Luke walked steadily through the forest toward the cave, the rustling of leaves and clear chirps of birds a welcome change. His heightened perception made every sound distinct. In the distance, he heard rhythmic thuds on the branches. Instantly alert, he tensed—then a smile broke over his face as he activated his Predictive Pattern Analysis Skill. Before his eyes, a holographic display of sound waves appeared, mapping the direction of the approaching noise.
Without hesitation, Luke tapped into his Burst Sprint, leaping from branch to branch. He gripped Shiki's massive battleaxe, ready to strike swiftly. At the predicted moment, he weaved the axe at the last second—only to see that the source of the noise was none other than Grut. Lowering the weapon, Luke chuckled softly.
"Chief?" Grut called out in a hesitant tone, mistaking Luke's transformed figure for Shiki.
Luke replied, "It's me, Lok."
Grut's eyes widened as he took in Luke's new appearance—taller, thinner, and more refined, with defined muscles that hinted at a power beyond that of an ordinary goblin. (Remember, Luke had evolved into a variant hobgoblin, unlike the regular goblins around him.) Grut studied him carefully and then asked, "Where's the chief?"
Luke shook his head sadly. "He died protecting us."
For a brief, heavy moment, Grut stood silent, the weight of loss evident on his face. Then Luke patted Grut's shoulder reassuringly. "Let's go check on the others."
They reached the cave entrance where the younger goblins, along with the females and elder females, huddled together, tending to Rok and Zog's injuries. The other goblins—whose speech was rough and guttural, reminiscent of the stylized speech in the old Planet of the Apes films—stared in terror at Luke's changed form for a moment. Suddenly, Grut, speaking in clear, human-like tones, exclaimed, "It's Lok!"
The startled goblins relaxed as they recognized his voice. One of them, in broken speech, asked, "Where chief?"
Luke's reply was steady though laced with sorrow: "He died protecting us."
A hush fell over the group, their grief palpable. Then Grut remembered the chief's final command. He reached for the necklace—the very one the chief had ordered to be passed on—and said, "Chief said you're our new leader."
Luke smiled gently as he took the necklace and fastened it around his neck. A spark of hope replaced his grief as the goblins began to cheer. Their joyous voices, a mix of human-like clarity from Grut and the rough, guttural affirmations of the others, filled the air. In that moment, a new foundation for their settlement was born, and Luke felt a renewed sense of purpose as he led his people into the future.
Luke led them deeper into the cave. The gentle trickle of groundwater provided a steady rhythm as some goblins paused to drink, their guttural murmurs punctuated by satisfied grunts. Soon, he guided them along a narrow, dark passageway that sloped downward. Though a few hesitated with wary, low rumbles—"Mmm... scary"—they trusted Luke's steady stride and followed.
After a tense walk through the cramped corridor, they emerged into a spacious cavern—a hidden world of bioluminescence. Glowing crystals studded the rough walls, and strange, vine-like plants dangled from the cavern ceiling, their luminous fruits casting eerie, shifting patterns of light. Amid this surreal glow, the dim illumination also revealed a grisly scene: massive spider corpses lay scattered across the floor—some as large as the goblins themselves.
Grut, ever alert and speaking in clear, measured human tones, notched an arrow and approached one of the fallen beasts, probing it with his bow.
"So this is where you were," Grut observed. "I didn't know creatures like these existed."
Luke turned to face the assembled goblins, his stature towering over them. "This is where we will stay for the moment," he announced.
A murmur of concern rippled through the group. One goblin, his broken English halting, burst out,
"Spider? Spider no good?"
Luke offered a reassuring smile. "Don't worry—I killed them all." Though uncertainty lingered, the goblins responded with simple, low grunts and scattered affirmations like, "Me help" and "Me go."
For a moment, Luke considered ordering a scavenging party to the old village, but seeing the fresh trauma in their eyes, he sighed. "Grut, guard the entrance. I'll be right back," he instructed.
"Where are you going?" Grut asked, his tone mixing concern with duty.
"I'm heading back to the village to salvage anything useful," Luke replied. Almost immediately, several goblins shuffled forward, their voices a rough chorus of, "Where chief?"—their speech simple and fragmented.
Luke shook his head sadly. "We are on our own now," he said.
A heavy silence fell over the group, their grief conveyed in soft, mournful grunts and downcast eyes. Then Luke looked around at the 21 goblins huddled in the cavern and continued,
"I need five volunteers to join me. The rest will tend to Rok, Zog, and the kids."
A flurry of rough, choppy affirmations erupted—short exclamations like, "Me help!" and "Me go!" After a brief moment, Luke selected Grut along with the four energetic female goblins, their voices echoing in simple, raw phrases.
With that, Luke set off once more into the uncertain darkness of the underground, his mind already racing with plans for their new future—a future where every spark of innovation and every scrap of salvaged material could forge a stronger foundation for their rebirth.
Luke strode through the forest, testing his new system as he went. He opened the map—the display was still active, confirming there were no immediate threats. With a few practiced swipes, he navigated to the Technology Tree. At the very top, the blueprints of the Stone Age lay neatly arranged, followed by those of the Agriculture Age, the Neolithic, and then the Bronze Age.
Next was the Iron Age—now unlocked for some reason—which showcased innovations like cannons, the early rise of rifles and hand cannons, and the birth of gears. Hand cannons, he decided, would be the priority. Below that, he saw blueprints for the Industrial Revolution (spanning from 1760 to 1950, just after World War II), followed by the Information Age. Then came the era of his original world—the Quantum Age—and next, the Cosmic Age. Space. The thought of designing a spacecraft brought a delighted gleam to his eyes. Each blueprint, he noted, corresponded to a specific credit cost.
Switching over, Luke reviewed the skills and tools his system had unlocked. The Goblin Village Management tool was still there—thankfully—as was the map and the ever-useful inventory. The new Augmented Virtual Simulation allowed for direct blueprint creation and analysis; now he could design something virtually and immediately simulate its effects, without the restrictions of the previous system. Although he found the 12th Seal vague and confusing, he resolved not to question it for now.
The interface then highlighted a new tool: [Virtual Crafting]. According to its description, it allowed him to craft items in a virtual space using resources from his inventory. Another tool, the Geo-Penetration Scanner—essentially an improved, less restricted Resource Detection system—was also available. And then there was the Magic Tome. It promised that every magic spell visually created would be saved, its quality depending on his MAG stat. Luke mused that this could be a lot of fun.
His excitement peaked when he discovered the [Virtual Magic Simulation Space]. Intrigued, he opened the tool, and the panel transitioned into a blank screen. Concentrating, Luke pictured a fireball—and there it was, materializing before his eyes. A smile crept across his face. "Let's try something else," he thought, then imagined a neutron colliding with a heavy atom, sparking a chain reaction of atomic events.
As the simulation unfolded, a side panel displayed the mana requirements: a standard nuclear explosion would need a staggering 500 MAG stat. Luke's eyes widened in amazement—this simulation was designed just for magic.
He laughed softly to himself, thoroughly entertained by the possibilities. Nearby, a few of the goblin females exchanged whispered remarks in their broken English, murmuring, "New chief go crazy, no?"