by E C Chii
Wolf’s jaw hit the floor from sheer horror, he wanted to say something but that would be insulting their culture. “Isn’t there another way?”
Frong the only other male goblin frowned. “Do you think we haven’t tried other things? If we did find another way that kept us all alive our tribe would begin to grow at such a staggering rate that we would devour everything in the territory and then spill out. That has never ended well as it brings the attention of the Empire. Their answer to any goblin is complete and utter eradication. Many tribes tried to fight but sadly ended with their complete destruction.”
“So, you all see me as another way to keep surviving, but the question is why?” Wolf asked incredulously
Frong answered, “Because the alternative was to die.”
Falling back to silence they listened to the crackling of the fire and burbling of the pot. Eventually it was finished, and Wolf fashioned several bowls and spoons from the stone around him through his elemental manipulation.
“Can you show us how to fight on par with the empire?” Dinish asked with pure unadulterated venom and hate in her voice.
“Sure, but after we rest and recover. I am about to collapse from exhaustion myself. One of you take first watch and go in a circle to the left. When it is my turn wake me up, two hours each.” He received a series of grunts of compliance as he fell asleep to
Chapter 24 – Birth of a Tactician
Two key things about this world made Wolf extremely grateful. One being that if the wound was not immediately life threatening the likelihood of survival was a nearly guaranteed. When he was awoken for his turn on watch the goblins had mostly recovered from their more serious wounds. A few persisted but he could see color start to return to their skin and life refill their eyes. After his two hours shift he would wake them all to strip anything and everything useful from the corpses and dispose of them appropriately, also on the agenda would be to figure out what he wanted to do with this squad of goblins.
The shift passed uneventfully as Wolf practiced with his sword. It still sometimes felt unnatural as his body was not accustomed to using it. That is why he was practicing the basic drills or katas of Iaijutsu. Right when he was just starting to feel like this new body was getting into the groove of these drills he was interrupted by one of the goblins sneezing. Looking over to see the one goblin who he had not yet spoke with. She was staring at him intently taking in every single movement, seemingly to try and absorb them with every fiber of her body. Motioning her over, she scampered up next to him.
“Lefful, would you like to learn this style of fighting?” Wolf asked her
In a high squeaky voice, she replied “Yes, will you teach me?”
Wolf looked at her like his old Special Forces instructors would when determining which expertise, the prospects career should go.
Finally, he replied, “No, you wouldn’t have the talent for it.”
Lefful hung her head despondently.
Wolf quickly followed up that comment with, “You wouldn’t do well as a swordsman due to your smaller size and limited reach. Though something like ‘Sōjutsu’ and using a ‘Yari’ or polearm. That I could see you being skilled with. Those two as they don’t require much in terms of size or strength.”
She lifted her head with disbelief in her eyes and openly on her face. “What are those?”
“‘Sōjutsu’ literally translates to art of the spear, and the ‘Yari’ is a cross bladed spear that can be used to stab, pierce armor, and slash if necessary. The swordsmanship that I use is called ‘Iaijutsu’ and it is from my grandmother’s homeland. It is the art of the quick draw, here watch.” Wolf said as he took one of the extra spears and lodged it tip down into the stone floor.
Taking a few steps back his focus was solely on the pole with his hands ready with the blade in its scabbard. Seconds passed turning into minutes as he focused his breathing and tension relaxed from his body. When everything was still and on the peak of his breath, the sudden tensing of his muscles began to move pushing his body as though it was moving through water. His right hand pulling the sword and left pushing the scabbard back and away from him the uchigatana shot forth in a blinding instant lopping off the top of the pole. When the sword reached the furthest point of the swing he twisted it bringing the black pointing back the way it came into a second slash that took another length from the pole.
Standing in the ‘Hidari Gedan’ position he brought the sword up and sheathed it. Turning back, he saw her already wide eyes get wider.
“You could beat anyone with that technique alone, why would they need any other?” stammered Lefful
“Not true, this is an excellent way to end a duel very quickly, but I don’t think that it would be as easy as you think here. Most wounds that are not immediately fatal can and will heal over time. Also, it eats up stamina like crazy, and has a very long cool down. It causes immense burst damage but does not have the sustainability of other methods of fighting.” Wolf answered
“If that is the case why do you use that style?” Lefful asked
“Good question, and the right question to ask in this specific situation. How long did that battle last before they retreated?” Wolf asked
“One…maybe two hours.” She responded
“How long did the battle with those twelve goblins last night go for?”
“I don’t know I was preoccupied with trying to not die.” She said with a grimace
“Okay, that’s fair. It lasted barely fifteen minutes, and at the end I was spent. Even though I was exhausted, and the only reason I won was luck, battle experience, and knowing critical points to attack and even then, it was close. Had they managed to corner me I would have been dead for sure.”
