Before leaving Goblin's Grove, I stood in the middle of the small field we had just begun to cultivate over the past few days. The tiny forest was cleared, the soil had been plowed, and young sprouts were just starting to peek out from the dark, fertile earth.
I looked at Godon—my first goblin, the one I trusted more than anyone else in this place. His body was still small, but his eyes held a fierceness that had grown far beyond when I first tamed him.
"I need to leave for two days, Godon," I said, placing down a sack filled with cheap bread and a few jerry cans of water. "Watch over everyone. Watch over this place."
Godon didn't speak. But he nodded solemnly.
I pulled a red cloth from my bag—just an old piece I once used to wrap lunch—and tied it around his left arm.
"That's a leader's mark," I said. "If anything happens, you're the one in charge."
They all looked at me with wide, curious eyes. Ten goblins. The weakest creatures in any dungeon… yet here they were, standing beside me like children looking to a parent for guidance.
With a heavy heart, I opened the portal and stepped out of Goblin's Grove.
It had been a year since I started working as a porter, and once again, I had taken on another job—joining a Rank-D hunter party on a dungeon raid. The dungeon we picked this time was called Mirror Labyrinth, a high-end Rank-D dungeon notorious for confusing pathways and long completion times.
But I needed the money. For food. For tools. For seeds. Just two days, I thought.
Reality didn't care for my plans.
The dungeon was a nightmare.
Endless corridors, walls that reflected light like mirrors, shifting paths that led us in circles. One of the hunters got separated, and we couldn't leave him behind. We camped inside, navigating the ever-changing maze, hoping to find our missing teammate.
Day after day passed. No signal. No magic skills worked. No way to open my portal. And the only thing I could think about… was whether the goblins were still okay.
Day seven.
We finally got out. The lost hunter was found, exhausted but alive. After splitting the loot and reporting to the Association, I slipped away from the others and found a quiet alley.
With trembling hands, I activated the skill and opened the portal to Goblin's Grove.
Fog welcomed me back.
I rushed through it, heart pounding, eyes scanning the field—
And stopped.
The plants… were growing.
Not all perfectly. Some had wilted. Some leaned from lack of water. But they were alive. They had grown.
And in the middle of the field stood a small goblin, a red cloth tied around his arm.
Godon.
He was thinner. His eyes were red. But he stood tall, gripping a worn wooden hoe in his small hands. The other goblins sat nearby, tired, some still pouring water from the last jerry can onto the plants.
I didn't know what to say. My throat tightened.
Godon walked toward me slowly and offered the hoe with both hands.
"You… came back," he said softly.
I nodded. And for the first time since becoming a hunter… I felt like I had truly come home.