True Nature of Goblins

The robed man gazed down at Chester, his eyes piercing through the young man's soul. After a moment of silence, he raised an eyebrow, acknowledging Chester's act of submission. With a stern yet calm voice, he spoke, "Stand up."

Chester hesitated for a moment but stood up, still feeling the weight of the man's presence.

"A goblin invasion?" the robed man questioned, seeking confirmation.

Chester nodded, his unwavering conviction evident on his face.

"Your belief in their existence might be unwavering, but the villagers' doubt is undeniable. They fear what they cannot comprehend. It is not your place to convince them," the robed man explained, his words carrying a hint of wisdom.

Chester listened intently, curious about the man's perspective.

"However, the threat of an external invasion is undeniable." The robed man's gaze shifted towards the mountains, his focus sharpening. His eyes narrowed as he continued in a gruff voice, "Their skepticism does not invalidate the need for action. You called them goblins…"

His gaze fixed on the distant horizon, the man sighed. "Those are the younger generation of demonic cultists who failed to meet the requirements and fell victim to Qi deviation. If they are not used as training for the new generations, they are released as a blight to thin the wildlife on the other side of the demonic ridge, spreading demonic Qi in the air."

The man's words seemed familiar to Chester, triggering a memory of the term "Qi deviation." Seeking clarification, Chester inquired, "Qi deviation?"

The robed man chuckled softly, then proceeded to explain, "It occurs when you practice a faulty cultivation technique or lose focus while circulating your breathing technique. In the best-case scenario, you experience a painful death. Otherwise, you end up crippled. And if you practice demonic arts, there's a possibility of your Qi running in reverse, altering your body."

Realization washed over Chester, his eyes widening in horror. 'He said youngsters...those goblins were humans. By their size, you could say they hadn't made it to their teens. Fuck. Death, or worse.'

Terror gripped Chester's heart, and he felt his breath quicken. It was the first panic attack he had experienced in years. 'He didn't mention anything about respawning.'

"We will prepare for the worst, in case the cultists are behind the invasion rather than simply releasing them for later sport hunting. I shall gather those who can fight. You can lead the way; I saw your speech, and you just may be able to inspire them and raise their morale," the robed man declared with determination.

Chester's trembling eyes met the robed man's face. 'Fight that many?' he thought, overwhelmed by the daunting task ahead. "Lead? Sir, I can count maybe thirty villagers, but there are thousands," he pleaded, feeling the pressure crushing him.

"You brought them here. If you don't lead, who will?" When Chester raised his head to beg for help, the man had vanished.

Confused and searching, Chester found himself surrounded by concerned villagers. The weight of the situation bore down on him. That formidable man had entrusted him with the task of leading the defense.

'It's a forced quest... Maybe hackers are forced into a death game.' Seeking solace, he activated [Heal], the familiar sensation helping to ground him.

Taking a deep breath, he turned to face the concerned villagers. "I won't let the village fall to these demonic beings. We'll rally the defenders and do everything in our power to protect this village."

From the other side of the village, the robed man looked at Chester and nodded approvingly. Though his voice echoed in Chester's ears, its origin remained unknown. "Good. Remember, it is not enough to simply warn others. You must act decisively. Now go, gather the willing, and prepare for the battle to come."

With those final words, the robed man vanished, leaving Chester with the weighty responsibility of rallying the village's defenses.

Looking around, he saw only eight adults armed and in fighting condition. The rest of the villagers were women and children. 'Fucking hate defend the objective.' A quick glance at the boat still on the shore confirmed his resolve to fight until he found a chance to escape.