I woke up and regretted it immediately. Asleep, my time had been spent running through conjoined drinking straws, every exit leading to a toothy green mouth. Probably not actual trauma, but I’d have to keep an eye on that one.

Both versions of me, Isaac and Izaark, weren't talking to each other. Isaac was ashamed, the face of the goblin mother and innocence of the goblin child firm in his mind. Izaark was also ashamed. Izaark was picturing a huge dragon whimpering, cutting off it’s tail and running away from a tiny mouse.

Neither was winning the argument. It was right and wrong. I had come to Gaia to upset the balance, fight heroes and get stronger. I had decided to become a draconic warlock, ready to play that role for Dion. I had seen some version of my future power in Byzametiya. I had seen genuine fear, not for herself, for her child’s life, in the eyes of the goblin. I had thought myself ready to be a destroyer.

It turns out, that was childish of me.

Reaching my less-than-fancy new doors, I was pleased to see that they were definitely sturdy. I’d probably be able to blast through it, but anything less powerful than myself would need equipment, even though it was wood. Good.

I slid the deadbolt to unlock the door, thankful it was at my height. The door was made for my height, and while it would draw attention to the cavern in some regards, it was definitely better than nothing. The Izaark part of my brain gained some ground in the debate by pointing out it was only possible due to the two goblins we killed. The Isaac part was upset at the reminder, so I ignored that side of myself for now.

Objectively, Izaark’s position was correct. I woke up thirsty, and the 30 EP cost was being calculated in the amount of goblins I’d need to kill. Somewhere between ten and twenty, I came to the number and recoiled. For a drink of fresh water? Maybe if I were actually dying of thirst, but I was just a little parched. Then again, a dragon would think nothing of ending twenty lives for its own convenience.

“Stupid conscience having idiot.” I berated myself, stepping out of my cave. Hmm, no lock on the outside. Turning, I froze. There was that tell-tale smell of goblins that I’d gotten so used to. Right behind me. I swelled the mana inside me, ready to release a blast from my hands or a rebuke, depending.

However, there was no goblin to be seen. No glint of green skin before a dagger plunged into my back. No yammering, confusing language being jabbered.

Just a… basket?

“What the fuuu?” I asked the air slowly. Looking into the three crossroad tunnels, I saw and heard nothing. Death tunnel was quiet, right tunnel (now Goblin tunnel) was also silent. Forward tunnel, which would get an appropriately stupid name when it made sense, the final sentinel of quietitude.

The basket was the source of the scent, obviously, but why was it here? Cautious, a blast of force waiting just on the edge of my mana, I flicked the lid with one, black-clawed toe. The insides were a source of complete bewilderment.

That looked like… bread? Some mushrooms, and even a waterskin? The smell of goblin made it an obvious trap, but a dry cough made the decision for me. I would resist any poison or disease, so there was no danger in enjoying this care package. I snatched the basket and took it back into my lair.

Compared to yesterday, this is an incredibly successful day so far, I thought to myself with good humour. I was confused, but the quenched thirst and filled stomach had gone down well regardless. Still, I’d stared at the door the whole time I ate. Carelessness nearly got me killed yesterday, and then overconfidence nearly caused me to do something regretful.

The two parts of my mind suddenly snapped together, not literally, but in agreement of an ideal. Whether slaying enemies or choosing to give mercy, the most important part was to not have regrets. It was fine not to slay a helpless woman and her baby, Izaark-brain decided. That doesn’t mean I can be weak in the face of danger, Isaac-brain agreed.

The goblins were a danger, right? Was it something I could ignore for now, while I searched the forward path? Even if that had been my plan, I had confirmation that the goblins knew where I was. The meaning behind their message may not have been clear, who knew what goblin culture meant by a gift basket? I wasn’t able to trust kindness after I had claimed the life of two of them yesterday. It must have meant something else, and I couldn’t leave enemies behind me.

So, I sighed and steeled my resolve. To procrastinate, I scratched an image of a goblin into the wall, my way of naming the tunnel. The blade of the dead goblin warrior was truly useless now, but I threw it into my lair all the same. With nothing left to distract myself, I had to leave.

The walk to the goblin settlement seemed far longer than when I first made my way. Every step seemed heavy, but I could find no excuse forthcoming, so I continued. I loaded a blast of force into readiness. The spell only takes a moment to get ready, but every second would count if they descended.

There was no sneak attack waiting at the tunnel’s exit. The twenty feet of cliff showed signs of disturbance. There were footholds, crude and quick, cut into the side of the steep hill. It wouldn’t be enough to assault my lair, but it was the start. There didn’t seem to be any guards, however, so I simply scanned the visible area for now.

There… didn’t seem to be much change in the small, underground settlement. I could see the building I had shattered, grimacing again as I noticed the destroyed wall of the next building over. I suppose I couldn’t blame them for thinking that a war was started.

Still, it didn’t look like they were going to stage an attack today. It may have been wishful thinking, but I could accept any reason not to start a guerilla war against this force.

