Grimgal of Ashes and Illusion - Volume 16 - Chapter 13

13. I Offer Up My Pain, and Pray

...I hear something.

What was that noise?

It hurts.

His body ached.

All over.

“...Urgh.”

A voice.

Was it his?

“Ahh...”

He tried to speak again.

It’s mine.

I knew it.

It apparently was his voice.

Which meant...

“I’m... still... a... live...?”

Where is this?

It was dark. Almost pitch black. Almost. Not completely.

Still, it hurt. His body ached. That wasn’t all. It was more than just pain.

What was it?

Was he numb?

What was going on?

He didn’t know. He couldn’t even figure out what kind of position he was in.

He wasn’t standing. Wasn’t sitting, either. Did that mean he was lying down? He was on his side. Not lying on his back, or his front.

His left side was probably on the bottom. Was that why? The flow of blood was cut off, so he felt numb. Especially in his left arm. He couldn’t even be sure it was still there.

Could he move? He wouldn’t know until he tried to.

Yeah. I’ll try moving.

“Ngh... Nguh...”

He could move his right arm, somewhat. But even the slightest movement hurt like hell, so he didn’t really want to.

He wanted to just stay put.

“...I can’t...”

He couldn’t afford to do that.

Try things out one by one.

He tested his fingers, wrists, elbows, and shoulders. They moved, to a degree. On his right arm, the one not underneath him, at least. But was he tied up? He was probably bound at the wrists. His arms were behind him, tied with rope or something similar.

“...My feet, too...?”

It looked like his ankles were bound the same way.

He had a feeling it wasn’t good for him to have been lying on his left side for so long. He was already exhausted, and couldn’t feel anything. Not just in his left arm, but in his left leg, too.

He tried to get onto his back. He just needed to roll to the right. That was all it would take, but he couldn’t seem to do it.

“Fina... lly...”

With great strain, he managed it. His bound hands were underneath his body now, which was really uncomfortable. The numbness subsided, and pain grew in its place. Numbness or pain. Which was better? Both were unpleasant.

“This is tough...”

Well, he couldn’t complain. He was alive.

That was a spot of good luck within bad luck, you know?

He had thought he was about to die.

It wouldn’t have been strange if he had. That’s what the situation was like. He still half-suspected he was actually dead. But if he was, he shouldn’t be able to think like this, so he had to still be among the living.

Where was this? The place had a ceiling. There were walls to his left and on the side his head was pointing towards. There were bars on his right, and those lightworm things were fluttering through the air on the other side.

One of the lightworms came in through the bars. It leisurely circled around the ceiling.

Was this a jail, or something like that? It might be. It was like he was in solitary confinement.

“This’s... bad...”

The shoes he’d been wearing were gone. He was barefoot. It wasn’t just his shoes. He had no clothes, either. All that he had left was his underwear.

That they might take everything he had on him had been within the realm of expectations. He’d even prepared for this eventuality. He’d hidden thin razors all over his clothes, and in the soles of his boots. Had they seen through that? Or had they just stripped him as a matter of course? Either way, this was maybe the third worst outcome he had imagined.

The worst was him dying, obviously. The goblins killing him. He’d managed to avoid that, apparently. For now, at least.

The next worst was not being killed outright, but close to it, and left in no state to do anything. It looked like it wasn’t that bad.

The next to next worst was being taken captive, with nothing on him that he could use. Basically, the exact situation he found himself in now.

Where was this? Inside Ahsvasin? What if it was outside? That would be a problem.

Was there no way to confirm he was inside Ahsvasin? The lightworms. The first place he’d seen them was in the underground gardens in front of Ahsvasin. There were lightworms here, too. This jail cell was inside Ahsvasin. That’s what he wanted to assume, but it was no more than an optimistic assumption on his part.

He shouldn’t make his move yet. He had to wait. Wait? For what?

Until he could be confident that, whatever else had happened, he had managed to make it inside Ahsvasin.

Would waiting bring him any certainty? He might wait only to be tortured, then killed. No, if they meant to kill him, they’d have done it already. That was one way to look at it. If it were humans he was dealing with, he’d be more or less sure of it.

But they were goblins. He couldn’t even guess at how goblins thought. They might have had some process that they went through before killing humans they captured inside the New City.

For the moment, he was in pain, unbelievable pain, but he was managing to tolerate it somehow. It could get worse, though. He might lose too much blood, or his wounds might fester, rendering him unconscious. He might die like that.

