The Crown Prince Who Raises a Side Character

Episode 7: Novice Adventurer Bern (5) – Unique Individual

Episode 7: Novice Adventurer Bern (5) – Unique Individual

Blanca’s decision was swift.

“Let’s head back.”

Bern turned his gaze to her.

“Why is that?”

“If they’re reduced to using human clothing just as wrapping cloths, it means they’ve secured a considerable amount of it. And the only way wild goblins would secure human clothing in such quantity is by raiding villages. Furthermore, if they’re even crudely recreating and wielding weapons, it means this group of theirs has grown larger than we can imagine.”

The intelligence of goblins was, by human standards, akin to that of a young child.

Yet even a child could form a society, and learn things besides.

Of course, they couldn’t maintain a civilization as sophisticated as that of humans, but even a clumsy imitation was threat enough.

“Two adventurers alone can’t muddle through this. We need to return to the Guild, inform them of the situation, and get the local lords to dispatch troops, or else have adventurers mobilize in force.”

Blanca’s words were, at least by her standards, reasonable.

But Vern regarded her with a puzzled air.

“You think that’ll work?”

“Hm?”

“Didn’t you say yourself, a moment ago, that the lords don’t even budge easily when it concerns matters within their own territories? You think they’ll even pretend to listen if the Guild starts clamoring about sending out an extermination squad?”

“……”

That was unlikely.

Even they, having only just arrived in the vicinity, knew this much. There was no way the lord was ignorant of it all.

And yet, instead of moving his troops directly, the lord had requested an extermination from the Guild.

And even that was just a request for a few adventurers, not a large-scale campaign.

In other words, he either lacked the ability, or the will, to actively resolve the matter, despite knowing about it.

“The Adventurers’ Guild is the same. To mobilize adventurers, there needs to be sufficient compensation. Who would provide that?”

“…Ha.”

Blanca let out a hollow laugh.

It wasn’t mockery directed at Vern.

It was self-deprecation, aimed at herself, for failing to consider the obvious—something even a newbie like Vern could readily grasp.

“So, what do we do?”

“We’ll handle it.”

“Huh?”

Blanca’s face went blank for a moment, then she frowned.

“Listen here. I know you’re strong, and I’m sure you’re confident in your abilities. But we’re talking about a goblin horde that could easily be in the triple digits. How do you plan to handle that with just a sword?”

“We have to handle it. I’ll have to take down liches with just a sword later on, after all.”

“──.”

This time, Blanca was truly speechless.

Not because of Bern’s words themselves, but because of his eyes, so full of confidence and certainty that there wasn’t the slightest flicker of doubt.

“Haa.”

Blanca sighed deeply.

Her reason judged it an impossible endeavor.

Just because someone was strong and had good senses didn’t mean they’d be strong in a real fight, she knew. He was a rookie who hadn’t even taken on a combat request yet, so she, the veteran, should be the one to take the reins.

But.

If they were talking about impossible goals, she wasn’t so different herself, was she?

“Fine, let’s do it. Whatever.”

At Blanca’s answer, Bern smiled, a smile that reached his eyes.

And so, the war between just two people and the goblins began.

*

The first thing ‘it’ ever perceived was the sight of a human woman, screaming through tears.

Her body, so weakened it was near collapse.

With a throat so parched even uttering a sound was agony, the woman cried out, and cried out again, with fervent zeal.

‘It’, born with an intellect that towered above, could vaguely grasp at the meaning behind her words.

The woman was cursing.

The world, her own wretched plight, the monsters who had violated her, and ‘It’, birthed within her own womb.

Cursing them all, consumed by hate, she shrieked for their immediate demise.

Crying out, crying out. Then, *snap*, like a thread severed, she crumpled, never to rise again.

It was, in a sense, inevitable, that a woman so utterly depleted, still clinging to life had been a miracle in itself.

And so, ‘It’ lost forever the chance to hear any voice but one of hatred and damnation from the mother who birthed it.

‘It’s’ fathers, confirming the woman’s demise, devoured her corpse without a second thought, yet they accepted the creature born of her as their own, offering it sustenance.

‘It’ grew slowly, yet at a pace that dwarfed that of any human.

And, it came to realize it was unlike its brethren.

Its kin were profoundly dim-witted.

Even problems that seemed elementary to ‘It’ were insurmountable to them.

Tasks ‘It’ could accomplish with ease left them groaning and struggling, achieving little.

In terms of both intellect and physical prowess, ‘It’ was vastly superior.

To attribute it to the fact that its mother was human seemed too simple an explanation, for the lair in which ‘It’ had grown was teeming with others born through similar circumstances.

A shifting-cultivator village, eking out an existence far from the lord’s grasp, had fallen prey to a goblin horde.

Yet, among the siblings born of a similar fate, none possessed abilities that even approached those of ‘It’.

‘It’ realized it was something alien.

Possessing both strength and superior intellect, ‘It’ immediately became the pack’s leader.

Even those whose blood might have traced back to his father willingly lowered their heads before him.

As if bound by fate, ‘It’ began to cultivate and expand the pack.

The first change was to the manner of food consumption.

Before, each member foraged and consumed their own meals on the spot, but now ‘It’ changed it to gathering all acquired food into a single place for storage, after which it would be redistributed by ‘It’s’ command.

Furthermore, originally, once food was acquired they would eat until it was gone before searching for more. ‘It’ changed this, ordering them to seek new provisions daily, even when stores were plentiful.

With stable and efficient acquisition and distribution of food in place, the already quick breeding of the pack accelerated further.

