Chapter 144 Game of Mercy

As the guild members continued on, blissfully unaware of his mischievous presence, Hermit, with his scrawny legs that were barely worthy of being called legs, summoned what little strength he possessed to attempt the daunting task of ascending the grand staircase.

Each step was a monumental challenge for the feeble goblin. With every stride, his minuscule legs strained and quivered, as if begging for mercy from the difficult task of scaling those treacherous heights. 

The poor creature's breath grew ragged, matching the rhythm of his pitiful footsteps. The handrails were carved with intricate designs, and he couldn't help but run his tiny hands along them, feeling the smoothness of the polished wood. Hermit couldn't resist the temptation to caress them with his tiny, trembling hands.

Upon reaching the upper floor, Hermit discovered a long hallway adorned with paintings and carpets. He studied each artwork, his eyes twinkling with wonder at the skill and beauty displayed in every stroke. Among them, his favorite was a painting of a majestic dragon soaring through the sky, its scales glistening in vivid colors.

Hermit stood frozen in awe, his mouth hanging wide open like a cavernous pit, a steady stream of drool streaming down his chin like a waterfall. His elongated tongue, comically long, dangled precariously, nearly grazing the ground with each twitch. It was as if his tongue had taken on a life of its own, desperate to explore the world beyond the confines of his mouth.

His eyes bulged out of their sockets like two inflated balloons, threatening to burst from the sheer magnitude of amazement that consumed him. They shimmered with a brilliance that could rival the sun itself, reflecting the intricate details of the picture before him. Every line, every stroke of the artist's brush seemed to come alive in his vision.

A noise in a nearby room spooked Hermit, it sent shivers down his wretched spine. With a panic-filled heart, Hermit's beady eyes widened, and he turned tail, desperately scuttling down the staircase. His legs, feeble, scrawny limbs, struggled against the weight of his own miserable form. Each step was a Herculean feat, a battle against gravity itself. His frail muscles strained and quivered with every movement as if they were on the verge of surrender.

Hermit's hobbling gait resembled that of a wounded creature, his spindly legs quivering and threatening to buckle beneath him at any moment. Yet, driven by pure instinct and terror, he pressed on, his weak knees knocking together like a pair of broken branches in the wind. And so, with every ounce of his pathetic strength, Hermit finally descended to the first floor.

Goblin, with his grotesque appearance, scampered across the cleanly polished marble floors. His feet, tiny and moist, slapped against the surface with a wet, squelching sound that echoed through the corridors. It was as if each step he took left a slimy residue behind, making the floor glisten with a bizarre sheen.

His distorted limbs flailed about wildly as he moved, giving the impression of a demented, spindly creature in motion. With each stride, his moist feet left behind wet imprints, leaving a trail of moist footprints behind him, as though he were a grotesque snail on the run. The sound of his clapping feet echoed through the hall, creating a symphony of damp slapping.

He leaped onto a velvet-covered chair, its softness a stark contrast to his rough skin. Excitement surged through him as he climbed up to a massive wooden bookshelf. There were shimmering chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, their crystal prisms catching the faint light. Hermit couldn't resist reaching out and gently tapping one of the crystals, causing it to sway and sparkle with a mesmerizing glow. The shelves were lined with big tomes, their pages filled with knowledge. Hermit pulled out a book twice his size and flipped it open, only to be greeted by an incomprehensible swirl of map diagrams. He chuckled to himself, realizing that he had stumbled upon something beyond his goblin understanding.

Hermit's curiosity got the better of him, and he scurried towards a set of double doors at the end of the hall. Pushing them open, he found himself in the training room. Feeling emboldened by his newfound freedom, Hermit couldn't resist exploring the training grounds. He stumbled upon a vast arena, its sandy floor bearing the marks of countless battles. His tiny goblin heart skipped a beat as he imagined himself engaging in epic duels against fearsome opponents.

With a feeble attempt at a mischievous grin, he clumsily picked up a discarded toothpick-sized wooden sword, barely able to lift it. In his delusional fantasy, he began practicing his swings and parries, each movement resembling a flailing octopus trying to perform ballet. It was a pitiful sight.

He hopped and stumbled around the room, pretending to be a fearsome warrior, but his wild goblin movement was more akin to a three-legged puppy attempting an awkward dance routine. With every leap, he barely managed to leave the ground.

As he contorted his body in a desperate attempt at elegance, it was impossible not to burst into laughter. His feeble swings and wimpy parries were reminiscent of a newborn baby swatting at a mosquito with a limp noodle. The wooden sword, which looked oversized in his tiny hands, threatened to topple him over with its immense weight.

The walls were covered in mirrors, reflecting his green, scrawny frame. Intrigued, he began performing a goofy dance, watching his own movements come to life in the reflections. His laughter echoed through the room as he twirled and leaped with joy.

Hermit returned to Suzuka, who continued her peaceful slumber. She was unaware of the grand adventure he had experienced within the guild building. He couldn't resist the urge to touch and examine everything around him, feeling a sense of awe and wonder. The sight was breathtaking to him, he had never seen such architecture.

