"Change of plans."
The Vice Captain stood.
"Blondie. Summon the goblins. Every last one of them. The entire bloodline. Bring them here, now."
He did not wait for acknowledgment.
"Mi. Take five hundred knights. Deliver the prisoners to the Crown Prince. If any resist, leave their remains on the road."
Mi nodded and was ready to go.
"Blondie," the Vice Captain continued, voice flat, "once the goblins arrive, all notions of free trial within this city are revoked."
His eyes were lifeless.
"Take the troll with you. Have him apply connected hearts to the original prisoners."
A few knights stiffened. No one spoke.
"If magic is used near them, they will feel it. If power is activated around them, they will react."
"Scatter them throughout the city," he ordered. "Districts. Roads. Markets. Sewers. The outer edges. The borders. Every approach vector."
He glanced toward the walls.
"If an enemy breathes near this city, I want to feel it."
He faced the remaining forces.
"All remaining knights, lock the city down. Establish layered formations. No movement goes unrecorded. No sound goes unanswered."
A pause.
"If something slips past you," he added, "you will answer for it."
He turned away.
"Move."
The hall exploded into motion.
Everyone moved according to the Vice Captain's orders, the city shifting like a machine set into motion. No one questioned. No one slowed.
The Vice Captain sat alone, eyes closed, drawing in the surrounding energy. Every second was spent refining himself, compressing power, forcing progress. He did not waste time, not even on rest.
A knock broke the silence.
"Vice-Captain," a voice said from beyond the door. "The goblins have arrived."
Without opening his eyes, the Vice Captain spoke.
"Bring in their youngest son," he said calmly. "The rest will wait outside."
A brief pause.
"And begin the executions."
His voice was clear. Absolute.
Moments later, the door opened.
A small goblin stepped inside.
His body trembled uncontrollably. His eyes were swollen with tears he did not dare wipe away. He had lived his entire life beneath the city, in the sewers. Humans were myths to him, distant, terrifying shapes he avoided at all costs.
He had never dared to stand out. Never formed a personality. Never allowed himself a defining trait. Survival meant remaining unnoticed.
Now he stood in the heart of human authority.
Before he could even process the room, sounds reached him first, dull impacts, muffled screams cut short, the wet noise of heads being squashed outside.
Execution.
The smell followed.
Blood, thick, metallic, suffocating.
His knees nearly gave out.
He lowered his head immediately; eyes fixed on the floor. He did not dare look up. Did not dare acknowledge what stood before him. Every instinct screamed at him to flee, yet his legs refused to move.
As he stepped forward, the sounds outside continued.
Another scream ended.
Then another.
The goblin swallowed hard, tears streaming freely now, his breath shallow and uneven.
He did not look up.
He could not.
The Vice Captain opened his eyes.
Several minutes passed after the goblin entered the room.
The Vice Captain said nothing at first.
Then he spoke.
"How old are you?"
The question struck the goblin like a blow.
He hadn't expected it. Not this. Not something so simple.
His throat tightened. Words caught and broke apart as he answered.
"Tw-twenty, sir."
His voice barely carried across the room.
"Where were you born?" the Vice Captain asked.
The goblin flinched. His hands trembled as he answered, "I… I was born here, sir."
The Vice Captain nodded once."And what is unique about you?" he continued. "Your strength. Your talent. Your dreams. Your desires."
The goblin swallowed hard."I have none," he said quickly. "No unique feature. No dreams. No desires. If I have anything at all… it is only the wish to serve you, sir."
His voice shook as the words left his mouth.
The Vice Captain exhaled slowly and shook his head.
"Then you are no different from them."
The goblin froze.
"Do you know," the Vice Captain continued, his voice calm and measured, "what the most important duty of someone in power is?"
The goblin remained silent.
"To maintain balance," the Vice Captain said. "Between good and evil. Or control them both."
He leaned forward slightly.
"We cannot allow the self-righteous to rule unchecked. They are the most dangerous hypocrites, people who believe their values are absolute and universal. They destroy lives while convincing themselves they are virtuous."
"I would welcome a good-hearted ruler. Unfortunately, most who claim righteousness are liars. They use kindness to control, to ignite faith in others, and when that faith has served its purpose, they betray everyone who believed in them."
His gaze hardened.
"And in the same way, we cannot allow devils and demons to roam freely either."
The goblin's breathing became shallow.
"Your family," the Vice Captain said coldly, "was given gifts. Real gifts. Power to fight back. Intelligence to think for themselves. A unique ability that billions would kill for, that entire civilizations would sacrifice everything to obtain."
He paused.
"And they rejected it."
"They chose weakness. They chose obedience. They chose slavery."
His voice sharpened.
"Do not mistake that for goodness. That is not virtue. That is cowardice. And cowardice, when dressed as morality, becomes something far worse."
The goblin's eyes filled with tears.
"They had the power to resist," the Vice Captain continued. "They refused. They had the capacity to decide. They refused. People like that are not harmless."
"They are demons of the most repulsive kind, your father, driven by a dream implanted by your grandfather, forced a fabricated reality onto you. That illusion chained you for years. It led to slavery, to your brother's death, and to the deaths of countless others."
Silence crushed the room.
"If you are the same as them," the Vice Captain said quietly, "then you are of no use to me."
The goblin's knees nearly buckled.
The Vice Captain straightened.
"You see," he said, almost casually, "I have decided to host the final festival this land will ever witness."
The goblin looked up, terrified.
"And this one," the Vice Captain added, his voice turning ice-cold,"Will be different."
A pause.
"Killing," he said, "will not be forbidden."
Another pause.
"It will be welcomed."
The goblin understood then.
"And encouraged. You see I am not a perfect man. I have committed many sins.
But there is one line I will never forgive, enslaving children and killing them.
Your father crossed that line willingly. His brothers followed. His father enabled it.
And so this festival will be their judgment. They will not be spared. They will be hunted like the demons they became. They will be torn apart for rejecting their gifts, for rejecting their own identity, and for staining this world with the blood of innocent children."