Returning to the lair wasn’t an issue. I had come to know the tunnels like the back of my hands, and the group of adventurers had only gotten a few miles after their slaughter. With a consistent use of strengthen, the dwarf didn’t feel any heavier than a bag of sugar, so our pace was good. It took around an hour, and the walk was mostly silent.

There was a choice whether to change the path slightly, but I intentionally made Salan walk through the now eerily quiet, trashed goblin village. It was a concerted attempt to break a little more of her will in regards to being on my side. It was certainly working, her eyes raw and red within moments. I truly believed she had little to do with the massacre, and this was not a punishment any more than it was a reinforcement of why my ideals are what they are.

“If I want something, I will get it. Depending on the need, I will fight for it. I am not, however, a tyrant.” Salan was quietly listening, clearly amused at the sight of me carrying her ally, a smirk on her face. “I am new to this world, and I am not trying to hurt people, unless they deserve it.”

“Like Hadonis.” I pretended not to hear Salan’s whisper, savouring the hate in it and allowing it to assuage my conscience. If someone who’d spent time with him felt it was just, then I didn’t have anything to worry about.

“I want to live in comfort, and I have ideas about how to do that. Plans which will take much longer now that my forces have been decimated.” I didn’t mean to bristle, but walking through the still corpse-ridden goblin town had reignited my anger slightly. Still, revenge had been served in it’s icy-cold best and flaming hot worst. I was nearly over it.

Arriving at the large iron door, Salan made a point of how quickly it had been fixed. “Perks of being powerful,” I said as an explanation and left it at that. The goblins were all inside and Grannda squealed, along with another female goblin. The pair were cleaning clothes in the running water. Pride exploded in my heart at the sight of the sudsy bubbles on their hands.

“Don’t worry.” I cast my voice out, intentionally deepening and projecting it. “I have taken revenge for our fallen brothers and sisters. These two are here to pay penance.”

The surrounding goblins looked at each other confused. None of them argued, and I hadn’t expected them to. I would have been happy to explain myself, but the goblins weren’t really the types to ask too many questions. Grannda kept staring towards me, and I couldn’t blame her considering I was still deadlifting the dwarf over my head.

I directed Salan to my living area. I had not seen the inside, and the goblins had been wise enough not to come in here. As we passed the guard’s barracks, it had become distinctly more… goblin. There was no other way to say it. Where the wood had been created from nothing, it had appeared somewhat draconic. There were slight carvings and figureheads on the walls. Now, somehow, there was a grey-green tinge to the wood and surrounding area. I forced down the desire to throw them from my lair and accepted the aesthetic.

My own abode had changed from an alcove to a lodge of stone. From the outside, it looked as though someone had made the rock completely malleable, pinching and pulling on it until it left enough room for a building. The dark rock jutted out sharply, with angles that felt ferocious. I was pleased.

The inside was like a gift directly to the Isaac within me. Inside the building, the rough rock became smooth, marbled and pristine. There was furniture, leathers and cloths and wood that made the room feel like a very fancy studio apartment. With pleasure, I saw that the structure went deep into the rock. There was a kitchen, complete with a basic stone oven and sink with running water.

It was just a pile of rocks with a grill, and a hole in the wall above a hole in the floor… but it was a home. It had amenities, side rooms and a seating area. I reminded myself that I was a kobold now, that I had claimed to be an emperor, and that crying over an oven would be hard to explain.

My stomach growled and I gave myself a quest to cook a pizza in that stone oven as soon as possible.

“It’s… not quite an empire… I just realised I don’t know your name. You’ve used mine, but… What should I call you?” Salan wasn’t looking at me as she spoke, instead taking Logue and placing him more comfortably on the armchair I had thrown him over.

“A burgeoning empire, I’ll concede. I am Izaark. The goblins address me as Mighty Izaark, but you can use whatever feels right.”

Salan did turn then, fixing a piercing gaze on me that I didn’t know she was capable of. Her eyes were suddenly bright, vibrant greens for a moment before returning to the deep brown they had been. I didn’t look away, and she blinked first, looking to the floor.

