Chapter 363 Exaggerated Regrets

 Their wide, bulging eyes darted around like panicked rodents, and they pressed their filthy faces into the dirt, groveling with all the fervor of terrified creatures who knew death could come with a single misstep.

“Mercy, mighty Master! Mercy, please!” squealed one goblin, his voice shrill as he clutched his oversized, rusted helmet that barely clung to his head.

 “We are useless! We know! But please, no smash us! We work harder, we do! No sleep! No eat! Just work for you, great Master!”

Another goblin, his pot for a helmet rattling as he shook, crawled closer on his belly, tears mixing with the grime on his face.

 “We beg, we beg! No more hurting! We are sorry, we are stupid, yes! We didn’t fight good! We are weak, we know! But we are loyal! Always loyal! We lick boots, yes, yes, we do! Just no hurt, please, no hurt!”

One of the smallest goblins, nearly lost in the crowd, bawled out loud, snot running down his crooked nose as he slapped himself repeatedly. 

“Bad goblins! We are bad! We deserve crush! But please, Master, let us live! We fix, we rebuild! We no run, we stay and die for you, yes, yes! Just no smash, no break bones! Goblins too soft for smashing!”

A chubbier goblin, clutching a cracked wooden spear that looked more like a splintered twig, nodded furiously, his head bobbing like a broken doll’s.

 “We fix everything, Master! We build better walls, strong walls! We no complain! We just work, no rest! Goblins work day and night, till fingers fall off, yes, yes! Please, mighty Master, we beg forgiveness, we are sorry worms! Groveling worms!”

The goblins’ fearful cries grew louder as Suzuka’s icy gaze bore into them, their words becoming more frantic, incoherent, and desperate by the second. They threw themselves onto the ground repeatedly, their grubby hands clawing at the dirt as if trying to bury themselves in it. 

Her red eyes swept over the cowering group, and her voice cut through the silence with a fierce edge.

“What happened here?” she demanded, her voice echoing with anger and authority. Her glare was like fire, burning through their craven expressions. The goblins could do nothing but tremble and stutter, the weight of their failure hanging heavily in the air as they awaited her judgment.

One of the more composed goblins finally stepped forward. He was shaking so violently he could barely stand, his knees wobbling as if they were about to give out. His voice came out in a high-pitched whine, more like a screeching rat than anything else.

“P-Please, mighty master! We tried, we did! B-but the Pig Wolves came in packs, they are so mean and nasty, biting and tearing! We throw spears, we do! But the beasts just laugh at us, they do! They are too strong! We weak, yes, yes, we weak!” He dropped to his knees, tears streaming down his filthy face as he groveled at Suzuka’s feet.

Another goblin chimed in, his words tumbling over each other in a panicked rush.

 “Please, master, no punishment! No punishment, we beg! We work so hard, we do! We dig, we build, we plant crops! We good goblins, yes! But Pig Wolves, they mean, they rip us apart! We are no match for them! Master Jacob was our hope, but he got hurt bad, oh so bad, and then we all ran! We are so sorry! It was our fault! So, so sorry!”

A third goblin, not to be outdone in his desperate plea, threw himself face-first into the dirt, slapping his forehead against the ground repeatedly. 

“Forgive us, great master! We stupid, useless goblins! We are no good at fighting, we cry when holding weapons! We mess up, we mess up big time! But we beg you, no crush us! No squish us! We work times harder, many times harder! We’ll dig ditches, build walls, anything you want, master! Just please, no punishment! No punishment, please!”

The group of goblins broke into a cacophony of wails and snivels, each one scrambling to outdo the other in their display of pitifulness. Some began smacking their heads on the ground in unison, others clawed at their faces in a show of exaggerated regret.

“Please, master, we worthless, but we try! We try so hard!” one cried.

“We grovel! We bow! We lick your boots if you want! Just don’t squash us like bugs, please!” another wailed, snot dribbling from his nose as he sobbed uncontrollably.

They all began to chant in unison, “Mercy, master! Mercy, master! Mercy, master!” Their voices rose in a discordant chorus, growing louder and more desperate with each repetition, their terror growing as they awaited Suzuka’s response.

