Chapter 379 Putting on Big Boy Pants

Hermit’s lips quivered as he stood there, his whole body trembling like a leaf caught in a storm. His red from crying, swollen eyes stared at Suzuka, searching her face for something—anything—that would prove he had misheard, that she would laugh and say it was just a cruel joke.

 But there was nothing. No denial. No kindness. Just that same cold, dismissive expression.

His small, shaking hands clenched into fists at his sides, his tiny nails digging into his own palms, trying to anchor himself as his entire world shattered around him. His voice, when it finally came, was broken—thin and raw, barely a whisper.

“Master… p-please… t-tell me I misheard… please…” His voice cracked, thick with grief.

 “T-The goblins… our eggs… our children… y-you’re handing them over? L-Like… like they are nothing? A trade…? S-s-s-sacrifice?!”

His breath hitched, his chest heaving as if the weight of his pain made it impossible to breathe. His large, teary eyes were pleading, desperate for an answer he knew he wouldn’t get.

“I thought… I thought we were safe with you…” His voice wavered, filled with hurt and disbelief.

 “I-I told them… I told them we finally had a place, a home where no one would take us… that you—” His voice cracked again, and he squeezed his eyes shut as another wave of silent sobs wracked his frail body.

His legs gave out from under him, and he fell to his knees, his fingers gripping the floor as if he was holding onto the last bit of his shattered hope.

“Why…?” His voice was barely audible now, a painful whisper that carried all the sorrow and betrayal that had crushed his tiny heart. 

“Why would you do this…?”

Hermit knelt there, his body trembling like a brittle leaf caught in the storm, his breath ragged and uneven as his tiny chest rose and fell in painful gasps. His large, teary eyes glistened with heartbreak as he stared up at Suzuka, his master—the one he had believed in, the one he had devoted himself to. His lips parted, but no words came at first, just a shallow, shuddering breath as if he was choking on the weight of his own sorrow.

Then, his voice, thin and broken, clawed its way out.

“Master… I am begging you... tell me I misheard… tell me this isn’t true… tell me… tell me you’re not trading our eggs… our children… like some bartered goods…”

Suzuka leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, her golden eyes dull and uninterested as she watched the little goblin tremble before her. His tear-soaked face, his quivering lips, his body curled inward like a beaten dog—none of it seemed to move her in the slightest.

She sighed, tilting her head slightly as if this entire ordeal was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

 Then, with a flat, almost bored tone, she said, "Ah-ha, cat’s out of the bag, ain't it? Well, yeah, I do. What about it?"

Hermit convulsed at her words; his head shook side to side as if her words have slapped him across the face. His small hands, trembling so violently they barely obeyed him, clutched at his chest, his fingers digging into his skin as if trying to hold himself together, as if he could stop his heart from shattering inside him.

“I told them… I swore to them… that this place… you… that we were safe now! That no one would come in the night and take us away, that no more would we be dragged from our homes, screaming, pleading, begging—!”

His voice broke into a sob, his breath hitching, his body curling inward as if trying to shield himself from the unbearable weight of betrayal crushing him. He squeezed his eyes shut, the tears falling freely now, soaking into his trembling hands.

“You… you were the one who told us we could stay… you were the one who gave us a name… a home… I believed you! I believed in you more than I believed in the gods themselves!”

His tiny fists thumped against the floor, his nails scraping against it. 

"I—I must be dreaming’—yes, yes! Bad dream! Nightmare! This is not real—can't be real! But it hurts too much to be a dream! Master! Was it all a lie?! Were we just tools to you?! Just things to trade away like sacks of grain?! My kin… my unborn brothers and sisters... they—they’re not things, Master! They feel! They dream! They trust you!"

He choked back a sob, his small frame convulsing.

"And I… I trusted you too..."

Suzuka’s boots clicked against the wooden floor as she leisurely made her way around the trembling goblin, her movements slow and deliberate. A smirk tugged at her lips as she reached the door, pushing it shut with an almost mocking gentleness. The click of the latch locking into place sent a shiver down Hermit’s spine.

She turned, arms crossed, head tilted, golden eyes gleaming with amusement as she stared down at his pathetic, crumpled form.

“Awww, poor, poor goblin,” she cooed, her voice dripping with mock sympathy.

