I stood silently, surveying the goblins gathered before me. Their bodies were lean—emaciated, even. Malnourished. Weak. Compared to the goblins of my nation, they were a shadow of what goblin-kind should be.
"So this is the state of goblins in this world," I thought. "Pitiful. Fragile. But not beyond saving."
My gaze swept over them once more before I spoke.
"Do all of you understand your current situation?"
"Yes, sir! We are prepared to face death if needed!" cried the goblin at the front, a crimson bandana tied proudly around his head. He saluted with fierce determination, echoed by the firm stances of the others clutching their crude weapons.
I raised a hand, calming their fiery resolve. "There's no need to be so tense. With me here, victory is no more than a passing event. Save your strength. You'll need it soon enough."
The goblins broke into smiles—some timid, some wide with relief. The presence of power brings solace to the powerless.
Turning to the elder goblin beside me, I asked, "May I see the wounded?"
The elder nodded solemnly and guided me to a makeshift tent built of wood and leaves. Inside, a dozen goblins lay scattered across straw mats. Most bore crude bandages. All were in pain.
"We did what we could," the elder said quietly, his voice heavy with helplessness. "But…"
He trailed off. I walked closer to one of the injured. Large claw marks marred his chest—deep, angry wounds from a beast's savage assault.
"It's worse than I thought," I murmured.
I placed my hand above the goblin's chest and exhaled slowly. "Hah… Ent."
Green magic circles formed beneath each wounded goblin, illuminating the tent with a gentle emerald glow. The light embraced their bodies, sinking into flesh, mending torn muscles, knitting skin.
The elder gasped. "Y-your wounds…!"
The injured goblins sat up, eyes wide as they examined their now-healed forms.
"They're… gone. The pain… It's gone!"
"You are… magnificent, Great Arceus!" the elder exclaimed, falling to his knees. The others followed in reverence.
I nodded solemnly. "Enough kneeling. There's work to be done. Gather everyone. Build fences. Fortify the village. Tonight, we prepare for battle."
---
Night fell over the Great Forest of Jura. The moon hung at its peak like a pale eye gazing upon the world. From the shadows of the trees, the dire wolves advanced—led by a towering grey beast with a jagged scar over his left eye.
"It's a fine night," the pack leader growled from atop a boulder, his pack standing below him in silent anticipation.
"Veldora's protection has faded. This forest is ours for the taking."
He raised his snout to the sky. "Tonight, we destroy the Goblin Village and claim this land as our new den!"
The wolves howled in unison.
"Our fangs tear through any flesh. Our claws shatter armor and bone alike!"
Another howl. The forest trembled.
Then they ran.
Through brush and root, they charged—until the village finally came into view. But something was different.
The goblin village… was fortified.
The wolves halted. The pack leader narrowed his eyes. Wooden fences surrounded the settlement. Behind them, goblins stood, weapons in hand, no longer trembling.
"Hah! Such pitiful walls. Do they truly think twigs can stop us?"
A younger wolf stepped forward beside him—a beast with sleek blue fur, a white mane, and a glowing star-shaped mark on its forehead.
"Father," the young wolf muttered, pointing toward the gate.
There I stood.
Clad in a black robe, my gaze unwavering, I waited in the moonlight.
"A man?" the leader sniffed. "No... his scent is not human. A monster, then, wearing a human's skin."
I stepped forward, voice calm but resolute. "Turn back now. Or face the consequences of crossing me—Arceus Velgriath, the Monster King of Unity."
"Insolent fool! No human, no monster, commands us!"
The pack leader bared his fangs. "Tear down that fence! Slaughter the goblins! Bring me his head!"
The wolves surged forward.
But arrows rained down. One by one, wolves fell, pierced through the gaps of the fence with precision.
"Fools," I said. "You march toward your own demise."
"Enough!" the pack leader roared and lunged toward me, fury burning in his eyes. "I'll kill you myself!"
"Great Arceus!" the goblins cried from behind the wall, but I did not move.
"Girel."
My eyes ignited with purple flames. Crimson magical threads shot into the air, binding the massive wolf mid-leap. He thrashed violently.
"W-what is this?! Let me go!"
"You will find no freedom in defiance," I replied coldly.
"Riga Shreyd."
A ring of wind formed around my fingertip—razor-sharp and humming with magical energy. With a flick, it flew forth and cleaved through the wolf's neck in an instant.
The pack leader's head hit the ground. Silence followed.
I stepped forward, facing the stunned wolves.
"Your leader is dead. Submit now, or join him."
The wolves growled, uncertain. I snapped my fingers.
The leader's body turned to black ash, scattering on the wind. Then I released a sliver of my monster authority.
A violent wind swept across the battlefield, pulsing with my aura. My purple irises narrowed into monstrous slits. The wolves staggered beneath the pressure—until one by one, they knelt.
"Our pack… yields."
The goblins erupted with cheers. Tears fell. Joy spilled over.
Victory was ours.
---
Morning came, bathing the village in golden light. Goblins and wolves alike stood before me in the village center.
"With the wolves under our command, the strength of this village has multiplied," I said.
"From now on, each of you goblins will pair with a wolf. You will live as partners, share in hunting and defense. You will grow stronger—together."
The goblins began to chatter, but I raised a hand.
"There is more. To build a proper future, we need food, clothing, and shelter. I will divide everyone into teams. Some will hunt. Others will build. The rest will work on fortifying our defenses."
I paused, looking at the goblin with the red bandana. "…What is your name?"
The goblin blinked. "W-we monsters… don't usually have names."
The elder nodded. "Names are not common among us. We speak with thoughts, feelings. It has always been that way."
"I see…" I said thoughtfully. "Then allow me to grant you names."
Gasps filled the air. Even the wolves looked stunned.
"Are you certain?" the elder asked, voice trembling.
"Yes. Stand in line."
One by one, goblins and wolves lined up before me. I turned to the elder first.
"In honor of your late son Rigur, your name shall be Rigurd."
The elder fell to his knees. "Thank you… I, Rigurd, am eternally grateful."
I turned to the goblin with the red bandana. "And you—his brother—will inherit the name Rigur."
"Thank you! I will carry it proudly!"
On and on the naming continued. Each name I bestowed carried a spark of my power, forming a bond between us.
Later, Rigurd approached hesitantly. "We're deeply grateful, Lord Arceus… But are you certain you can handle naming so many at once? We know such acts drain magic..."
I gave him a confident nod. "Worry not. I am not so easily depleted."
With awe and joy, Rigurd bowed and rejoined the others.
Next came the wolves. They stood before me—proud beasts once feared, now loyal allies.
And they, too, would receive their names.
A new era had begun.