Suzuka’s rage was a living fire, burning hotter with each passing second. Her voice dropped to a dangerously low growl.

 “Pig Wolves? No shit! Yeah, I figured as much. What I don’t know, where Jacob is?! Where are Hermit, Thorin, Dwalin, and Silvia?”

The goblin who had been the first to speak flinched violently at the sound of Suzuka’s growl, nearly biting his tongue as he stumbled over his words.

 “They... they’re inside, M-master! Inside, everyone inside. Please! Mercy! They all alive, master, we swear it!” His voice was choked by the terror of what awaited.

Without hesitation, Suzuka stormed past the barn doors. Olivia remained outside, she took up a position near the entrance, her eyes scanning the surrounding area with sharp, unwavering focus. Her presence was a rare and needed relief for the goblins who had been guarding the barn, their nerves frayed and their resolve shattered by the recent onslaught.

The goblins, still shaken from the recent attack, had been left on edge, their sense of duty strained under the weight of their fear and exhaustion. Olivia, armed and alert, approached them with a mixture of firmness and reassurance. She offered a few words of comfort, though her voice was more a whisper than a balm, and ensured that they remained vigilant, but not overwhelmed.

She tossed a few chunks of dried meat and a waterskin to the nearest goblin, who caught it with shaky hands.

“Here, take this and get your strength back. It’s not exactly a feast, but it’s better than gnawing on bark, right? Maybe you’ll even grow a little muscle after this - who knows, you might start looking like warriors instead of a bunch of soggy noodles.”

One goblin sniffled, his lip quivering as he tried to muster some courage.

 “Lady Olivia… we no good at fighting… we just run and hide… we useless…”

Olivia rolled her eyes and smirked. 

“Yeah, well, running’s a skill too, isn’t it? The way I see it, you’re not useless - you’re just really good at strategic retreats. Besides, you’ve got me here now, and you’re under Helen’s protection. You know what that means, right? You’re not gonna get eaten on my watch, so stop acting like you’re about to be served up as Pig Wolf stew.”

She straightened up, clapping her hands together as if signaling the end of the conversation.

 “Alright, enough doom and gloom. Stay alert, but don’t work yourselves into a panic. And remember - when in doubt, think to yourself: ‘What would Lady Olivia do?’ Then probably do the opposite, because I tend to do the reckless stuff. You, on the other hand, just keep those spears ready and your wits sharper.”

The goblins, still jittery but visibly calmed by Olivia’s mix of sarcasm and encouragement, exchanged uneasy glances. One of the goblins, slightly braver than the rest, raised a trembling hand as if he were in class.

“L-Lady Olivia,” he stammered, “we… we do what you say! We poke Pig Wolves in the eyes! We do! We will not run... well, maybe just a little, but only strategic running! Yes, yes!”

A goblin near the back whimpered, “But… but what if they come at night? They sneak, they bite, and then… then we end up like poor Gofer, my dear friend, he had bad luck, Lady Olivia! He tried to run but tripped on his foot and got gobbled! We no want to be gobbled!”

The first goblin, desperate to impress Olivia, slapped the whimpering one on the back.

 “We no get gobbled! We stay close and huddle in piles like smart goblins! We poke anything with sharp sticks - Pig Wolves, shadows, leaves, everything! Masters are back! We are brave now! Very brave!”

One particularly anxious goblin was rocking back and forth, clutching his wooden spear like a life preserver.

 “Yes, yes! If Pig Wolves come, we scream very loud and hope they run away! Loud screaming very good plan! It worked… um, never, but we try again!”

“Thank you, Lady Olivia!” they squeaked in unison, bowing so low that their oversized helmets clanged together with a metallic thunk.

 “We do our best! We fight, we scream, we no run! We serve Lady Olivia with all our goblin hearts - until we no more, or until dinner time!”

Their enthusiasm, as misplaced as it was, held a certain sincerity that only a gaggle of half-starved, panic-stricken goblins could muster.