Next came the alteration of tool usage.

They already possessed a culture of using clothes and equipment plundered from prey, but there were no attempts to create such things themselves.

This was partly due to a lack of skill, but mostly because it was simply ‘bothersome.’

Lazy and driven by fleeting emotion, the pack preferred the path of least resistance.

But ‘It’ forced the use of tools and commanded the creation of similar objects.

The quality was poorer than that of human creations, but even crude weaponry of stone, wood, and hide was a world apart from wielding mere rocks.

Finally, ‘It’ changed the method of hunting.

Previously, they ate whatever was edible indiscriminately, and if prey appeared, they swarmed and beat it senseless.

Rare attempts at concealment or ambush occurred, but these were less strategic tactics than pranks or acts of malice designed to startle the opponent.

However, changing these hunting methods proved a greater challenge even for ‘It.’

The food system had been ‘Its’ own insight, and tools were simply mimicking what humans used, but even with ‘Its’ superior intelligence, devising tactics and strategies from scratch was beyond ‘Its’ capabilities.

And so, ‘It’ decided to observe humans once more.

Gathering the weaker or more indolent members of the now larger pack, ‘It’ sent them to raid a human village.

The first attempt succeeded with such ease.

The human village was occupied without resistance, and several dozen humans became slaves and prospective meals for the goblin horde.

‘It’ was displeased, as ‘It’ had wanted to observe how humans fought as a group, but ‘It’ changed its mind and watched the captured slaves.

After severing the tendons in their ankles to prevent escape, ‘It’ gave them food to ensure they lived a long while.

Confined to a space where all they could do was eat, the humans busied themselves with conversation.

For it was the only way for them to maintain their sanity.

The others of its kind didn’t understand the humans’ speech, but ‘It’ was different.

Slowly, leisurely, savoring the conversations, ‘It’ gradually came to comprehend their words.

The ceaseless chatter of several dozen humans served as an adequate textbook.

“Let’s not give up.” “Help will come someday.” “Let’s plot an escape.” “Could we steal a weapon from those goblins?” “It’ll be alright, children.” “Rest easy, I’ll protect you.” “Damn b*stards. If you’re going to give us meat, at least cook it!” “What is that big goblin?” “He comes to watch us every day. It’s unsettling.”

‘It’ learned that the humans called itself and its kind ‘goblins.’

‘It’ also realized that the humans held the goblins, including itself, in utter contempt.

Otherwise, how could they not imagine, even for a moment, that ‘It’ might understand their words, despite coming to listen every day?

The language acquisition, though not perfect, was satisfying enough that ‘It’ felt a sudden curiosity.

How would the humans react, ‘It’ wondered, to a being they considered inferior speaking their language?

‘It’ opened its mouth.

“Humans, how does it feel to live within my domain?”

As expected, the humans were aghast.

Their mouths gaped, their eyes widened, and their bodies trembled with fear.

But what intrigued ‘It’ the most was the sight of one human, out of the blue, kneeling before ‘It’ and bowing his head.

A human cried out.

“Forgive me! Goblin Lord! I… I have never insulted you!”

At the human’s words, the faces of others, those who often spewed venom about ‘it’ and goblins in general, turned ashen.

But ‘it’ was more concerned with the title the human used.

Having learned the human tongue, ‘it’ knew the word “Lord” signified a ruler, a sovereign with a territory to govern.

‘It’ had called this place “My domain,” so this human must have taken those words at face value.

Lord, Lord.

Rolling the sound around in its mouth a few times, ‘it’ decided it liked the sound of that.

Yes. It was the one who ruled the goblins, the sovereign who governed the land where goblins roamed.

‘It’, no, the Goblin Lord spoke to the human who had bowed first.

“Your words are amusing. You are too interesting to be simply consumed as food, so I shall grant you the honor of serving me.”

Relief bloomed on the face of the human who had stepped forward, hearing those gracious words.

The faces of the remaining humans, however, were etched with despair at the word “food.”

The Goblin Lord addressed the group of humans.

“From this moment forward, I will ask you many questions. Those who provide answers that satisfy me will become slaves. Those who do not, will become food.”

The humans were aghast, some revealing anger and hostility.

But after the Goblin Lord casually burst the head of a rebellious human with a simple gesture three times, no one dared to resist any longer.

The humans knew more than ‘it’ anticipated.

Knowledge gleaned from hunters revealed more efficient methods of hunting.

Insights from a leather worker taught how to fashion leather with greater skill.

Some among humans trembled, imagining the consequences should their knowledge fall into goblin hands, but to avoid the wretched fate of being devoured, such considerations were a luxury they could not afford.

The Goblin Lord, true to his word, did not feast upon the humans.

And those enslaved who could craft things of immediate use to the goblins were treated with a modicum of favor.

The Goblin Lord was content.

For he knew this knowledge, these newly acquired slaves, would make his tribe, nay, his kingdom, richer.

The Goblin Lord was discontent.

The art of metalworking, the training of soldiers, the craft of writing, the wielding of swords, even the manipulation of magic.

He knew of their existence through the words of the humans, but the details, the specifics, were shrouded in a frustrating mist.

The village he had raided was but the smallest, most vulnerable outpost of the human settlements scattered across the continent.

And so too, were the knowledge and skills of its inhabitants limited.

If he were to raid a place larger, a place richer…

If he were to seize it, enslave its people, and absorb their knowledge…

Then he, and his kind, would grow truly great.

The Goblin Lord felt an ambition, keen and yearning.