“You’re just about the most insane thing I’ve ever heard of, just so you know.”

“That’s fair. I assure you, my own confusion has been ever present. When it comes to the things I do, try not to worry. There’s a rhyme to my reasoning. For now, get comfortable here. The goblins won’t disturb you, I’ll inform them of the situation and come find you in about an hour or two.”

I decided that my work in convincing the dwarf and the elf was over. They would either join my efforts or not, and I would decide what to do only after they decided first.

Finally free of the burden of the dwarf, I felt the complaints that my shoulders had been trying to tell me about for the last hour. Rolling my shoulders, I took a walk in my new and improved lair. The goblins had moved some of the more important things into storage, which I would leave to them. I had my inventory for anything important.

My inventory! I had nearly forgotten about the small collection of magical items I had accrued. I didn’t actually have any desire to use the items, happy with the ring and amulet for now, but they were taking up space. I passed a few large piles of glowing mushrooms and dumped the collection of expensive equipment.

Taking a second thought, I picked up the dagger. It was weighted nicely in my hand, though it was a little more like a shortsword. I nicked the breastplate of brilliance and was pleased to see it sizzle slightly with the acid effect. If it worked on inanimate objects, this was a potentially very useful item. I pondered that, placing the dagger back into my inventory.

Free of material burdens, I turned and made my way to the goblin barracks. A leader’s work is never done, and the goblins had generally stopped productivity after seeing me, Salan and Logue. I went with confidence, reminding myself that I was not explaining my actions, but telling the goblins their new normal.

An issue I needn’t have worried about. Grannda, as usual, was the first to approach me. It was not trepidation in her eyes though, but excitement.

“Mighty Izaark has taken a concubine! Carried the filthy dverg’s body back too! Mighty Izaark!”

“Ah. There were about seven crossed wires in those broken sentences.” My colloquialism didn’t help the confusion, but I pressed on. “The elf and the dwarf are my guests. They will be allowed freedom of movement in the lair, leave them alone unless they need you for something.”

Doubt and uncertainty evolved into the more insidious insecurity. I watched as it’s tendrils took root in the goblin’s mind and couldn’t stop myself from rolling my eyes. I was not spending time on interracial relations between my assorted followers as they aggregated, that felt like a quagmire that I’d never step out of. They would either get over it, or I would choose the more valuable party and remove the issue.

“Well done on the soap,” I carried on, as though my previous words were just as casual as talking of soap. “Has Frakko awoken?” It had been around six hours since I had left the goblins in my lair, another three or so since the attack.

“Uhh, r-right Mighty Izaark,” Grannda’s stumbling reply said she wanted to speak more on the subject of the guests, but knew not to. “Frakko’s still knocked right out. Might sleep for another week. None of us know the mumbo jumbo enough to tell.”

That was disappointing. Frakko’s use of magic had been massive in saving the few goblins left and it was different to my own. I needed to know more about his and Salan’s magic, how it worked and whether I could learn their spells. So far, I had used my magic effectively but… well, I wanted more. I couldn’t argue that hasten, strengthen and my force spells weren’t useful, but Salan could heal wounds and Frakko, it seemed, could create illusions.

“Okay Grannda, that’s fine. Tell me immediately when he wakes up though.” I would ask Salan to check on Frakko if he didn’t wake in the next few hours. If she helped, that would hopefully let the goblins be more accepting of her and Logue. “Gather everyone up, I have something to show you.”

Grannda happily left my presence. She was definitely more anxious around me than she needed to be, but that was her problem as far as I was concerned. I didn’t know if what came next would make that more or less of a problem, but it was also irrelevant. I hurried back towards my lodge and was surprised to hear a voice like boots on gravel coming from within. I waited a moment to judge the tenor of the discussion and plan my words to the dwarf.

The voice was, I realised, attempting to be hushed. There was no chance of that considering the panic also present in it, so I reasoned that my appearance might not be ideal right now.

“Wait, wait, wait. We’re… behind a locked door. With the kobold that tore our party apart and a small warband of goblins.” Salan was silent, apparently letting Logue come to terms with the situation in his own way. “Ash, Aeya and Hadonis are dead, no one will know where we are or that we even need help. Oh, Salan this is… pretty fucking bad.”

