"CoolMiss_Lily2?" I repeated, blinking like my brain just buffered mid-sentence. Who wakes up in a magical new world and goes, yeah, that's the name—perfect, no notes? Definitely a player, I concluded. No doubt. NPCs don't commit crimes like that.
"Yes," Urkap nodded calmly, like she just introduced royalty. "An odd name, you might say."
"Not really," I replied with a shrug.
In my gaming years, I've seen worse. Much worse. Names that looked like someone headbutted a keyboard and called it identity. ShadowDr@gon. Boy$upot. I_pikachu. And the legendary emotional damage combo: 143_Michelle. Yeah. Compared to those, CoolMiss_Lily2 was practically classy.
Urkap gave a small smile, the kind that didn't quite reach the eyes. "She was lovely, mind you. Unlike other humans, she refrained from killing us… or any being that posed no threat."
That hit harder than expected.
I shifted on the wooden bench, suddenly very aware of the dried blood still clinging somewhere on my clothes. My grip on the bowl tightened slightly.
Right.
I just killed some of her kin.
And now we're here. Eating. Talking. Like this wasn't a post-battle therapy session.
"Uhh… umm…" I cut in, unintentionally stepping over her words. Smooth. Real smooth. "About earlier. I… apologize for—" I paused, throat tightening. "Erm… ki—"
"Killing my kin?"
Straight to the point. No sugarcoating. No escape route.
"Yeah," I admitted, scratching the back of my head. "That."
A strange warmth spread across my chest. Not the good kind. The kind that sits there, heavy, like guilt just clocked in for overtime.
Urkap didn't lash out. Didn't snarl. Didn't call for my head.
Instead, she sighed.
"I should apologize for their actions, young hero."
Wait—what?
Her expression hardened, but there was more pain than anger in it. "I told them not to seek revenge in the heat of rage. Yet they did not listen."
Her fingers tightened around the rim of her cup. I noticed the subtle tremble.
"While we were tending to the wounded… rebuilding what little we had left…" she continued, voice low, "they snuck out."
She paused.
"We only realized when we were about to have our evening meal."
There was something about the way she said it—evening meal—that made it feel… normal. Domestic. Like this wasn't a monster camp, but just… a village trying to survive.
"Though," she added quietly, "it is a small price to pay. They learned. I made sure of that."
Her gaze drifted somewhere far beyond the broken walls of the mess hall.
"They now understand that their actions led to the deaths of their friends… their brothers."
Silence followed.
Not the awkward kind. The heavy kind.
The kind that sits between people and refuses to move.
I swallowed.
Okay… wow.
This wasn't how goblins were supposed to be. Where were the screeching, brainless EXP piñatas? Where was the "kill on sight, loot later" setting?
Instead, I got… grief. Reflection. Consequences.
"For that," she continued, looking back at me, "I thank you. You chose to stop the madness… and you spared my only grandson."
Durbab.
The big crybaby with a mace and emotional instability.
"Uhh…"
And there it was again. My signature move.
If this were a call center evaluation back in my old life, I'd be flagged for excessive filler words. "Agent lacks confidence. Recommend retraining." Immediate QA death.
But seriously—what do you even say to that?
"You're welcome for not murdering your grandson" didn't feel like the right tone.
A soft crack echoed from the nearby brazier, snapping me out of my mental spiral. Sparks floated upward, briefly lighting the dim hall with flickers of orange.
Urkap followed the sparks with her eyes.
"Lilly…" she said softly.
And just like that—
Everything tilted.
Her face blurred.
No—not blurred.
Zoomed.
My entire vision tunneled straight into the giant mole on her nose.
Of course.
Of all the cinematic transitions available in this magical world, my brain chose mole zoom-in. Fantastic.
Great. Into the cutscene we go.
I braced myself as the world collapsed into that wrinkled, unfortunate focal point—
—and then—
Light.
A sudden burst.
Blinding.
The mess hall vanished.
I stood in a field.
Green stretched endlessly in every direction, swaying under a soft wind. The sunlight wasn't normal—it shimmered in layered hues of yellow and green, like someone spilled watercolor across the sky and forgot to clean it up.
And there—standing in the middle of it—
A young goblin.
Small. Fragile.
Covered in red.
Not the aesthetic kind.
The real kind.
Blood soaked her ragged clothes. It clung to her arms, her face, dripping from her fingertips. She was crying—no, sobbing—but no sound came out. Just silent, broken movements.
She pulled at something.
An arm.
A lifeless goblin's arm.
Her grip slipped again and again as she tried to drag the body closer.
No response.
No movement.
Nothing.
The wind whispered through the grass, the only sound in a world that refused to acknowledge her grief.
Then—
A shadow fell over her.
Large.
Oppressive.
Wrong.
A man.
No—an adventurer.
He stepped into view, dragging another limp goblin body like it was trash. He tossed it aside with a careless flick.
His beard was stained dark. His sword… worse.
Still dripping.
And then—because apparently humanity has no limits—he licked it.
I physically recoiled.
"Uhm… yeah, no," I muttered under my breath, even though I knew no one could hear me.
The sound vanished again.
Silence swallowed everything.
His gaze locked onto the young goblin.
A grin spread across his face—twisted, stretching unnaturally as colors rippled around him like oil on water. Dark energy pulsed off him in waves.
He moved.
Fast.
His hand clamped around her from behind.
She struggled. Kicked. Bit.
No sound.
Just desperate motion.
He laughed—mouth wide—but again, no noise. Just the visual of it. Somehow worse.
Then—
A flash.
Purple.
Sharp. Clean. Violent.
A beam tore straight through him.
His body jerked.
Froze.
Then collapsed.
The grip on the goblin loosened. She dropped to the ground, gasping, clawing at the air like she forgot how breathing worked.
Sound returned.
The wind. The rustling grass.
Life.
A figure approached.
Not rushed.
Not frantic.
Calm.
A hand reached down, outlined in golden light from the sun behind it.
The young goblin hesitated—then grabbed it.
And immediately bit it.
Hard.
I winced. "Fair reaction."
The figure didn't pull away.
Instead—
"It's okay."
A voice.
Warm. Gentle.
Real.
"You're okay."
The hand moved to the goblin's head, patting softly.
The young goblin froze.
Tears still streamed down her face—but something changed.
Not safety.
Not yet.
But… the possibility of it.
And for the first time since the vision began—
The world didn't feel like it was about to collapse.
It just… held.
For a moment.
And that moment felt important.