I collapsed onto the cold floor, my body completely depleted of energy. The world around me went quiet, leaving nothing but the sound of my own harsh, ragged breathing. I tried to push myself up, forcing my trembling knees to hold my weight, but they felt like lead. I didn't know what would happen if I let go entirely, and I was terrified to find out.
The sharp, stabbing pain in my shoulder was the only thing keeping me conscious, though a numbing cold was already spreading down my arm. I tried to focus on my breath, desperate for a moment of clarity. I had to do something fast; if the blood loss didn't stop, I was going to die right here in the dirt, just another nameless monster in a dark cave.
As I struggled to stay upright, I felt a pair of rough, clawed hands grab me. Then another pair grabbed my legs, and another gripped my torso.
Before I could utter a single word, a dozen hands were lifting me, hoisting my broken body into the air. Panic flared in my chest. I tried to thrash against them, but it was in vain; I was a broken mess, incapable of putting up a fight. I felt like a piece of meat being carried to a slaughterhouse.
"Move him carefully," a voice commanded, echoing through the cavern. "The blood must flow onto the stone. We must begin the ritual."
Ritual? What ritual? My mind was spinning. I couldn't tell if the voice belonged to the Shaman or something far worse. Were they going to sacrifice me to celebrate the King's death? I hadn't even survived a full day in this body. I couldn't let it end here, not before I found a way back to her. Her face, her laugh... they were the only things keeping me from slipping into the dark.
I felt them set me down on a hard, jagged surface, the King's throne. It was cold and smelled of the previous King's filth. I could feel my own warm blood soaking into the cracks of the stone, the heavy, metallic scent filling my nose. Around me, the tribe began to chant. It was a low, guttural sound that vibrated through the throne and into my very bones.
The Shaman stepped into my blurred field of vision. He held a bowl of something dark and steaming. He dipped his fingers into it and began painting symbols onto my forehead and chest. The liquid burned like acid against my skin.
"Blood of the fallen, spirit of the new," the Shaman chanted, his voice growing deeper and more resonant with every word. "The throne is empty no longer. The God of the Deep watches."
The cave began to pulse with a faint, sickly green light. Every chant felt like a physical weight pressing down on my chest, making it harder to breathe. My heart hammered one last time against my ribs, and then the world simply gave way. Second by second, the chanting faded into a distant hum, my vision blurred into a white void, and I slipped into a deep, unnatural sleep.
***
In the depths of my unconsciousness, my mind finally grew still. I found myself floating in a vast, endless white void. Everything felt blurry and vague, like a half-forgotten memory. The thought that I might be dead crossed my mind, and I was shocked by how calm I felt.
A wave of guilt hit me, clashing with a sense of weary resignation. I didn't know what was expected of me anymore. In less than twenty-four hours, I had gone from being a normal father to a goblin, then a murderer, and now… this.
"Are you finished feeling sorry for yourself?"
A deep, resonant voice echoed through the space. It didn't come from a specific direction; it seemed to vibrate from the very air around me. I looked around, but I was still alone, drifting in the nothingness.
"Is this the afterlife?" I asked, my voice sounding thin and small.
"What? No, no. Wait… do you actually think you're dead?" The voice chuckled, a sound like grinding stones. "Don't worry. You're still very much alive."
"Then… where am I? And who are you?"
"This is the Spirit Plane, and I am Varkas, the Goblin God." There was an undeniable note of pride in his voice as he spoke his name.
"Varkas…?" I repeated, the name tasting like ash in my mouth.
"The one and only."
Silence followed. I continued to float, my mind struggling to process his words. A god? Of course. I was clearly losing my mind. Nothing made sense anymore, so why shouldn't there be a goblin god?
I blinked, and suddenly, the sensation of weightlessness vanished. I was no longer floating; I was sitting at a heavy wooden table. The white void remained, but the table and the two chairs provided a strange, grounding reality.
"You were spacing out," Varkas's voice sounded again, this time directly in front of me. "I thought this would be a better way to hold a conversation."
I raised my gaze and froze. Sitting across from me was a massive, obsidian skinned goblin. He was far larger than any I had seen in the cave, his body covered in battle-worn leather armor. His eyes were the most striking part, they didn't glow, but they burned with a sharp, mocking malice as he stared at me.
"Better?" Varkas asked, leaning forward. His smile revealed rows of pointed, yellow teeth. "I need this to be as comfortable as possible for you. We have much to discuss, after all."