  “So heartbroken… so betrayed… it’s almost adorable how much faith you had in me.”

She crouched down in front of him, resting her elbow on her knee, her face mere inches from his.

“Well, now you know the truth. And what, pray tell, will you do about it?” Her voice was velvety, taunting, like a cat playing with a wounded mouse. 

“Hmm? You gonna run? You gonna fight me? Gonna go tell your little goblin friends?”

She let out a laugh—low, cruel, entertained.

“No, no, no. Let me tell you what you will do, little Hermit.”

She leaned in closer, her breath warm against his ear. 

“You will do nothing.”

She pulled back just enough to watch his reaction, her grin widening.

“You will act as if nothing happened. You will smile, bow, and serve me just like before. Because that’s what you do, isn’t it? That’s what you’re good at. Being useful.”

She tapped a finger against his forehead lightly, like scolding a misbehaving pet.

“So be a good goblin, Hermit. Cheer up. That’s all you can do.”

 "Why... master... why do us so... why?" Hermit mumbled under his breath.

Suzuka leaned back against her desk, arms crossed, her golden eyes locked onto Hermit’s miserable form. She let out a sigh, shaking her head as if she were explaining something obvious to a child who just couldn’t grasp the bigger picture.

“Look, Hermit, as for why—it’s simple. We needed Valerius’ support. Without him backing us, this land, this town—everything—wouldn’t have been approved. We’d be squatting in the dirt, waiting for some noble or mercenary to come and wipe us out.”

Her gaze was like ice as she stared down at Hermit, her voice cutting through the room like a whip. 

“Hermit, I know this is hard for you to swallow, but you need to see the bigger picture. You need to remember where you came from. You need to remember what it was really like for your kind before I stepped in.”

She took a slow, deliberate step forward, her voice dropping into a darker, more menacing tone.

 “Have you already forgotten the breeding farms? How much fun you and your kin had in there. The stinking, festering pits where your kind was crammed together like animals, bred for nothing more than labor—tools to be used until they broke? Do you remember the stench of blood and rot that hung in the air? The screams that never stopped?”

Her eyes narrowed, her voice growing harsher. 

“Do you remember how the weak ones were dragged out in front of everyone and beaten to death with clubs—just to teach the others a lesson? How their bones cracked under the blows, how their blood splattered across the dirt while the rest of your kin were forced to watch, too terrified to even cry out? Or how they starved you—just enough to keep you alive? You worked until your hands bled, until your bodies gave out, and then you were tossed into the mud like garbage.”

She tilted her head, her golden eyes burning with a cold, unforgiving light.

 “And the hatchlings, Hermit. Do you really want to talk about the hatchlings? How many times did you watch your precious little goblin babies—your own kin—get ripped from your arms? How many times did you hear their tiny screams as they were smashed against the walls, boiled alive in pots, or eaten raw like snacks right in front of your eyes?”

Her voice rose slightly.

 “Do you remember how they laughed, Hermit? How the evil goblins cheered as they chomped their flesh and blood? How the ones who tried to protect their young were strung up and flayed alive, their skin peeled off strip by strip while they screamed for mercy? How their broken bodies were left to rot in the mud, food for the rats and flies? Remember all that?”

She gestured sharply toward the window, her voice softening slightly, though the intensity remained. 

“And now? Just look at them. Tell me, have you ever seen your kin so happy? Laughing? Smiling? Eating till their bellies are full? Owning things? Living in their own houses, under their own roofs, with their own beds?”

Helen turned back to him, her arms falling to her sides.

 “No more whips. No more beatings. No more being treated like filth under someone’s boot. I gave them this. No! You and I gave them this. We gave them purpose. Something to live for.”

She took another step closer, her voice firm but not unkind.

 “So, tell me, Hermit—really—is this such a high price to pay for their happiness?”

She let the question hang in the air for a moment.

 “And before you start thinking of this as some horrible thing, let me tell you—Valerius isn’t hurting them. I’ve seen them myself. They’re dressed well, well-fed, even happy. They’re learning, solving math problems, reading books. They have a better life than they ever would have had in the wild, where the only thing waiting for them was misery, pain, and a slow... brutal... death!”

 “So, Hermit… what’s it gonna be? Are you really going to throw all this away over one little deal? Or will you put on your big boy pants and do what's right?”