“That brings back up the question of why you use that swordsmanship style.” She reasoned
Wolf’s face became blank and stone faced, cold ice filled his voice. Lefful shivered at his response, and dead lifeless look in his eyes.
“When I volunteered to join the Army in my world, I was trained to be a special type of soldier, we were primarily used as fast striking shock troops. We set up ambushes, traps, and assassinations to whittle down our enemies and inflict extreme psychological damage. Destroying their morale, degrading their ability and willpower to fight. You hit hard fast and mercilessly, kill as many enemies as you can in the quick moments of battle then flee to hit them again, always on your terms, hunt them like the beasts they are. Psychological warfare at its best.”
“What’s psychological warfare?” She asked fascinatedly
“Psychological warfare is the method of beating your enemies even before a single soldier steps foot on the battlefields. Breaking their spirit, run them ragged before the battle, degrade their trust with their commanders and assassinate key people to disrupt their leadership.”
“Seems so simple that it should be easy for commanders to fight back against.” She said skeptically
Wolf laughed humorlessly, “You would think that at first, but it is not the commanders who decide this, but the common foot soldier that does. When you wake up to find every other person killed in their sleep at night in your camp, your scouts impaled and alive on stakes, or twenty to thirty men being led by a man with one eye and all others with their eyes carved out. It makes you think long and hard about if the fight is really worth it as them and their brother’s die in traps daily without even seeing the enemy.”
Lefful sat there contemplating what Wolf had told her.
“What did you do for the tribe?” Wolf asked
“I…I was a comfort goblin, captured from another tribe.” She replied turning a darker green he assumed was embarrassment and looks down in nervousness.
Wolf felt anger rise in him, but squashed what he wanted to say as it might be a cultural faux pas. Changing the subject, he asked, “What do you think wins a battle?”
Broken from her nervous she looked at him thinking, “Warriors win battles! Am I wrong?” she exclaimed like it was ob
vious.
Wolf face palmed and chuckled, “No, you are right but also wrong. Certainly, warriors and soldiers are critical to winning any battle but there are other factors that determine victory or defeat. Such things are called intelligence, communication, terrain, condition of your troops, tactics chosen against a specific opponent, and amount of preparation on the battlefield. Even then victory is never guaranteed.”
“Then how do you ensure victory then?” She asked
“You don’t, you only mitigate as much risks as possible before a battle. Intelligence on a foe is of critical importance, if you know the number of troops, where they will be, what supplies they have, weapons, specialties and such. That is the information a tactician can use to create a viable plan to win on the battlefield.”
“Could you teach me how you fought? Not the way you fought but the methods you used to fight?” she asked with a hint of desperation in her voice.
“If you wish to employ the tactics that we used. You must be willing to surrender all hopes of being anything but a killer. Before you make your final decision on this think about it over the next few days.”
“Mind if I ask a few questions?”
“If I know the answers, sure.” Lefful replied hesitantly
“When we first fought, you all charged like an unorganized mob. Why?” Wolf inquired
“Earlier we mentioned that to not draw attention to our tribe we need to cull our numbers every twenty years. What we don’t often say is that there is a strict caste system. There is the fodder caste that most of us are part of, the fighter caste, the leader caste, and crafting caste. The larger and darker goblins that you killed earlier was a leader caste. We are instinctually required to follow the orders of the leader caste regardless of our thoughts or ideas, unfortunately they are often big brutish dumb creatures. Often the only fighting tactic they know about is a full-frontal attack using larger numbers to destroy or move through an obstacle. The only way we got past that pit was because the one you called ‘Fugly’ ordered hundreds of goblins to their death by jumping into the pit, creating a bridge from our bodies. Me, and Xen are part of the fodder caste, Thrak is a fighter caste, Frong a crafter cast, and Dinish…well she is a bit different as she has no caste.”
“Why doesn’t she have a caste?” Wolf asked curiously
“She does not possess the same instincts the rest of us do. If a leader caste tries to order her to do something they do not feel the same compulsion, we do. Leader castes must try and convince them to do their bidding. These goblins are either thrown out of the tribe or killed when they are young, to prevent them from rebelling or usurping the leader castes. When they do swear loyalty, they are often used as assassins and body guards for the leader caste.”
“Has it always been this way and if we encounter another leader caste will they be able to order you against your will?” Wolf asked playing out several scenarios
“No, when we are little gobs we are placed around the leader caste to imprint on them. Any goblin not part of a tribe will not feel the same compulsion as we do. I hear in other tribes that they have done away from castes all together and only the smartest, cleverest, and ruthless control the tribe.” Lefful answered.
