Goblins

It was a crisp, clear autumn day. Young Borne sat in the carriage, gazing out the window, while the Count sat beside him with his eyes closed in meditation. Although he possessed some memories of a past life, they had not fully awakened; for Borne, leaving the castle for the first time, a sense of unease was inevitable.

Seeing the Count remained unmoved, Borne slowly calmed his mind and silently began to circulate his "Qi."

The lingering heat of the Indian summer remained, and as noon approached, the temperature steadily climbed. The distant fields had begun to turn yellow, and the breeze rippling through the wheat looked like waves on the ocean.

The caravan headed west, intending to pass through the Nosef Forest to reach the Kingdom Highway. From there, they would turn north, crossing the Standing Stone Plains to arrive at the royal capital, Seventon.

At the edge of his vision, the silhouette of the castle was slowly obscured by the dense woods, with only the flags atop the towers remaining vaguely visible. With knights guarding both sides of the caravan and his grandfather—a high-level arcanist—by his side, Borne had no reason to worry about his safety.

In reality, the distance from the rural castle to Seventon was not great; the caravan could make the trip in two or three days. Back then, the Count had simply used magic to accelerate their travel, arriving in half a day.

Now that there were more people, they clearly had to travel at a normal pace.

Seeing Borne settle into his state, the Count nodded secretly and began to explain the matters he should pay attention to upon arriving in Seventon.

Arcane arts were just beginning to emerge, and Netheril was still a small nation. The arcane empire was something that existed only in the "novels" of his past life, serving as little more than background flavor. Borne only knew that Netheril would become a super-empire, and for thousands of years to come, the entire continent of Faerûn would be shrouded in the shadow of Netheril's floating cities!

However, the detailed information was incredibly vague.

Yes.

"Vague"!

It seemed as if some peculiar force was affecting his memories. As Borne mastered "mana," he gradually began to understand this mysterious power!

Gaia?! The will of the world?

This forced Borne to grumble inwardly. Being a transmigrator was one thing, but to have no system or cheat codes was another—even his foresight was being "sealed." How was he supposed to play this game?

Fortunately, Borne had a premonition that as his strength improved, the world's influence on his memories would gradually diminish, eventually disappearing altogether.

The most pressing issue now was to quickly increase his strength. Thanks to the benefits of his transmigration, Borne's innate mental power was quite high, which greatly increased the efficiency of his meditation. However, he knew his own situation best: after gaining mana, he had completely given up hope. Without a system, even his "golden finger" (mental power) had an expiration date. He didn't know how long he could keep up the facade of being a genius.

The older a spellcaster grew, the stronger their mental power became. As time passed, Borne's advantage would be gradually leveled out, not to mention the existence of peculiar family secret arts, magical techniques, and more. In this world where half-elves were as common as dogs and liches roamed the land, anything could happen!

Fortunately, he was in the early stages of Netheril. As long as he seized this window of time to climb into the middle ranks, or even become a high-ranking official like the Count, he could enjoy the dividends of Netheril's development. One had to realize that even if the Netherese Empire eventually vanished, any magic or artifacts originating from it would cause a massive stir.

All he needed now was to utilize the benefits brought by his mental power. Coupled with his young body, his mental power would continue to strengthen for at least the next 15 years, enhancing his cognitive abilities, memory, and deductive reasoning!

However, the strengthening of his mental power also brought side effects: his powerful mind resulted in a relatively weak physique.

Therefore, he had to devote a portion of his energy to practicing breathing techniques. Yet, this breathing technique was incomplete, and as the number of repetitions increased, the effects had become increasingly poor. He had to find a way to obtain a complete monk legacy!

Moreover, Borne was extremely eager for a monk's legacy!

Reality was not a scene from a novel, nor was it a game. There were no system attributes; in a game, a strike to the head just depleted a health bar.

But in reality, no matter how much armor one wore, equipment did not stack attributes. If the head was unprotected and struck, one would die just the same!

Thus, the monk's Qi became exceptionally important. It provided a genuine increase to the body's base constitution, and in the later stages, it even granted abilities that could be called "bugs," such as an ageless body, immunity to poisons, and transcendence.

For the death-averse Borne, this held immense appeal.

If he hadn't already known that Faerûn would eventually become the domain of arcanists, Borne would have run away from home long ago to search for a monk's legacy.

There was no useful information in the rural castle; Borne had already flipped through every book in the study without finding a single clue regarding monks.

