The scene was chaotic. The goblins had formed a loose, jagged circle around the remaining two spiders. A few of the adults were bleeding from shallow cuts on their arms, and the small, broken corpse of a runt lay sprawled on the cold stone nearby. Despite the loss, the tide had turned. These spiders weren't used to goblins fighting back with coordinated reach; they seemed visibly confused by the thicket of wooden spears constantly poking at their joints.
Every few seconds, the sharp crack of a breaking stick echoed through the cavern as a scythe-like leg sheared through a spear. Trashmob was the standout performer. Whether it was his higher level or pure desperation, he was landing the most meaningful blows. The spider he was targeting was leaking thick, black ichor from a dozen puncture wounds.
I gripped my hammer, ready to step in, but I hesitated. A cold, calculating part of my mind told me to stay back. I might lose a few more goblins if I didn't intervene, but the tribe needed this. They needed to feel the weight of a kill that they earned themselves. They needed to know that as a group, they could bring down a predator. Overcoming a superior enemy would teach them a lesson in unity that no speech from my throne could ever match.
A minute later, a triumphant roar erupted. Trashmob had lunged onto the spider’s back, impaling its head with his broken stick. He stood atop the carcass, screaming a guttural war cry into the dark recesses of the cave. The other goblins joined in, swarming the corpse and kicking it in a frenzy of newfound confidence.
The final spider fell moments later under a flurry of stabs. The tribe erupted in ecstasy, their high-pitched shrieks bouncing off the walls in a deafening wave of relief and pride.
I did a quick head count as the adrenaline began to fade. We had lost one adult and two runts. It wasn't a perfect victory, but for a first outing with wooden sticks, it wasn't the disaster I had feared. Curiously, no one else leveled up. I assumed the experience points had been spread too thin across the entire group to trigger a level up, but the shift in their morale was worth more than a stat point.
“Grab the corpses,” I ordered, my voice stern to snap them out of their bloodlust. “We’re heading back. Now.”
I didn't wait for a response. I turned and started walking toward the settlement, finally allowing myself to acknowledge the persistent notification pulsing in my mind. It was time to see what my own survival had earned me.
[New Class Selection available]
[Start Selection?]
I gave the prompt a mental nod, the adrenaline from the spider fight still buzzing in my veins.
[You have reached the threshold for Class Selection. Based on your combat history and recent experiences, please choose one of the following:]
- [Warrior]
- [Scout]
- [Vanguard]
The list felt frustratingly common. I felt a pang of disappointment that no magic-oriented options were available; I had always imagined myself slinging spells from the backline. However, the system was clear: these choices were based on my experience. Since I hadn't invested any free points into my mental stats yet and had spent every waking hour fighting for my life with hammers and sticks, the lack of a "Mage" path made perfect sense.
I started by focusing on [Warrior]. This was the class King Goper had possessed, and I knew firsthand how much of a monster it had made him.
[Warrior (E)]
Rank: Common
Description: The foundation of all physical combat. You have stood your ground against superior predators and survived through sheer resilience. Choosing this class focuses on the purity of the body. You will become a vessel of physical might, capable of wielding heavier weapons and enduring wounds that would fell a lesser creature.
- Primary Stat Focus: Strength, Constitution.
- Class Skill: [Slam] – A heavy, forceful strike that deals extra damage and can knock back smaller foes.
- Stats per level: +2 Str, +1 Con, +1 Free Point
It was an appealing choice, to say the least. Every kid dreams of being a mighty warrior at some point, and after seeing Goper’s physical dominance, I knew exactly how effective that [Slam] skill could be. Even if I didn’t choose this path for myself, I realized I would eventually need a frontline of warriors with this exact class if I ever hoped to raise this "trash kingdom" into something respectable.
The next option, however, seemed to be the gateway to something different, likely the beginning of a Thief or Archer-type build. I shifted my focus to the second prompt.
[Scout (E)]
Rank: Common
Description: You have learned that in these dark tunnels, seeing the enemy first is the difference between life and death. The [Scout] is the master of information and movement. You have already begun to value the 'reach' of a weapon and the safety of distance; this class will enhance your senses and allow you to navigate the shadows unseen.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
- Primary Stat Focus: Dexterity, Strength.
- Class Skill: [Eagle’s Eye] (Passive) – Significantly increases visual and auditory perception in low-light environments.
- Stats per Level: +1 Str, +2 Dex, +1 Free Point.
A part of me was deeply tempted to click "Select" right then and there. Back on Earth, every time I started an RPG intending to be a noble warrior, I inevitably devolved into a "sneaky archer" who spent half the game crouching in the shadows. There was something undeniably satisfying about the safety of distance.
The problem was that being a Scout would essentially make me a lone wolf. My objectives weren't the kind of things an assassin could handle alone. I was a King now, not a solo player, and I needed a class that would let me stand beside my goblins, not hide behind them.
Then, the final option caught my eye. It was highlighted with a subtle, shimmering border that the others lacked.
[Vanguard (E)]
Rank: Uncommon
Description: A path forged by those who refuse to lead from the rear. You did not simply order your tribe to fight; you jumped from the wall and charged at their head. You have used your intelligence to bridge the gap between goblin weakness and monster strength. The [Vanguard] is the tip of the spear, a leader whose presence on the front line inspires discipline and heightens the lethality of those who follow.
