Blurred and fragmented, there are many memories the goblin hid deep within its heart. I can't get the full picture, only superficial information.

Its first instinct when born was to liberate its race with big ambition. Among the dark cave, it was special. It was physically stronger and smart, able to quickly learn different languages of different races from mere listening. 

The goblin will often spy on battles of different races and attempt to recreate techniques. In the end, it found comfort when using an axe and trained with it day and night. Nevertheless, it lacked knowledge about the world.

When it grew into a young adult, it encountered humans but many fell prey to its strength. It started raiding passing merchants and came across "books", a mysterious device with many imprinted scrolls. Those books brought new insight to the goblin's mind. 

Amidst a route through the forest, a merchant cart lies shattered with blood, splinters of wood and corpses scattered. A hired escort attacked the goblin, which it easily avoided and hacked the arm off. 

"ARGGHHHH!!!" The escort cried out. The next thing he saw was the goblin's palm, crushing his skull to eternal agony. 

"W-What the fuck?! A-A mere goblin..." The last remaining survivor exclaimed. The pressure emanated overwhelmed his survival instinct, only waiting for death as he trembled. However, the goblin stopped before him and asked "Who is the strongest?" 

"W-What?" 

The sudden question threw the human's rationality into disarray. Still, he answered, "I-It's unclear who truly is the strongest but I know of the continent's top rankers." 

The human began listing fighters of various backgrounds. Warriors, Mages, Archers, or even Tamers, humans used whatever resources they had to grow. The goblin was surprised to hear of their achievements as literal walking disasters capable of levelling cities and mountains. For the first time, it thought of itself as weak. 

It was sceptical after a while. Perhaps that human was lying. The goblin's arrogant thoughts were humbled a few months later when it was defeated in two moves. The sword had an outburst of light that completely overwhelmed it, that was its first encounter with "Aura". It closed its eyes, awaiting judgment from the human swordsman until a young female stopped the execution. 

"This goblin is special, I can see it." She said. Its saviour lowered herself to the goblin and it realised her right eye was grey, blind, yet her left azure eye was gleaming with beauty. The girl could see the innate self through her blind pupil. 

Curious about what she truly was seeing, the goblin was captured and brought back to a familiar terrain. An underground paradise.

Rather than the constraints of its nest, the new paradise boasts large traffic and a thriving atmosphere. 

Lights, colours, odd machinery, a new world was introduced.

It was a prisoner within metal bars and the subject of contempt by passing humans. Yet, it was in awe. 

"Beautiful." It said. 

It soon learned the identity of the young girl. She was the princess of this land. The goblin wondered why when the girl was so weak.

The next memory it had was darkness surrounded by papers, scrolls, and books. Bookshelves and two tables beside its cage were all there stood. 

As the princess lit the room, inscriptions and notes vandalized the walls. The girl seemed to be researching something and was overly curious about everything. 

"How are you so smart?" She asked the goblin.

"I am just smart." The goblin replied. 

"Eh? That's not normal though!" 

"The others are stupid. I'm special!" 

"Hm...you are." The girl said with a bright smile. 

From then on, the goblin was the princess' "personal pet". She wanted to test the limits of the goblin's knowledge so she taught the goblin theories. She wanted to test some potions so the goblin was her canvas. Time went on, the goblin had never stepped foot out of the room but it was content. It had food and no danger, a truly comfortable life. In addition, the company of the princess was...unique. The goblin wasn't sure what it felt but it wanted to stay forever; It had abandoned its goblin origin. 

Two years went by. The goblin frequently sneaked around the castle, eavesdropping on humans, and enjoying the adventure. Another year down. Servants became aware of its existence and a long conflict explodes. Nevertheless, the princess resolved the majority by explaining how unique the goblin was. It showed politeness and apologized for its actions, shocking the servants with its fluent composure and "human" attitude. 

Sometime later, the goblin was accepted as one of them, albeit still trapped within the castle. 

But it did not matter. It was happy with peace. It found a new warmth.

...

A feeling of cold shivers engulfs me as I attempt to continue the memory gallery. Anger, sadness, and disappointment. The three core emotions stemming from the depth of his soul. 

A man it deeply loathes yet imprinted an unimaginable fear. 

...

It was the girl's birthday. A large celebration of a lifetime painted the kingdom, with joyous cheers from every corner. But it was short-lived before an unknown force secured the entire kingdom, none left or entered, not even the sound. A mysterious invader massacred every single life under the decoration of wishes and presents. 

Abhor screams for help became the birthday song. There was nowhere to run.

The princess hid the goblin in the room and passed a small mundane rock in its hands. "D-Do not lose this, alright? Just stay...here...and everything will be alright. Don't make a sound...don't come out..." She says, attempting to maintain her usual cheerful smile. But even a toddler could sense the fear in her voice. 

The Goblin immediately sense an otherworldly sensation upon touching the stone. It shared senses with everything in the kingdom and could observe everyone. The rock was the "key" to the kingdom. A curse in disguise. It had to watch all that it loved split apart, torn by the hands of the murderer. It could see the expression and look of the invader. A cold-blooded mundane expression, empty black eyes that lost hope. The man had long brown hair tied up into a ponytail with a clean and potent aura washing the atmosphere. 

It wanted to help. Fright rooted the goblin helpless. 

A sword flies around the man slaughtering everything in existence. 

In the end, he reached the throne room where the king and the last survivors stood. 

"W-Why are you doing this?" the king asked. 

The invader looked around. "One is missing. The princess." He said and clicked his tongue.

...

The King steps up. "What you seek is not here! We do not have the map to the Tears of The World! Such are mere rumours!" 

The invader...or should I say martial artist sought zero nonsense and butchered everyone, his flying sword ripping air apart.

The sword cut through the throne chair to reveal a small opening. 

He sighed and gazed around. 

"What am I doing..." He mumbled. "To save my people, how many must die?"

he clenched his fist and furrowed his brow. "Damn it..." 

The memory cuts off and tosses my consciousness into a black void. I can't sense the goblin's soul anymore. 

================ 

"Loi!" Morja's voice echoes in my head. I nonchalantly open my eyes to find myself atop the goblin's corpse. 

I pull myself up and wipe the blood off my face. 

"What happened? Did you use your powers?" 

I nod. 

"This kingdom fell twenty-five years ago..." I mumble to myself. I turn to the goblin. "To think this goblin can be twice my age." 

I'm unsure of what occurred afterwards that led to the demonic cultivation but I might be able to guess what happened. The goblin uses the same technique as mine but is downgraded. This whole demonic thing might be the work of the real Morja or someone similar to "livestock farming", a popular method used by demonic cultivators where they teach someone how to cultivate, wait until they grow, and kill them to absorb their cultivation.

After the kingdom fell, the goblin lost its mind. It locked away the memory and developed an obsession to protect the legacy under the pretext of liberating his race. 

I sigh and start absorbing the large demonic energy oozing from the corpse. 

...

As one myself, I could feel the nature of that martial artist in the memory. One of the complete opposite, an orthodox martial artist. He has a goal of finding the Tears of The World, the ultimate treasure of legends. 

Such may be the initial plans of the outworlders. Perhaps failure triggered the war between them and us inhabitants. 

Alas, nothing can quench such thoughts now.