Since this was a small place, Borne set his sights on the Count's estate in the royal capital. Even if the Count didn't have it, other places in the capital should.

In games, multiclassing came with penalties and relied on experience points from killing monsters. In reality, there was no such thing; it relied on the constant honing of skills. It was not uncommon for mages to multiclass as warriors, and some even learned a trick or two from other professions if they met the requirements.

High-level professionals were a watershed. If the primary and intermediate levels were still within the range of normal humans, then the high level was completely superhuman.

Upon advancing to the high level, all physical attributes underwent massive changes, and one's talents would also shift.

This led to many combat professionals breaking through their spellcasting limits and awakening mage talents when they reached the high level.

Afterward, they would often switch directly to studying magic. That was why one often heard stories of an old mage on the battlefield who, after exhausting his spell slots, didn't die—instead, he beat his opponent to death with his staff!

The world of Toril was a place where multiple races coexisted. The current Netheril was not yet the terrifying arcane empire of later generations.

Borne saw humanoid subspecies for the first time: goblins with orange-red skin, wearing tattered leather clothes, hanging not far from the caravan.

The goblins had broad faces, flat noses, pointed ears, and large mouths filled with sharp, venomous fangs. Their foreheads sloped backward, and their dull eyes ranged in color from red to yellow. They walked upright on two legs, their arms hanging down to their knees.

Borne knew that goblins within the same tribe usually shared the same skin color. They typically lived in tribes, and their commanders were usually the largest, strongest, or even the smartest members, often led by hobgoblins or bugbears.

"It seems they have marked us as prey," the Count said from the side. "They should be targeting those who cannot easily protect themselves. It appears a goblin tribe has migrated nearby. Goblins are naturally inclined to bully the weak and fear the strong; without a commander or a hobgoblin leader, they generally wouldn't dare to attack a caravan with defensive capabilities."

Borne would have learned these things after arriving in Seventon, but there was nothing better than a field lesson.

As the Count spoke slowly, Borne gained a comprehensive understanding of goblins.

Goblins relied on robbery and theft to survive. They often slipped into dens, villages, or even cities under the cover of night to take whatever they wanted. They would also ambush unfortunate travelers on the roadside, stripping them of all their belongings, sometimes even leaving them without clothes. Occasionally, goblins would capture other creatures to perform manual labor for the tribe, and when food was scarce, they would eat them directly!

Goblins lived wherever they could, from damp caves to dark ruins. They had almost no concept of privacy, with many goblins huddled together, eating and sleeping in the same area. Their dens were extremely unhygienic and usually emitted a foul stench. Goblins often set up their territory near civilized areas to plunder food, livestock, tools, weapons, and supplies. Once a goblin tribe had hollowed out an area, they would quickly pack up and leave, moving on to another civilized region. Sometimes, hobgoblins or bugbears would appear among the goblins; the latter two were usually the tribe's commanders, and some goblins even formed alliances with worgs, riding them into battle.

As a chaotic race, goblins had many names in the magical world.

Evil spirits, monsters, bugbears, and goblins!

While they were characters that served as cannon fodder or experience-givers in games and novels, their actual combat effectiveness was not low.

A piece of information suddenly flashed through Borne's mind.

Establish Unity Town as a base of operations to defend against the goblins!

Since the Crown Wars of the elves, there had been few massive disasters on the continent of Faerûn. There were basically no major events involving gods, and anything that could be recorded on the timeline was considered a significant affair.

Borne breathed a secret sigh of relief, but just then, the goblins before him began to shriek, and hundreds more appeared all around. One goblin in particular looked exceptionally burly and savage; it was clearly the commander, as those thick arms could easily crush a child with a single punch.

If ordinary goblins were only slightly weaker than the average human—to the point where trained soldiers could take on five at once—then hobgoblins were comparable to professional combatants.

Furthermore, goblins were like weeds; they reproduced so rapidly, crop after crop, that even rats would call them "big brother."

After the elves finished their civil war, their population was nearly wiped out, and many other races had suffered heavy losses as well. With vast territories left vacant, the goblins ushered in their golden age; a single litter could produce several offspring, and they reached maturity in a year or two, ready to breed again. Their numbers grew at a geometric rate!

In a world of the extraordinary, quantity often represented strength. Once their numbers swelled, there would inevitably be those who broke through the limitations of their race.

For instance, hobgoblins, bugbears, and even... goblin lords.

If a border backwater like Nether could see such a massive gathering of goblins, then they must be running rampant everywhere else.