The spear wounds in his upper right arm, left thigh, and left shoulder were not shallow, after all. His neck hurt pretty bad, too. That was where the goblin had gotten him with that weird tool. His face bothered him, too. They must have dragged him here, because he had suffered a fair number of scrapes and bumps along the way. His nose was either bleeding, or had been but already stopped. Anyway, it was completely stuffed up. He could only breathe through his mouth.

His belly and back were probably hurt pretty bad, too, but he couldn’t tell through all his other suffering. Pain was canceling pain out. No, it would be nice if that was true, but he just couldn’t judge how serious the pain was. It was still there.

I can’t wait — probably.

It was impossible for him to just relax to begin with, but if he was going to keep trying to tolerate the pain and then just die anyway, that was too pathetic. It was hard to claim he had reserves of strength left, but he realized he should probably move while he could. Or rather, that he had no other choice.

He was going to have to rely on the option he’d wanted to resort to the least. What else could he do? He’d already decided on it. He just had to act now.

It was impossible while he was on his back, though, so he rolled back onto his left side once more. His wrists being bound was trouble, but he somehow managed to get into a position that let him feel around his right side with his right hand.

It wasn’t easy. His left shoulder, which was on the bottom, hurt especially badly. His breathing was labored.

It hurts. Why does it hurt so bad? Oh, screw this. I can’t take it anymore. I want to quit. I want to cry, too. I won’t, though. I don’t know. Maybe I am crying. It’s okay to cry. I mean, no one’s looking. I won’t, though.

The nails on both his hands were sharpened, not trimmed.

I didn’t want to do this. Not if I could avoid it. I will, though.

He started scratching his flank with his index finger. Hard. As hard as he possibly could.

No dice, huh? This isn’t going to work. Not like this.

He pinched his skin between his index finger and thumb. He twisted, and twisted harder.

“Ngh...! Guh, guh, guh, nghhh...!”

He wanted to loosen his grip. Obviously, he wouldn’t.

His skin tore.

“Owwww...”

He had a hole in his right side now.

I think it’s large enough to put my finger through. No, looks like it isn’t.

He would have to expand it, then.

You say that like it’s going to be easy.

No one had said anything of the sort. He forcibly widened the hole, and stuffed his index finger in. Under his skin.

Oh, crap. Oh, crap. Oh, crap. I don’t like this. I really don’t. I don’t want to do this.

But he found it.

It was there.

The relic.

The bud-shaped object that Hiyo had implanted in him.

He’d known it would be, though. What good did just knowing that do him? It was nothing to be happy about. He had to pull it out now. He couldn’t grab it with his index finger alone. He’d need his thumb, too. Did he have to hurt himself even more? Yeah. He had no choice.

“Ghhhhhhhhhhhh... Ahh... Urghhhhhhhh...”

It was in. He got his thumb in, and was able to grab the relic. Now he just had to pull it out. That wasn’t hard. Pretty simple, really.

“Auuuuuuugwarghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...!”

Just then, a scream echoed through the room.

What was that? Goblins?

It probably was. He was hearing goblin voices.

And noises. Sounds. Footsteps? Approaching.

Oh, crap. What was he going to do now? The relic. He almost had it. All he had to do was pull it out. Was it okay to do that? Or not? Should he leave it there? But he was bleeding. He had other wounds, too, though. He was already covered in blood. They wouldn’t notice.

The footsteps were pretty close now. Something struck the wall or bars as they approached.

“Oh, geez... I don’t know what to do...!”

He pulled out the relic, holding it in his right hand, and turned to face the bars.

It hurt. Oh, damn, it hurt. His side. Because it was a fresh wound. That had to be making it hurt even more.

It came, striking the bars with a red stick as it did.

The scarred goblin.

It had a number of other goblins in tow. Four? Five of them?

It looked like the thing the scarred goblin was holding was the same weapon from before. The stick had a ring-shaped part on the end that could be detached and thrown so that it would catch the enemy by the neck. Was it like a lasso?

The scarred goblin gave directions to the other goblins with it.

One of the goblins stepped forward and touched the bars. It looked like there was a door there. They were going to unlock and open it.

His eyes stopped on the goblin at the rear. Hold on... Was that even a goblin?

