstrous creatures was something Mikhailis hadn't expected. He watched as the beetles moved, their bodies disappearing into the shadows of the forest, the goblin riders following close behind on their wolves.

The Goblin Apostle turned, his eyes meeting Mikhailis's for a brief moment. There was something there—a challenge, perhaps. A reminder that Mikhailis was expected to play his part. Mikhailis nodded slightly, turning away, his heart pounding in his chest.

He looked down at his hands, frowning at the sight of the tattoos that now covered his arms. They were intricate, dark lines that twisted and turned across his skin, almost like vines. He remembered the fruit the Apostle had given him—the one he had been forced to eat. He still didn't know what it had done to him, but the tattoos were a constant reminder that something had changed.

Maybe I can use dark magic now... but I don't feel anything.

He clenched his fists, trying to focus, to feel something—anything. But there was nothing. Just the dull ache in his muscles and the heaviness of his responsibilities.

"Chief!" one of the goblins called out, snapping Mikhailis out of his thoughts.

"We're ready! Move!"

Mikhailis looked up, nodding.

"Alright. Let's get going. Stay sharp, everyone. We're just scouting today, so don't go looking for trouble." He paused, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "Unless trouble finds us first."

The goblins chuckled, their tension easing slightly. Mikhailis led them towards the forest, his eyes scanning the shadows, his mind focused. This was his chance—a chance to learn, to figure out what the goblins were planning, and maybe, just maybe, find a way to turn things in favor of the humans.

The forest was dark, the thick canopy blocking out most of the sunlight. Mikhailis moved carefully, his group following close behind, their eyes darting around, their weapons ready. He could hear the distant sounds of the goblin riders and the TangleBeetles, their movements barely audible over the rustle of leaves and the creaking of branches.

This is more organized than I thought, Mikhailis mused, watching as the goblin forces moved with precision.

They're not just a bunch of mindless brutes—they've got strategy, coordination. This isn't good.

They moved deeper into the forest, the air growing colder, the shadows lengthening. Mikhailis kept his senses sharp, his eyes scanning for any sign of humans. He knew that they were out here somewhere—the goblins wouldn't be preparing for an attack if they weren't. He just had to find them first.

Suddenly, a flicker of movement caught his eye. Mikhailis froze, raising his hand to signal his group to stop. He squinted, his eyes narrowing as he focused on the figure moving through the trees. It was a human—no, several humans. They were moving cautiously, their armor glinting faintly in the dim light.

Mikhailis's heart skipped a beat.

Humans. Scouts, maybe? He watched as they moved closer, their eyes scanning the forest, their weapons drawn. And then he saw her—a tall, imposing figure with blonde hair tied in a ponytail, her armor gleaming, her presence commanding.

Vyrelda.

Mikhailis's breath caught in his throat. This girl—Queen Elowen's personal knight, a [King] rank swordsman. He had heard stories of her strength, her skill with the blade. And now, here she was, right in front of him.

Right when he is in a goblin body.

She never like him even when he was at his original body as the prince consort, moreover if he became a goblin like this.

This is bad.

Mikhailis glanced at his group, their eyes wide with fear. He knew they didn't stand a chance against someone like her. Not with her refined magic, her strength. He clenched his jaw, his mind racing.

But I can't do anything suspicious yet. I have to do something. I need to relay the message. But I can't let Vyrelda know that this goblin is me as well, it will direct unwanted attention to me, I supposed to be just a no-good prince consort, after all.

He stepped forward, his movements deliberate, his heart pounding in his chest. Vyrelda's eyes snapped towards him, her gaze sharp, her expression unreadable. Mikhailis raised his club, his muscles tensing.

Here goes nothing.

"Stop right there!" he called out, his voice steady, though his heart was racing. The human knights froze, their eyes locking onto him. Vyrelda stepped forward, her hand resting on the hilt of her sword.

"A goblin... commanding others?" she said, her voice cold, her eyes narrowing.
Experience more on empire

"How unusual."

Mikhailis grinned, trying to mask his fear.

"Yeah, well, I'm full of surprises. But I'm afraid I can't let you go any further."

Vyrelda's eyes flickered with amusement, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"And you're quite fluent in human language as well... And what do you plan to do about it, goblin?"

Mikhailis didn't have time to respond. She moved—fast, faster than he had anticipated. Her sword flashed, the blade cutting through the air towards him. Mikhailis barely managed to raise his club in time, the force of the blow sending a shockwave through his arms, his muscles straining.

She's strong—too strong.

He gritted his teeth, his head becoming hot as his instincts kicked in. He moved, his body reacting almost automatically, his training from his days as the Ruslanian Prince guiding him. He ducked under her next strike, his movements fluid, precise. He wasn't stronger than her—not even close—but he had technique. He had skill.

Vyrelda's eyes widened slightly as he dodged her blows, her expression shifting from amusement to something more serious. She moved again, her strikes faster, more precise. Mikhailis felt his heart pounding, his breath coming in short gasps as he struggled to keep up. He needed to do something—anything—to get out of this.

He reached into his pocket, his fingers brushing against the piece of parchment he had hidden there. The map—the one with the location of the goblin base, the details, the plans. He needed to get it to them—somehow. He slipped the parchment from his pocket, his movements quick, almost instinctive. He ducked under another strike, slipping the parchment into the hands of one of the knights who had stepped forward to attack.

Good! It's there!

He shook his head, his grin fading.

But...

"This woman... she's too strong," he muttered, his eyes narrowing.

And somehow, I've got to find a way to make it out of this alive.