Lisanna returned from the restroom and sat behind her reception desk, deep in thought, completely ignoring Hermit's presence. She was still feeling down after receiving Suzuka's scolding. Pulling a book out of her desk, she immersed herself in reading.

After all of his explorations, Hermit's belly started to grumble, and he found himself feeling very hungry. With a timid demeanor, he slowly approached Lisanna and mustered up the courage to speak, "Ummm... Master? Can I ask you something, please?"

However, Lisanna was engrossed in her book and responded harshly to the ugly goblin, "If you dare to speak to me without permission again, I will punish you severely. I'll cut off your ears and force you to eat them. Now, get lost."

Filled with fear, Hermit let out a high-pitched squeal, "Wrreeeee!" and scurried over to Suzuka. He cautiously poked her leg, hoping to grab her attention, but she remained oblivious to his presence. He moved to the other side and tried poking her other leg, yet still received no response. With his tiny little finger, he attempted to prod her thigh, but his efforts were in vain. Fearing the possibility of a kick to the face, Hermit quickly scuttled behind Suzuka and gently poked her side, hoping for a reaction. Unfortunately, he received no response once again.

Not willing to give up, Hermit improvised a plan. Summoning every ounce of strength from the depths of his being, Hermit gazed upon a humble chair, its presence beckoning him to seize it with all his might. With a lowered roar, pathetic muscles straining, and sweat dripping down his furrowed brow, Hermit mustered the courage to pull the chair close to Suzuka. 

He stood before the towering chair, its formidable stature resembling a majestic mountain. Unyielding in the face of adversity, Hermit tackled on his climb, each step a testament to his unwavering spirit. His ascent, fraught with unimaginable hardship, resembled an arduous journey up the treacherous peaks of a colossal mountain. With sheer tenacity, he conquered its summit.

  Attempting to capture her attention, he positioned himself close to her and began poking her breasts persistently. His tiny slim fingers danced across Suzuka's cleavage, her cheek, and even her nose. 

Finally, unable to ignore the persistent prodding, Suzuka opened her eyes, realizing the lengths Hermit had gone to get her attention. Hermit rejoiced, "Oh! Finally, Master is awake!"

Suzuka looked at him and asked, "What do you want? Go and play in some corner, bother me only then if you have a sword pressed against your through. Got it?"

Hermit shyly said while fidgeting in place, twiddling his finders, "B-b-b-but M-master, Hermit is hungry. Food, please! Hermit is very hungry, Hermit's tum-tum hurts when hungry."

Hermit pointed at his open mouth with his finger and said, "Tum-tum hurts if no food. Master, please. Hermit doesn't like when tum-tum hurts and rumbles."

Suzuka grabbed him by the neck and slapped him on the table then said while pointing her finger at the bowl with fruits, "Look, there are some fruits on the tables in this guild, go around and have a feast! I don't care, they are free so knock yourself out, eat as much as you want."

Hermit said while desperately rubbing his hurt behind in an attempt to relieve some pain, "Ouchieee, Master! My bum-bum hurt, please Master, gentle with bum-bum. Ouchieee! Ouwiee!" 

Hermit mustered the strength to rise from his hunched position. With feeble, trembling steps, he clumsily traversed the table. Each movement was an arduous struggle because his bottoms were hurting. Finally, he reached the fruit bowl, where his eyes met the sight of a peculiar, unknown fruit - a banana. It was an exotic delicacy that had evaded him throughout his wretched existence.

With a shaky hand, Hermit plucked the banana from its resting place, holding it gingerly as if it were an ancient artifact. His big eyes studied it intently, his mind racing to comprehend its mysteries. He turned it around and around, peering at it from all angles, desperate to unlock its secrets.

Hermit summoned the courage to take a bite. But the moment the fruit touched his tongue, a repugnant bitterness overtook his senses. His face twisted in a grotesque display of revulsion, contorted by the sheer horror of the taste. His frail body convulsed as he fought to suppress the gagging reflex, emitting a guttural sound that echoed his utter misery.

"Ehwiee!" he yelled, his voice a pathetic whimper. "Hermit does not like yellow fruit! The yellow fruit is yackieee! Hermit, not likieee!" 

Yet, despite his distaste, Hermit knew that in his desolate existence, every morsel of food was a precious commodity. With a heavy heart and tear-filled eyes, he forced himself to consume the rest of the banana, swallowing each morsel with a guttural sound.

Suzuka looked at Hermit's tormented face as he struggled to eat a banana and swallowed it with disgust etched on his face then said, "Idiot, you supposed to peel the banana and eat what's inside not the whole thing." 

Hermit spoked by her harsh words desperately clung to what remained in the bowl, his frail fingers trembling because of the hunger. With great struggle and exertion, he mustered every ounce of strength to claim down the table. His feeble limbs quivered as he lowered his less dominant hand first, like a withered leaf descending from a dying tree. Inch by agonizing inch, he slid his scrawny body down over the edge of the table, left helplessly hanging in the air.