Its skin was awfully pale compared to the other goblins. It looked white, at least under the illumination provided by the lightworms. From a human perspective, goblins had hunched backs, with their heads sticking out in front. But this goblin was different. It stood upright, though it was still about the same height as the others. It had a scrawny, frail build and, in another departure from what was common in goblins, it wore a loose black robe.

The door opened, and the scarred goblin entered.

That white goblin, could it be an ugoth? Wasn’t it a sage?

The scarred goblin walked up to him. It stepped on his head.

“Yee, hee, hee, hee!”

Screw you.

It would be a lie to say Haruhiro wasn’t angry, but he was more interested in the goblin he thought was an ugoth.

The other goblins didn’t enter the cell.

“Hey...!” Haruhiro shouted with everything he had. The ugoth looked at him. If Hiyo wasn’t lying, ugoths understood the human language. He was going to yell something more, but the scarred goblin ground its foot into his head, then raised it up high and—

Huh? What? What is it gonna do? Kick me? Is it gonna kick me?

“Agah...!”

Oh, he felt that one. For a moment, he blanked out. What about the relic? It was fine. He was holding it. It was still in his hand, barely.

Just as he adjusted his grip on the relic, the scarred goblin kicked him again. In the chin this time. If he hadn’t clenched his teeth just in time, he might have bitten his tongue.

His head felt hazy. He had to be careful not to drop the relic. No matter what, he couldn’t lose it. He had to hold on tight. If he dropped it, he was finished.

“Do... you... speak...”

Ugoths were supposed to speak the human language. He wanted it to hear him out.

“Daaaag!”

The scarred goblin struck Haruhiro with that tool. The ring opened, wrapped around his neck, and closed. He couldn’t breathe. It hurt.

“Do you speak the human—”

It was pulling him.

The scarred goblin was trying to drag Haruhiro.

It was no use. He couldn’t talk. All that came out was, “Gah,” and, “Goh.” Was it time?

Should I use the relic now?

The scarred goblin was unrelenting. And strong, too. Haruhiro was bound hand and foot. He couldn’t walk. With his hands tied behind him, he couldn’t even crawl on all fours. The goblin kept dragging him like that. Oh, crap. Forget if that goblin was an ugoth or not. He couldn’t breathe. Was he going to pass out? Or, worse yet, die?

The scarred goblin didn’t stop once he was out of the cell. It kept dragging Haruhiro. How far was it planning to take him?

If that’s how it’s going to be, I’ll use the relic.

No — wait.

The scarred goblin was trying to take Haruhiro somewhere. With an ugoth. Ugoths supposedly served the mogado. If Hiyo wasn’t lying. What did that mean?

“Uagh, gah, guhh...”

It hurts, damn it. I can’t breathe. I’m suffocating here. You’re killing me.

The scarred goblin kept dragging Haruhiro. Where was it trying to take him? It had chosen not to kill him.

Right. Yes, this hurt, and he was suffering, but Haruhiro wasn’t dead yet. They’d taken him down easily in the underground garden. This had to be deliberate, right? The scarred goblin was holding back in some way. Maybe it was dragging Haruhiro in a way that wouldn’t knock him out.

Where was it trying to take Haruhiro?

To the mogado, perhaps? If so...

“Nguh, wah, gagh, augh...”

Oh, shut up.

His voice kept leaking out on its own. He couldn’t stop it. He was suffering. Was the scarred goblin really holding back? Maybe not. Wasn’t it just dragging him as hard as it could? Like if he died, he died, and it’d deal with that if it happened?

Whatever the case, it was treating him terribly. Was this any way to treat a person? It was beyond barbaric. In the end, it was just a goblin. He’d been wrong to expect better of it. What had he been hoping for? Nothing. It hurt. He couldn’t breathe. It felt like he was drowning. Drowning as it dragged him.

I can’t take it. There’s no way. I’m seriously done for.

He was probably already way past his limits. He was only clinging to consciousness by complaining inside his head like this. Oh, and by insulting them. Hating them. Cursing them. Why should he have to go through this? What had he ever done to deserve this? Had he done anything to deserve this sort of punishment?

Oh, right, I did kill goblins, huh?

He’d apparently killed a whole lot of them before losing his memory, too.

Maybe he was in no position to complain. If this was the goblins’ revenge, they might be reasonably justified.

It made him want to give up.

Not to argue that it was all a matter of determination, but if he lost his will at a time like this, he was done for. No matter how ugly he made it look, he had to keep clinging to life. There was no way he could endure without that feeling.

