A month had passed since Shaoran had settled into his life in Solva, and the world around him had changed. The once-rough wooden shelter he had built was now a more refined home, a sturdy mud house that stood strong against the elements. The foundation had deepened, the mud walls thickened, and the roof had been strengthened with layers of dried leaves and hardened clay. Inside, the house had evolved to meet the basic needs of survival—one bed, a small dining area, a modest kitchen, and even a bathroom, though it was rudimentary. Shaoran had captured several slimes from the swamp, using their unique properties to create a crude sewage system. It wasn't elegant, but it worked.
His hard work in clearing the land had been rewarded by the system, granting him new abilities. He had leveled up significantly, reaching level 100 after days of constant grinding. The system's voice had become a background hum in his mind, a constant presence that had helped shape his journey. The latest reward was something far more useful than the simple skill of survival: techniques to control animals.
Shaoran had started small. At first, he tried training the wild animals that wandered near his home, particularly the wolves. With some trial and error, he developed a rudimentary form of control, but it was crude. It wasn't until he encountered an ape, a massive creature with a thick coat of fur and an intelligent gleam in its eyes, that his true potential began to emerge.
The ape had been a curious beast, wandering too close to his territory. Shaoran, having grown bored of constantly fighting for survival, saw the opportunity to experiment. After several attempts, he managed to bind the ape with the control technique the system had granted him. The creature, for all its strength, now obeyed his commands, acting as his butler of sorts. It followed him around, helping with odd jobs, fetching water, and even tidying up the yard. In exchange, Shaoran fed it, trained it, and gave it the occasional treat of meat from the rabbits or other creatures he hunted.
But Shaoran was never satisfied with just one success. He wanted more. He wanted a workforce.
That's when he found the goblins.
It had been a strange day. He'd ventured deeper into the dense woods, scouting for potential prey, when he came across a band of goblins. These weren't the tiny, weak creatures that one might expect. These goblins were a little larger, with sharp eyes and rough, weathered skin. They didn't attack immediately. Instead, they watched him from the shadows, cautious but curious. Shaoran had learned over the past few weeks to be wary of such creatures, especially in a world as unpredictable as this one.
But the goblins didn't make a move. Instead, they muttered among themselves in a language Shaoran couldn't understand. Their speech was guttural, sharp, and odd, but not entirely unintelligible. He kept his distance at first, observing them, his mind racing. Goblins were notoriously clever. Maybe there was something he could use here. He waited until nightfall, when the goblins grew bolder, and then, with a careful whisper of the control technique, he struck.
The first goblin fell to the ground with a strangled yelp, its body twitching as the control rune embedded itself into its mind. Shaoran had learned quickly that it was dangerous to try controlling more than one at a time—each rune needed focus, precision. The second goblin attempted to flee, but Shaoran, now more experienced, sent out another rune, quickly overpowering its resistance. The goblins were no match for him now.
Over the next several days, Shaoran killed dozens of goblins, each time refining his control over them. He learned their strengths and weaknesses, honed his rune technique with every encounter, until finally, after the 50th goblin fell at his hands, Shaoran felt it: the delicate twinge of success. One of the goblins had broken, truly broken under his control. Its eyes were dull, its spirit sapped. It was no longer capable of resisting him. Shaoran's rune had bound the creature completely.
The goblin, now nothing more than an obedient servant, stood at attention in front of Shaoran, waiting for his next command. Its body was small, but its eyes glinted with an intelligence Shaoran hadn't expected. It was far from the mindless creature he had imagined it would be. In fact, it was almost... human.
Shaoran raised an eyebrow, intrigued. The goblin was smarter than he'd thought. He had been prepared to use it for manual labor, maybe to help with tasks around the house, but this—this could be something more. The idea came to him almost instinctively. The goblins were good with their hands, skilled craftsmen in their own right. Maybe they could do more than just fetch and carry.
"Cook," Shaoran commanded.
The goblin didn't respond right away. Instead, it stared up at him, confused. But then, after a moment, it nodded slowly. It wasn't exactly fluent in the human tongue, but Shaoran could see that it was processing the command. Slowly, the goblin grunted out a sound that almost resembled the word.
"jeok?" it asked .
Shaoran grinned. The goblin wasn't perfect—far from it—but it was learning. He was seeing the spark of something he could use. With some patience, he would turn this goblin into a proper assistant.
For the next week, Shaoran taught the goblin the basics of cooking. He showed it how to prepare the meat he hunted, how to season the food with whatever herbs and spices he could find in the jungle. The goblin picked it up surprisingly fast, its movements becoming more fluid as the days passed. By the end of the week, the goblin had learned the fundamentals: how to cook a stew, how to roast meat, how to prepare meals that were actually edible.
Its speech improved as well, though it still spoke like a child—slow, clumsy, and with a limited vocabulary. But every day, it seemed to understand more, picking up new words, mimicking Shaoran's speech. It could hold a simple conversation now, though it often sounded more like a baby learning to talk than an intelligent creature. But it was enough for Shaoran.
The goblin—who, by now, had earned the name "Krak" from Shaoran—became the cook of the house. Shaoran often found himself surprised at how quickly the goblin adapted to its new role. It worked diligently, preparing food and even cleaning up after meals, though it still had a lot to learn about hygiene and cooking techniques. But it was a start.