- Primary Stat Focus: Constitution, Charisma, Strength.
- Class Skill: [Shield Block] – Raise your shield or weapon to mitigate significant damage from incoming physical attacks.
- Class Skill: [Slam] – A heavy, forceful strike that deals extra damage and can knock back smaller foes.
- Stats per Level: +1 Str, +2 Con, +3 Free Points.
I stared at the description, my heart racing. This was it, the "Uncommon" rarity alone made it superior to the others, but the stat growth was what truly shocked me. Three free points per level? That was a massive advantage for someone like me who needed to balance physical survivability with the mental stats required for the [Goblin Chieftain] profession.
The description felt like a personal acknowledgement from the System. It recognized that I wasn't just a monster swinging a hammer; I was the "tip of the spear."
The choice was obvious. The higher rank alone made it the only logical path. While a small part of me was disappointed that I hadn't triggered a "Rare" or "Epic" class, I was still more than satisfied. An Uncommon class was a significant step up from being just another nameless monster.
This path offered two distinct skills. [Slam] was the offensive powerhouse I had been dreaming of ever since I saw King Goper use it, and [Shield Block] would provide the extra survivability I desperately needed to stay alive on the front lines. The only immediate drawback was my lack of an actual shield, but I figured we could scavenge or craft something sturdy enough soon.
Without further hesitation, I mentally selected the option.
[Gained Class: Vanguard (E)]
[Congratulations! Your class Vanguard (E) has reached Level 5]
I pulled up my status window to see the new totals.
Name: King
Race: Goblin
Class: Vanguard (E) (Lv. 5)
Profession: Goblin Chieftain (E) (Lv. 1)
Strength: 6
Dexterity: 3
Constitution: 7
Intelligence: 2
Wisdom: 2
Charisma: 3
Free Points: 5
Comparing these numbers to the pathetic state I was in when I first arrived in this world, the improvement was undeniable. However, I clicked my tongue in annoyance as I looked at my free points. I had been so caught up in the tension of the spider fight that I’d completely forgotten to assign the points I had gained from my Chieftain profession.
Survival was still the name of the game. I needed to be able to take a hit and keep standing, but I also needed to be fast enough to avoid being pinned down. I funneled three points into Constitution, pushing it to a solid 10, and put the remaining two into Dexterity.
Strength: 6
Dexterity: 5 (+2)
Constitution: 10 (+3)
Intelligence: 2
Wisdom: 2
Charisma: 3
I felt a subtle surge of heat through my limbs as the points settled. My skin felt tougher, my heartbeat steadier, and the slight clumsiness of my goblin body felt just a little more controlled. I wasn't a god yet, but for the first time, I felt like I was actually starting to inhabit this role.
When we finally trudged back into the settlement, I ordered the group to pile the new corpses in front of my throne before sending everyone back to their respective tasks.
As I looked down at the heap, my eyes widened in a mix of shock and revulsion. They hadn't just brought the spiders; the bodies of our fallen adult and the two runts lay tangled among the hairy arachnid legs. I hadn't yet decided how to handle our dead, I wasn't naive enough to think we had the luxury of a proper burial ground, but seeing them hauled back like groceries was a different matter entirely.
"Morkish," I started, trying to keep my voice steady. "Why did they bring the goblin corpses back?"
Morkish tilted his head, his cloudy eyes unblinking. "You ordered them to bring all the corpses, my King."
I suppressed a sigh. On one hand, I was glad they followed my orders to the letter, but on the other, it was a stark reminder of just how precise I needed to be with my language. To a goblin, "all" meant everything that wasn't stone.
"And besides," Morkish added after a beat of silence, "it is food."
I whipped my head toward him, my stomach doing a violent flip. "Do you really eat your own kind?"
He shrugged, a gesture so casual it made my skin crawl. "It is food, my King." He repeated the phrase as if I had just asked him to confirm the color of the sky. To him, meat was meat.
"Well... for now, move them to the side," I commanded, waving a hand toward the far wall. I needed time to think. If my stomach turned at the thought of eating bitter spider flesh, the idea of goblin cannibalism was a line I wasn't ready to cross.
Morkish barked an order, and a couple of runts dragged the bodies into a dark corner near the cave wall. I knew they would eventually rot if I didn't act, but I had more pressing concerns. My most immediate problem was manpower; I needed more goblins, and I needed them better equipped.
I had to find the source of these "runts." I had two choices: I could lead a scouting party into the deeper, uncharted tunnels to find where they were spawning, or I could wait for the [Neural Archive (E)] to recharge and simply ask the system.
The logic part of myself knew the second option was the smartest. Heading into the unknown without information was how you got a "Game Over."
I still had six hours before I could consult the Archive. To kill the time, I ordered Brick’s team to gather more black wood for a new batch of [Pointed Sticks]. As I watched them work, I poked at the pile of spider remains with my foot. My gaze lingered on the thick, curved segments of the Level 3 spider's carapace.
An idea began to form. I had the [Shield Block] skill now, but no shield. If we could harvest these plates, we might be able to craft something more than just "pointed sticks." We could finally have armor.