It’s hopeless. This is meaningless. I should stop trying to endure.

I just want to relax.

If I have to die, make it quick.

As quick as you can.

Could you just let me die already?

He was on the verge. He wanted to die. He couldn’t die on his own, and wasn’t going to fade away just yet, so he silently pleaded for them to end him. If this slow, hopeless dying of his went one step further, then with that one misstep he would give up on survival. Was he stopping himself just short of that? Or not? No, he must have been. Because Haruhiro still had the relic in his hand. That proved it.

All of a sudden, instead of being dragged, Haruhiro was thrown forward, and rolled sideways. It wasn’t clear if it happened just before that, at the same time, or just after, but the ring around his neck came loose.

His throat ached, but breathing became easier. The pain as he breathed in and out was intense. Even so, he took in all the air he could. Though he coughed and felt like he was going to puke, the oxygen was rapidly spreading through his body. He could feel it.

His face was a mess of tears, blood, saliva, and who knew what else. He had no idea what was going on. He couldn’t see very well, and he couldn’t smell a thing. He was in so much pain that nothing made sense.

“Heah! Mogado! Gwagajin!”

It was the scarred goblin’s voice. Mogado. Gwagajin.

The goblin king. The Mogado. Mogado Gwagajin.

Could it be that this was the royal chamber, or something like that?

“Mogado!”

“Gwagajin!”

“Mogado, Gwagajin!”

“Heah! Mogado! Heah!”

“Mogado! Gwagajin!”

The goblins repeated the call. There was no doubt about it.

Haruhiro blinked repeatedly. He wanted to do something about his blurry vision.

Little by little, his sight returned to him. Goblins.

There were so many goblins.

Around Haruhiro and the scarred goblin, the mass of goblins formed a circle ten or even twenty bodies deep.

It was pretty bright. Was it lightworms? No. The light was shining down from above. This was sunlight, wasn’t it? There was a skylight. Was it daytime now? It looked like it.

Where was Mogado Gwagajin?

There.

About ten meters away, there was some sort of scaffold or tower. It was golden. Up on top, there was... a human? Was that a human? It couldn’t be. It was a goblin that wore fine clothes of red, blue, and white fabric, like a high-ranking human might. He held a red staff, and had a crown on his head. That had to be the Mogado. The goblins’ king.

Mogado Gwagajin.

Beneath the golden tower were white goblins in black robes. It was more than one, but how many of them were there? Four of them? There were four ugoths.

“Heah! Mogado! Gwagajin!”

“Mogado! Mogado!”

“Gwagajin! Heah! Mogado Gwagajin!”

The goblins wouldn’t stop cheering. Some stamped in time with the cries, while others beat their chests. The goblins were excited. Even the scarred goblin next to Haruhiro was swinging its tool around, crying its master’s name.

The four ugoths just stood there. Mogado Gwagajin, up on his golden tower, sat there on some sort of chair, not moving in the slightest. He was like an ornament. Was that a living goblin? Or was that a model made to resemble the goblin mogado? No.

He was real.

Mogado Gwagajin raised his hi’irogane staff.

The moment he did, the goblins grew even noisier.

Should I wait? Do I keep waiting? Or act now?

Don’t stall.

Don’t rush.

Both seemed like they were right. Perhaps both were wrong.

It was only a feeling. There was no logic to it. Haruhiro had to acknowledge that.

My head’s not working. It’s no good. I can’t think straight.

Haruhiro pressed down on the bottom part of the bud-shaped relic. It took more than a little strength to push it inwards. He gave it all he had.

Work. Please. I’m begging you. All I can do is pray now.

The relic began vibrating. It seemed like it had activated. Haruhiro tossed it. His hands were bound behind him, so he couldn’t see it, and it was too noisy for him to hear it hit the floor.

This is going to be all right, right? It’s working, right?

There was a loud twoooooooooooooong, making the goblins look up, and they gulped or screeched as they jumped away.

Haruhiro turned his head to look behind him. He had been told what would happen, but he hadn’t been given an actual demonstration of the relic working, so he stared in mute amazement for a moment. They couldn’t afford to test it. These relics were one-use items, and came in a set. When you activated one, it triggered the other, too.

He could only describe what he was seeing as wondrous. There was an oblong hole in space, maybe the size of a door left half-open. On the other side of it was another place entirely. It was connected to the ruins in the Old City.

One of the relics was implanted in Haruhiro’s right flank.