“When he lays it all out like that,” I couldn’t help smirking at Logue’s surprisingly high pitched yelp as I entered the lodge. “It’s definitely a dire situation. If I wanted to harm you. Though, if I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have carried you for miles.”

When it came to the dwarf, I had decided to be upfront and direct.

“Right, so now what? I’m your slave, a nice handy dwarf to work over the forge for your little goblin army? From one master to another, is that about right?”

Man, I absolutely nailed my guess about these guys. “Not at all. Obviously,” I let my voice dilute with a drop of sycophancy, “I know that dwarves are master crafters. I’m a week old, and even I know that any would-be emperor would be happy to have a dwarf blacksmith.” I was desperately hoping that the cliches of the fantasy I knew, along with the hint from the dwarf’s mace, would hold true. Nailed it again, I thought as I saw repressed pride on Logue’s face, Gotcha. “To be honest, I just don’t want this to happen again. We’re not harming anyone who doesn’t harm us, and if I can show you two that, then maybe others won’t have to die.”

That was true enough, though I definitely was hoping that I could convince Salan and Logue to at least stay for a while. There was a lot I needed to learn about this world, specifically the topside where, it seemed, the real danger lay.

“Look,” I said to Logue when the silence was about to get awkward. “I don’t hold a grudge about killed goblins, I have taken that revenge. If anything,” I applied a hopeful layer of magnanimity, “I really wish that the other elf hadn’t attacked me. My rage was spent on your weasel of a leader.”

“First,” Logue said, still clearly unsure, “he was not our ‘leader’. He was our owner. It’s not a simple thing, so I can’t be happy it’s done, but I don’t hate you for him or for Aeya. Second, Ash was a good man.” Logue looked over to Salan, who I saw had slightly sore looking eyes. “I’m sorry about Ash, Salan.”

“So am I.” She said little else. I had surmised they were close. Whether they were lovers or relatives wasn’t clear, but his life had definitely been precious to Salan. Which made it all the more interesting that she was clearly willing to forgive me and bring Logue with me. “Logue… I can’t go back.”

There had been a pregnant silence between her two small sentences. The two were sharing a silent moment that I was not privy to the nuance of. Both of their brows tightened, their eyes hardening at the same time.

“Do you really think it could work?” Logue asked Salan.

“I don’t really care. What is the worst that could happen?” I didn’t care for Salan’s dismissal of my potential, but I understood what their looks meant now. Logue had been searching for a lie in Salan’s eyes, and saw none. He turned that analysing gaze onto me, now.

“You’re just about the strangest creature I’ve ever seen,” Logue said, unknowingly mirroring Salan’s earlier words. “Salan seems to be under the impression that there’s an opportunity here. I personally think she’s as crazy as a rockmole with no nose, but I also don’t see much choice for myself.”

“I don’t imagine there’s a promise I could make that you would believe, Logue.” I had heard somewhere that a person’s name was their favourite sound in the world, so I hoped the same rang true across different species. “I can prove myself by action. However, you also attacked my people and they deserve reparations. I suggest you figure out how you can be useful enough to earn the forgiveness for that before worrying about your other choices.”

I left steel in my voice and it had the desired effect. Logue maintains eye contact for a few heartbeats more before looking down, jaw set and a slight slow nod to his head. It looked like I had them.

“Now, I’m a little excited about this next thing,” I told the pair, “so I’d like you to come outside to see.”

“What? You got us a gift or something?” The dwarf’s voice was playful enough that I saw it for the joke I was.

“I’m hoping you’ll enjoy the show, though I’m not entirely sure how it’s going to work. Just come out.” The two followed me out of my lodge, which I grimaced to realise was going to be “our lodge” for a little while. I hadn’t even got to enjoy my new home before moving roommates in. I shuddered, but swallowed it down. The goblins had gathered, seven of them. Only six had been mobile when we arrived, so one of the others must have woken up.