I nodded slowly, though the look of confusion and suspicion didn't leave my face. My heart was beginning to race again. In this world, "comfortable" usually meant a trap was about to be sprung.
"I imagine you have plenty of questions," Varkas said, his voice dropping into a tone that was far too friendly to be sincere. "So, why don't you start asking?"
I looked him straight in the eyes, refusing to be intimidated. "Why am I here?"
"In this plane? To speak with me, obviously," Varkas replied, his malicious smile widening. "As for why you're a goblin? Because that was my desire."
"Why?" My voice was flat. I kept my face as expressionless as possible, hiding the storm of emotions inside me.
He shrugged casually, as if he were discussing the weather. "I needed a champion."
I stared at him in silence, waiting for a real explanation.
"Well… you've met the others," he continued, gesturing vaguely as if toward the cave. "You've seen what my goblins are like. You know what to expect from them. A few are brighter than the rest, but none are intelligent enough for my plan."
"So, there's a plan? And I'm a part of it?"
"Of course. I want to grow stronger, and for that, I need a champion to act on my behalf."
A champion? The thought was a joke. I was a man who had just spent the last hour covered in filth and blood, struggling to breathe. "I'm not a champion," I snapped.
He chuckled, a dry, grating sound. "I wouldn't say that. In less than a day, you survived an invasion and claimed the title of King." He clapped his large, dark hands together. "I have to admit, I'm impressed. I didn't expect to have this conversation so soon, but you challenged that gluttonous Goper the moment you saw an opening. More importantly… you won."
"I'm not exactly proud of it, to be honest," I muttered.
"Well, you should be." Varkas leaned back in his chair, crossing his thick arms. "But let's get to the point. Before we discuss your duties as my champion, I thought you might be interested in what I can do for you."
"And what is that?"
"Well… I assumed you'd be interested in a way back to your old, boring human life." He spat the word 'human' with a look of pure disdain.
That caught my attention immediately. My heart skipped a beat, but I hesitated, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. I narrowed my eyes, giving Varkas my full, undivided attention.
"So… you brought me to this world?" He nodded. "And now you're offering me a way out?"
He nodded again, his eyes gleaming. "Exactly. That's why you're here, to make a deal."
"This feels like making a deal with the Devil," I said coldly.
"Hardly. The Devil is a completely different god," Varkas laughed. "This is a deal with me. A much better prospect, I assure you."
"And what are my options? Can I refuse?" I asked, my mind sharpening as I tried to calculate my next move.
"I'd recommend hearing the terms first, but of course, you can decline," Varkas said, though his expression suggested otherwise. "You would simply wake up in your body, remain the 'little king' of those scums, and live out your short, miserable life however you see fit." He gave me a knowing, pointed look.
"That's a very long way of saying… no." I stared at him, my gaze icy. I knew that without his help, I would eventually be killed by another monster or another ambitious goblin. If I wanted to see my daughter again, I didn't have a choice and we both knew it.
"I simply wanted you to know that going back was on the table," Varkas said, his voice dripping with mock sincerity.
"Fine. Then how do I make you stronger?" I asked coldly, cutting through his games.
"Straight to the point. I like that." He clapped his massive hands together. "I won't bore you with the details of how divinity works. It wouldn't matter anyway, as you wouldn't be able to comprehend it. Just know that I need you to do a few things for me… simple things."
"I know what a god is," I interrupted, my patience thinning.
He rolled his eyes dramatically. "Really? Do you? I highly doubt that." He leaned forward, his massive frame casting a shadow over the table. "You have the mortal concept of what a god is, and believe me, everything you think you know will only mislead you. You need to be a god to understand one. The concept of transcendental power flowing toward entities outside your plane of existence is not a matter for simple minds."
I raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by his lecture. "What exactly are you trying to say?"
"Exactly my point," he sighed, waving a hand dismissively. "That information is way out of your league, and honestly, you don't need it."
"Then tell me what I do need to know. What do I have to do?"
He smiled darkly, his eyes glowing with a sudden, predatory light. "First, I need you to raise your Civilization Core to Level 5. Second, you must conquer the four main Ancestral Temples. And finally, you are to gather the five Relics of the First God. A simple task, really."
I didn't understand half of what he had just said, Civilization Cores? Ancestral Temples? Relics of gods? but I knew one thing for certain. Nothing this god demanded could be "a simple task."