God Agent: All Hail The Great Kobold

The standoff between the two sides lasted nearly two minutes without either army making the first move. The narrow passage had transformed what should have been a battle of numbers into a contest of patience.

Grash had brought enough goblins to overwhelm the kobolds several times over, but there simply wasn’t enough room for those numbers to matter. Only a handful of soldiers could fight at the front at once, while everyone behind them was reduced to watching, waiting and listening to the breathing of the warriors standing beside them.

The kobold shield wall remained firmly planted across the tunnel, their spears protruding through the gaps while the slingers waited behind them with stones already sitting in their palms. Across from them, the goblin infantry maintained their own formation, shields raised and weapons ready. Neither side wanted to be the first to disrupt their formation and give the enemy an opening.

Grash stood at the rear of his army with his eyes fixed on Ka’z. He had barely looked at anyone else since recognizing the young kobold. The passage was crowded, the air was heavy and the smell of sweat, dust and blood lingered between the stone walls, but Grash seemed completely unaffected by the uncomfortable conditions. His expression remained calm, almost relaxed, as though the army surrounding him had already secured victory. Eventually, he broke the silence.

"You are here," Grash said calmly. "Good. It makes things much easier."

Ka’z’s eyes narrowed. He immediately understood that the words were not a compliment. Grash had not entered the cave merely to avenge his dead soldiers or reclaim the honor of the Ashmork Clan. From the moment he met this child, capturing Ka’z alive had been his primary objective. The knowledge contained inside the young kobold’s head was worth far more than the lives of the goblins he had sacrificed to reach this point.

Ka’z understood runes, arrays and strange techniques that could potentially change the future of an entire race. If Grash could take him back alive and force that knowledge out of him, the Ashmork Clan could gain something far more valuable than a victory over a single kobold colony.

Destroying the colony was only his secondary objective.

Ka’z’s grip tighten around his spear. The kobolds around him were already tense simply from standing before the man responsible for Tud’or’s death. Tud’or had been the greatest warrior their generation had produced, someone they had admired since childhood and whose strength had become a symbol of what their clan could achieve.

Ka’z refused to let that fear spread.

"Don’t be foolish," Ka’z hissed, his crimson eyes fixed on Grash. "You and your army will not leave this place alive."

The words had barely left his mouth when several footsteps sounded behind Grash’s formation.

The goblins immediately shifted and Grash calmly glanced over his shoulder.

Three figures were approaching through the rear of the army. The first was Lan’ka, his wounded arm concealed beneath his clothing but his posture still rigid despite the injury. Beside him walked a young dark scaled kobold around Ka’z’s age, his expression unusually serious as he observed the enemy army. But it was the third figure that made Grash’s expression change.

The newcomer was dressed in dirty yellow robes and leaned slightly on a staff as he walked.

At first Grash assumed he was a human. Then he noticed the scales beneath the sleeves.

His eyes moved upward.

Two horns protruded from beneath the man’s head covering. Grash stopped breathing for half a second.

The realization struck him with such force that his eyes widened despite his normally disciplined expression.

"A Gold Core magic beast!" he gasped.

The words traveled through the surrounding goblins, but most of them did not understand why their chieftain had suddenly become so serious. Rudor, Lucy and Brox understood immediately.

They had seen what happened when a magic beast advanced far enough to develop partial human characteristics.

It wasn’t simply a matter of appearance.

A magic beast that reached the Gold Core Realm possessed an entirely different level of power and understanding from those below it. And the kobold standing before them was not merely a newly advanced beast that had barely crossed the threshold. The relaxed posture, the controlled presence and the human like form all suggested that he had existed at this level for a considerable amount of time.

They understood exactly what kind of monster could stand at the Gold Core Realm and still walk around in a form resembling a humanoid. The beasts living atop the hill were terrifying precisely because of their age, accumulated power and understanding. A creature that survived long enough to reach such a realm was not something ordinary warriors could challenge.

So how had this colony produced one?

How had a group of kobolds, a race they had always considered inferior, managed to conceal such an existence beneath a hill?