I didn’t make Logue and Salan stand amongst the goblins, but the lair wasn’t that big. There was definitely a tension, but I gathered attention onto myself with a snap of my clawed fingers. That was the thought process as I raised my still mangled hand. I lowered it, and instead cleared my throat to the same effect. It didn’t even hurt any more, but it was honestly hard to look at. My HP was full by now, maybe that was why there was no longer pain.

“Forgive me if this ends up being anticlimactic. Let’s hope it isn’t.” Now that all eyes were on me, I could begin. Without further explanation, I finally accepted the prompt that had been eating away at me for hours. I had become sidetracked by Salan and Logue, and it had given me time to think that depending on how much I changed, they might need to see it happen to believe I was still me.

As the prompt pinged in acceptance, the lair began to shake. It surprised me, and I was the one who had done it. To everyone else, I just basically said get ready for something dramatic, waved my hand in the air for a moment and then the world started rocking back and forth. I didn’t know what they saw next because the world around me darkened.

I was reminded, instantly, of being in my egg. It felt like a long time ago, but it was only days. The feeling of constriction, of muscles that did not know how to move yet, brought bile to my throat. I definitely had claustrophobia at this point. Luckily, I could still feel the rumbling lair around me, and faintly hear noises, which meant I was still there.

The evolution was occurring. I focused on the sensations that I could feel. The slowly dying aftershocks in the lair. A white noise of different muffled voices. I could feel my mana congealing in an uncomfortable way before it seemed to press through me. It didn’t create a feeling of pain, but it wasn’t pleasant. My mana channels seemed to stretch as though I were pushing a blockage out. In my mouth was the taste of… fire.

With a feeling of release, the tension in my mana channels disappeared as though it were never there. It was as though there were more room for my magic to move around within me, my circuits more easily understood and yet more complex in nature at the same time. It was euphoric.

After a few more moments, feeling came back to my arms, legs and tail. I moved my head, my neck and shoulders feeling loose. I felt great. I opened my eyes to a nearly-pitch black darkness. Tinted with purple, the shell was thinner than my previous egg had been. I began to stretch my legs, releasing them from the curl they were in.

It was the strangest feeling of my entire collection of lives, Earth, the in-between and then Gaia. As my feet touched the shell, I could feel them. The shell was supple, like… leather. It almost hurt a little as my claws pressed against the shell and I stopped. As I pressed, there had been a pulling in my shoulder. I reached up to check and light exploded into my shell.

As I reached up, I had moved my arm. In doing so, I had also moved my… wing.

Not a shell, but wings which had enveloped me in a heartbeat. Wings that I now, as I stood and rolled my shoulders some more, could feel. Leather wasn’t entirely wrong, but it was just tough skin that happened to be alive. Covered in my own scales, attached to my back.

It was taking me a second to process because I was pretty sure I just grew wings. And that was the best thing ever.

I looked away from the two amethyst coloured wings to Salan and Logue. Salan appeared to be stunned in amazement, her eyes as wide as her smile. Logue was somewhere between terrified and intrigued, I felt. I could see why as I followed his gaze as it jumped from me, to the ceiling of the lair which now seemed much higher. Then his eyes moved to the goblins.

The goblins who… had been replaced by monsters.

The monsters actually looked like the goblins, but they were lanky. They must have torn the goblins apart in moments, tattered clothes lying around them. Their skin was less of a mottled grey or vomit yellow-green to a healthier complexion. Still green or grey, but more solid and healthy looking. One of the monsters, which seemed female, made eye contact with me, looked down at itself and then ran into the goblin barracks with a shriek.

Were the barracks always so sturdy looking? The fresh water seemed louder, with more of an echo. Confused, I defaulted to checking my prompts.

Evolution

Congratulations.

You have evolved from Kobold (Tier 0) to Winged Kobold (Tier 1). Your lair has evolved to match your new tier. Any followers you had have evolved to match your new tier. All attributes increased.

Ah, so these were the goblins. The lair had gotten bigger. As I looked at my profile page, I nearly wept with excitement, and for whichever poor soul gets on my bad side next.

“Well… That certainly wasn’t anticlimactic, I hope.”