A goblin shaman’s perspective.

As the night passed, far to the south, the ravaging howls of terror continued shaking the land of this cruel world, Artana.

The unison of the heartless voices sang in honor of their goddess, “blood! Blood! Blood!”

“10 children! Two survivors!” The shaman, the oldest magician in the green kingdom, extended his wooden staff, pointing at all the newborns: the gobogos.

“You shall do anything to survive.”

The cheers went on, “fight! Fight! Fight!”

He struck the bottom of his weapon on the ground, creating silence: in such a place, power meant everything.

“Win to earn the right of the ceremony!” Unlike humans, these fellows made their children fight to have the right to go through the system ceremony, which acted differently according to each race.

Green creatures, grotesque, vile, fierce fighters, and heartless warriors, such were the goblins around, who started stepping the floor, clapping, making a heavy tune, bringing pressure to the younger ones.

The children remained around an enormous bonfire, picking the diverse weapons on the floor, and attacking one another sharply.

One of them went for a long stick, using it to push a foe into the bonfire, burning him. He pushed him further deep into the fire to make sure it died, stopping only when he heard the message from the system, granting him experience and the kin slayer title.

“Goblin fried!” A big goblin yelled, rolling on the dirty ground laughing, increasing the amusement around.

On the other side of the bonfire, the smell of burnt meat and blood entrained the nose nostrils of the shy goblin children, causing fear and panic to enter their brains.

They quickly picked a weapon at random and jumped against one another, a dagger hitting the elbow of one, and a different one hitting the eye of the other.

The one-eyed one started running away from the goblin who hurt him, colliding against another one behind him.

Due to the impact, the young one was pushed onto a sword that awaited in front of him, causing his death.

The feet smacked on the floor, causing it to vibrate like a minor earthquake, getting fiercer and louder as the goblins died.

The older ones around started yelling, “kill, kill, kill, kill, kill!”

He pulled the sword out of the corpse and took a step on the deceased body, using it as a step to jump higher, slashing at the neck of the one-eyed goblin who fell because of the collision, making his head roll on the floor causing blood to spur on the ground.

Without time to waste, he climbed on the new corpse, running towards the goblin, who was dumbfounded, looking at him with a dagger in his left hand.

They struck one another, briefly clashing weapons. The one wielding the dagger moaned in pain as blood poured out of his shoulder.

The one wielding the sword kicked the opponent’s stomach and then lifted his weapon upwards to slash the one in front. However, fear reigned over his opponent, causing him to thrust the dagger deep into his foe’s chest. Blood came out of his mouth as he lost the strength to hold the sword, causing it to fall by itself.

The weapon ruthlessly sliced the right hand of the goblin, whose dagger became stuck in the opponent’s body, ending up screaming from pain.

“HANDLESS ONE! HANDLESS ONE! HANDLESS ONE!” a goblin warrior yelled repeatedly, exhilarated by the clash between the children in front of him.

A moment earlier, on the other side of the bonfire, the goblin who fried one of them used the same tactic to push another with the long stick. It forced the enemy to take a few steps toward a different opponent, causing them to fight.

Without wasting much time, the stick wearer turned around, checking on every opponent. He then noticed the screams of the handless one, running at him, picking a nearby sword on the way. Once the goblin got closer, he stabbed it in the back of the enemy’s neck, putting an end to his pain.

He looked around once again, finding two leftover foes. Checking how far he was from them, his hand got hold of a dagger, removed it from the corpse, and then threw it with all his strength at the back of one of them. Because of the lack of precision and strength, the dagger curved, hitting the foot of one of them, making him scream in pain, raising both arms.

This allowed the other one to slash his arms and then his neck. The blood squeezed out from the opened neck, spraying into the surroundings.

The remaining two goblins glanced fiercely, madly, ecstatic at each other, preparing for the last duel.

The sound of a particular staff with bells echoed throughout the surroundings, causing everyone to grow quiet.

“The goddess Luna has offered us a goblin with an actual brain, and another who knows when to take his chances.”

Upon hearing those words, everyone around the two survivors started laughing, clapping in honor of their feats.

“In the name of the goddess Luna, mother of us all, who keeps an eye on the goblin tribe, we welcome you two to the family.”

The shaman smacked the staff two times on the floor, and a party to celebrate went on.

A while later, the old one with the staff moved closer to the monarch, who was watching the festival. He bowed, hearing its almighty voice from above.

“When the time comes, I shall name the one who pushed the goblin into the fire. He might become a great leader one day.”

“As you command almighty goblin king, Vrag.”

‘Soon we will destroy those filthy humans,’ he thought as his fiery eyes looked into the thousands of goblins in front of him. “Soon.”