“Grababa!” A shout from below, closer than I had thought any goblins were, shocked me. I raised my hand, ready to defend myself. I dropped the spell, the magic returning to my inner flow, when I saw her. Standing near the base of the cliff, a large chunk of loose rock had obscured her from view before, was the goblin woman from before. She had a short grey mohawk and a wonky earring that stood out. “Gura debba deruga.”

With the same feeling as talking to Byzametiya, my mind seemed to turn around at her words slightly. It was a greeting that she had shouted to start with, and then a quick apology. An apology? Could I… be diplomatic here?

“What do you want?” I said, feeling my mouth move wrong. The manic language of the goblins came from my throat, which I had trusted would happen. As quick as she had appeared, the goblin woman jumped with a skwark. Scared meant panicked, and panicked meant dangerous.

“I apologise for your house!” Although it was said with my most charming tone, I imagine it still came across as being yelled at by a strange creature. She shivered, looking over her shoulder, though there was no one there.

“I been waiting.” She said finally, our staredown reaching the minute mark. Her gaze had slowly turned to excitement. “You say words like goblins say words.”

“You left the food?” It was the safest assumption. She nodded, taking a step forward and then looking like she regretted it immediately.

“Y-yes. Found your lair, Mighty One. My token.” Mighty One? I liked the sound of that.

“What do you mean by token?”

“Token.” She paused, seeming to struggle. “Token is token. You is strong, I want no attack.”

“It’s… payment? So I won’t attack?”

“Yes!” She latched onto the explanation. “Payment! I pay good food, Grunnda’s food for Mighty One.”

“And are you Grunnda?” I refused to fully disarm, keeping my mana pulsed in my palms, but there seemed to be no one waiting to jump out of the shadows.

“Ahh!” She seem pained. “No! I’s Grannda. Grunnda makes bread. Grannda makes clothes.”

“Well… I thank you, Grannda. I am,” I cleared my throat, and let my full pride sound, not the half-whisper I’d been using. “Izaark.”

Grannda rocked backwards like she’d be slapped in the face, and dropped to her knees a moment after regaining composure. Before I could tell her not to make a scene she howled, and more goblins started appearing, looking in my direction. From a fair distance away, in amongst the buildings, a goblin shouted out and Grannda jumped back up. She turned, hands raised and answered the yell with ululating.

Before long, a bunch of the goblins were throwing their head back and wailing like banshees. The effect was dominating. It felt like a challenge, and the dragon within roared back. I unleashed a reply, which sliced through the churning noise of the goblins and turned them silent.

Unable to keep the resident growl from the voice any longer, I asked the obvious question. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Ah!” Almost seeming to have forgotten my presence, Grannda yelped and flipped back around, facing me again. “I sorry, Mighty Izaark,” a hush took her voice as she whispered my name, as though saying it to herself. “We’s all no looking for fight, we’s calling Chief.” Indeed the warbles continued through the cavern, until it sounded like every corner of the massive, mile-long space had shouted.

I didn’t sense any communication in the sound, but it apparently was a signal to their chief, a large, shabby palanquin arriving within minutes. It had been tense. I had been ready to try to blast the tunnel to pieces and prepare for war only twenty minutes before, and now I was being given an audience with my quest target? I wondered to myself how much influence Dion could have, as a god, on the events I was facing. Remembering the glint in his eye when he’d asked for his favour, I reminded myself that Dion was probably not giving a second thought for me.

I broke from my thoughts as a huge goblin dropped from the palanquin. Literally dropped, making a deep grunting noise as it fell. The knees of one of the four goblins buckled as their obese leader began stepping down. Luckily for the bearer, his charge tumbled from the palanquin and the weight dispersed.

Silence reigned for a moment. I knew it would be inappropriate to laugh, so I averted my eyes and took a deep breath. Once a deep voice shouted “Away!” I felt safe to look again. The creature tottered back and forth like a strange egg, but the goblin chief managed to keep it’s feet under it. With an instant change of tone, it placed it’s hand behind it’s massive back.

“Oi!” The chief, named Grubznoz by my quest, shouted gruffly up to me. “You’z a big boy, little lizard?” As though that was an appropriate collection of words to use together, Grubznoz looked expectant of an answer

I blinked. What? No, seriously, what the… My mind stopped flailing and remembered the words of a great man from Earth. When someone asks you if you’re a god, you say yes.

“I’m the fucking lizard king. I am Izaark, son of Byzametiya, the last gem dragon. Scion of my race, I am here to conquer and tear down the world of man.”

I had been obsessed with a few drama shows, set in more regal times or settings. I allowed that, and my inherited draconic pride, to channel through my words. The effect was as intended, with certain goblins quailing at my words. The chief was inscrutable, not least of all because it was an alien, rotten-egg-coloured face with a pig’s nose and far too much fat.