Kong’gong calmly walked past the wounded Lan’ka and stopped near the front of the kobold formation. His eyes remained closed, just as they always were, and a warm smile rested on his face as though he had just stepped into a gathering of old acquaintances rather than a battlefield.

Thud!

His staff touched the ground.

The sound was not particularly loud, but something about it caused several goblins to stiffen.

Kong’gong smiled wider. "My... My... What scary goblins we have here. The last time I saw one was during a raid with my adventurer team three decades ago. This brings back good memories."

His tone was almost nostalgic.

That somehow made it worse.

Rudor, Lucy and Brox exchanged brief glances. The three had already experienced enough battles to understand that someone who could speak casually in a situation like this was far more frightening than someone who constantly threatened their enemies. Kong’gong wasn’t nervous. He wasn’t even particularly angry.

He was reminiscing.

And Grash noticed it too.

The chieftain’s eyes narrowed as he studied Kong’gong. He had fought countless powerful opponents throughout his life, and experience had taught him to distinguish between confidence and genuine indifference. The old kobold wasn’t pretending to be fearless.

He simply did not consider the goblin army particularly frightening.

Grash’s eyes slowly hardened.

"Varg said he saw a dragon in the southern region," Grash said, his gaze remaining on Kong’gong. "That’s why I chose to attack this land. Once again, he has been proven right."

Rudor’s expression immediately changed.

"Elder Varg did?" he asked, frowning deeply.

His eyes moved toward Kong’gong.

The pieces were beginning to fit together.

Varg’s warning had not been an exaggeration.

The Evergreen Forest was enormous, and over the years the Ashmork Clan had encountered countless races and settlements. Some were stronger than others, but none had ever presented the same terrifying combination of talent that this colony possessed. Their young were already capable of displaying abilities that made the Ashmork shamans look helpless. Their adult warriors were strong enough to challenge experienced goblin fighters. Their leaders possessed magic techniques that Grash himself had been forced to acknowledge.

And now they had discovered a Gold Core magic beast among them.

How could one colony possess so much potential naturally?

The realization made his stomach tighten.

If this colony survived and continued developing, what would it become ten years from now?

What about twenty?

The thought was precisely why Elder Varg had warned them.

The kobolds were already dangerous.

They simply had not yet reached the point where their potential could become a true threat to the Ashmork Clan. Grash, however, was not interested in allowing that future to develop.

"I’ll leave the front line to you guys," Grash said calmly. He shifted his attention toward Rudor. "Rudor, bring your shamans."

Rudor immediately understood. His gaze flicked toward Kong’gong.

Grash was going to fight him.

The thought would have been absurd to almost anyone else, but Grash had never been the kind of warrior who allowed an opponent’s reputation to determine his actions. He had spent years challenging enemies stronger than himself, and he had already once dared to climb the hill where the terrifying beasts lived.

That had been years ago.

Back then, Grash had not possessed the strength he had now. He had been defeated, battered and forced to retreat from the hill after realizing just how enormous the gap between himself and the beasts above was. But he hadn’t been completely helpless. He had survived their attacks and barely escaped with his life, and that experience had taught him something important.

A Gold Core magic beast was terrifying. But terrifying did not mean invincible.

Grash had spent years strengthening himself since then and now he stood before another Gold Core magic beast with an army behind him and no intention of retreating.

Grash stepped forward.

The goblins around him watched their chieftain move toward the front, and some immediately realized what he intended to do. The knowledge caused their fear to return, but Grash didn’t allow them to dwell on it. He raised his voice so that it carried through the cramped tunnel and reached every goblin behind him.

"Don’t be afraid. He may be Gold Realm, but he’s from a lesser race. He is nothing compared to the beasts living above the hill."

The statement was directed as much at his own army as it was at Kong’gong.

Several goblins straightened.

His battle axe remained in his hand, its blade scraping lightly against the stone as he approached the front. His eyes never left Kong’gong.

"He can be killed!"

The declaration echoed through the tunnel.