“So, correct me, if I am wrong anywhere. In the absence of a leader caste from your specific tribe, you are free to do anything as you wish. In the presence of a leader caste you essentially turn into mindless drones doing their bidding without a single thought. Though that still begs to question how do castes get assigned?”
“That is determined by your sire and wealth. It is possible to move up in caste if you have a natural ability for another caste. Though it must be approved by the leader caste for the change to happen, and that’s about as likely as the Empire giving up slavery.” Lefful said bitterly
“Hmm. It sounds a bit more complex than I would have thought. Last two questions then it’s time to get to work. Why do you all have a different language than Algonan and how do you know all this?”
“Oh, the first one is a bit difficult but the last one is rather simple. I really like to hear new information and think about things often so when I was a gob-ling I often asked anyone and everyone to explain things.” Lefful giggled
Switching over to fluent common, she continued, “One of our tribe’s legends was told that the original land we came from was a very hostile place with many predators which would constantly hunt us for food. We eventually found our way here where we needed to fight for our own survival, be enslave, or wiped out. So, we didn’t really have much of a choice.”
Leaving her to think about what they just spoke about he figured it was time to wake up the goblins. When they woke he instructed those that could to start gathering their brethren’s bodies for a more appropriate burial as their culture dictated. They stripped the bodies of all materials that were valuable or could be repurposed into something useful. Overall there was not much that could be repurposed, but he was able to refit the goblins in some the armor that was not as badly damaged as their own and weapons that were slightly better.
The total count was two hundred and nine dead goblins to the lizard things that he found out were Troglodytes. The Troglodytes totaled three hundred and fifteen dead. The Trogs were absolutely disgusting but he created a large basin in the stone of the room with his elemental manipulation which drained the water from the corpses point he had a nasty headache, filling the basin. Taking the time to rest he started feeling better when his MP had restored to above fifteen percent. Figuring that this next part would take much of his strength and MP he sat in the seiza position to see if meditation could speed up this process.
Over the course of twenty minutes he struggled to center himself in a way that wouldn’t only enhance his physical attributes like he did when he fought Sienna. When he thought of that occasion it filled him with anger over the fact that he was railroaded on that ‘trial’. He did feel a little bad since he did lose his temper when he last spoke to her. It wasn’t like it was premeditated, though it still bothered him, and he couldn’t figure out why.
Realizing that continuing to try and meditate to increase his MP regeneration was an effort in futility. He got up and started to pull on the water in the corpses drawing it to the basin. Sweat began to bead on his forehead as he struggled to pull more and more water toward him. At first it was both blood and any other bodily fluid that answered his pull but as it got closer it started separating and draining into a more purified state. With this much fluids being pulled and separated he was soon panting and wincing in pain, his MP bar was precipitously low. Fearing he would pass out from what he coined as magic backlash he pulled the last remaining mana potion and downed it. He felt a cool refreshing wave ripple through his core as his MP bar began to refill.
Continuing to focus on separating the water out and filling the basin with the drinkable water. As he finished, his legs gave out as he collapsed to the ground. His head was pounding, and breath was short and quick. The goblins stood in awe of the entire scene, baffled at the flagrant display of magic the likes they had never seen. Fear and worry for Wolf warred on their faces as they were unsure of if helping him or killing him was the better answer.
Wolf continued to lay there staring at the darkness that was the roof of the rocky room wincing in pain when light from the torches stabbed painful daggers through his eyes into his brain. After a while when the pain began to subside he sat up further exacerbating his splitting headache.
Groaning, he said, “I will NOT be doing that again anytime soon.” Looking around at the goblins staring at him with a mixture of various emotions like hostility, fear, uncertainty, concern, and worry.
Seeing the looks on their faces he tried to make a joke, “What do I have a dick growing out of my forehead?”
Startled by the sudden effort at crass humor, Thrak said, “N-no, why would a dick grow out of your head? You are not a freak, an aberration maybe, but no freak.”
“Then why are you all staring at
me like I got one growing there?” Wolf asked
“You used magic, only those from the Empire know how to use magic. You know how to use magic, yet, when given the chance you did not swear us into slavery. Why?” Thrak asked uneasily.
“Well I hate slavery more than any of you could possibly know. I sure you have already heard me say or have heard it from others that I am not from this world. I am getting tired of telling everyone that. Regardless, that is a true statement, in my original world slavery is an abhorrent act, and we have banded together fight against it with everything we have. Often it is a futile struggle as, every time we destroy it in one location it springs up again elsewhere.”
Xen chimed in, “It sounds like a nice place if people come together to fight against it. If everyone hates, it so much why does it keep coming back?”
“That, my dear, is a complex and deeply contentious problem systemic in much of their history.” Wolf said with a sigh.