“You’z swinging around a propa name. Big name for a big boy? Could be.” The chief’s face twisted into something recognisable. A mixture of fear and anger that my body knew well, and my mind was learning. I gathered my power into my palms again. I would easily be able to launch two blasts by the time they reached me. The goblin chief confirmed my suspicions.

Well, you’ve made my choice easier Grubznoz. I hoped that Grannda wouldn’t get caught in the chaos that was about to erupt.

“‘E’z a dumb-dumb! ‘Ave ‘im, boys!” The chief waved a meaty hand, long, fat fingers curling into a fist and punching it forward.

I looked to see, with surprise, that only a few goblins started taking steps forward. There was a gathering of easily seventy or eighty goblins, and it seemed as though they weren’t thrilled at the idea of rushing me. The crowd waited.

Good. That was a smart choice. Now, only one need die.

I levied my hand at the chief, thankful for the large target. If this place really did work like a video game, he would be the highest level target yet. With the most health. A true test for my base warlock spell. The blast of force seemed to get excited in my grip, a shimmering orb that looked like heat waves from a hot road collected in place, and began to tint with purple energy. As I held it, I continued aiming at the goblin boss, who was starting to shout at the closest goblins.

“Oi, yourself!” I shouted, getting his attention. “Dodge this.”

My Display pinged a notification, but it stayed waiting in the top right of my vision. A letter with an exclamation point. Had I learned how to keep them quieted? Not important.

The most important thing at the moment was the growing energy in my palm. It suddenly felt as though I couldn’t release it, as though the energy were scared of itself. Oh shit. This is going to hurt. I had enough time to panic and look at my status page. My mana was at 0, and staying there. It hurt, like the painful rush of blood to your arm after a long sleep. Four seconds passed… five…

I felt my mana empty, truly empty for the first time, and nearly fell from the cliff. Only then did the magic seem happy with what it gathered. The sphere of energy travelled fast, screaming a high pitched whine from my high angle, over the heads of goblins and right towards the surprised face of the goblin chief. My vision swam, I fell to one knee, hand clutching the edge of the tunnel so vertigo wouldn’t tip me over the edge.

I shook away the haze, and saw the carnage as it truly occured. The blast of force had become a purple ball, like a translucent balloon filled with purple steam. It swayed in the air, moving slower than it had before. It had quite a distance to travel, and I groaned as it angled towards the floor. That is, until my groan turned into a cheer, the ball ignoring gravity and halting before racing like it had been kicked by a giant.

The stupid look on Grubznoz’s face was the last he would ever make as the purple blast connected with his chin. His final words “Whut thuh?” would, I was sure, be remembered by all. I had expected him to be fairly squishy, at least to the touch, but to take him out with one spell was a little surprising even for me. Wasn’t he supposed to be a boss fight?

As the notifications began piling in, the top right of my vision essentially shaking, I guessed not.

Even as I shook off the surprise in my own actions and ability, the goblins began falling to their knees. I was still full of adrenaline, the words they chanted were strange to my ears and cacophonous due to the disharmony of the goblins. I felt my mana begin to return, and my head cleared slightly. The goblins all found a rhythm, and the words became clear.

“Dragon chief. Dragon chief. Dragon chief.”

As they chanted, I looked at my pulsing notifications.

Enemy Defeated

You have slain the Goblin Chief, Grubznoz (level 8).

Receive: +16 EP

Quest Completed: Road To Greatness

You have removed the goblin chief, and cemented yourself as the most powerful creature around. Congratulations, Boss.

Reward: Promotion to Boss Monster. 150 EP.

Achievement Unlocked - We’ve all wanted to do it

You have slain a boss monster.

Reward: 50 EP

Achievement Unlocked - The first step

You have completed your first quest.

Reward: 50 EP

Achievement Unlocked - You’re the boss

You are not a simple monster. You are powerful, feared, revered and unique.

Reward: 200 EP

New Spell

You have learned the spell “Blast of Intent”

Cost: 50MP

Emit a magical projectile.

It will seek the intended target, without fail.

Achievement Unlocked - A wise guy, eh?

You have created your first new spell.

Effect: Increased mana pool. Increased mana regeneration.

I looked over the prompts, elated. It was fair to say, I was salivating at the screens before me. I had not only completed the quest, I had been given achievements to increase the rewards. That single spell cast had made me much more powerful, as I looked and saw my mana pool had doubled from 43 to 86. It had more experience points from that one spell than I had expected from the whole village worth of goblins.

Riding high, there was only one thing left to do. I had hushed the goblins, and they all waited with bated breath below. None of them seemed upset, mostly they seemed excited to see what I would do next. Them and me both.

Promotion to Boss Monster

Continue?

Yes / No?

With glee, I pressed the yes icon with my physical claw. Imagining it looked rather mystical. I expected that this change would be dramatic, and letting the goblins see it happen could only be a good thing.

The world around me froze, and turned to grayscale.

“Well,” said a deep, scottish-accented voice, sounding like cognac on ice, “I must say, I expected it to take a little longer before we’d have our next chat.”