Hiyo was carrying the other.

Ideally, he would have gotten into Ahsvasin without being captured. That was what Haruhiro had been trying to do, but he’d failed.

The next best thing was to get in as far as he could, then use the relic. That, or to use it when he was taken prisoner.

Kiichi should have let their comrades know he’d been captured. They would be waiting for this to happen at any moment.

Kuzaku was the first to leap through to this side.

“Hoo-rahhhhh...!”

Kuzaku bellowed like an idiot, and sent the scarred goblin flying, then swung his large katana around, intimidating the goblins.

“Out of the way! Now! You wanna die? Gwarrrgh?!”

What are you, some kind of thug?

Haruhiro wanted to poke fun at him. Kuzaku was a sight for sore eyes. It was a little embarrassing to admit that. Besides, he didn’t have time to be relieved.

“Haru...!”

Next came Merry, then Setora and Kiichi at about the same time.

Merry had likely already come up with multiple possible scenarios, and decided what to do in each of them. Her eyes widened as she spotted Haruhiro, and she immediately made the sign of the hexagram.

“O light! May Lumiaris’ divine protection be upon you... Sacrament!”

Oh, this light was a genuine miracle. Honestly, Haruhiro had been on the verge of death. He wouldn’t have lasted much longer. It had felt like he was already half dead. The pain that had made him think dying would be easier, that hopeless suffering, rapidly faded, and was gone entirely in no time.

Kiichi made skillful use of a small blade to cut the ropes binding Haruhiro’s hands and feet.

Setora spun her spear around, striking a goblin that was still nearby. She threw the dagger she kept at her waist to Haruhiro.

“Haruhiro!”

“Right!”

It bugged him a bit that he was wearing nothing but his underwear, but he didn’t have time to complain. Haruhiro took the dagger and stood up, looking at Mogado Gwagajin. He was still on top of the golden tower. He hadn’t moved. Neither had the ugoths.

Right after Neal and Hiyo dove over to this side, the hole in space created by the relic shrank, made a bizarre screeching noise, and then vanished without a trace.

There was no turning back.

Even for Hiyo, the one who had come up with the plan, this was an all-or-nothing gamble.

“Hear me, wise ugoth!”

Still, it was hard to believe she could sound so dignified.

“I offer a humble proposal to His Majesty, the brave and glorious Mogado Gwagajin!”

It didn’t change the weird getup she was in, but as far as the goblins were concerned she was just another human. They wouldn’t see anything strange about the way she dressed. Hiyo stepped forward without hesitation, spreading her arms wide, thrusting her chest out, and looking up at Mogado Gwagajin.

The goblins stared at Hiyo, like they were thinking, What? What’s going on? What’s with that human woman? The four ugoths looked artificial, and it was hard to figure them out, but they turned their eyes to Hiyo, and seemed to be listening.

“What a hero,” Neal muttered. He was presumably talking about Haruhiro, but Haruhiro could only assume he was being insincere.

“Wise ugoths! I beseech you! Please, convey our intentions to His Majesty, Mogado Gwagajin!”

Hiyo raised her voice further. But more than that, she took a step or two forward.

“We do not seek further conflict with the goblin race! We wish to forge peace with your people!”

Without taking his eyes off Hiyo, he shouted something like, “Rah! Dashah!” Probably to the ugoths at the bottom of the tower. Haruhiro didn’t know for sure, but assumed it meant, What is that human saying?

One of the ugoths looked up at Mogado Gwagajin and began to speak. Haruhiro couldn’t make it out over the babbling of the other goblins. It seemed Mogado Gwagajin couldn’t, either, because he shouted and struck the base of his staff against the floor of the golden tower in anger. That was probably a Silence! The goblins all shut up.

Haruhiro weaved between the goblins, already closing in on the golden tower. He was using Stealth, so no one noticed him.

The goblins swarmed around the golden tower, surrounding Hiyo and the rest of the group. The four ugoths were standing at the four corners of the tower.

There was a five- to six-meter space between the tower and the wall. Haruhiro made it there. Mogado Gwagajin must have climbed up and down here. There was a ladder set up.

Mogado Gwagajin and the ugoths were still discussing something.

Haruhiro climbed the ladder.

The golden tower was quite impressive. It looked like the scaffolding was made of metal. Though the copious use of gold decorations might not have been tasteful or pleasing to the eye, there were powerful-looking patterns carved into it, and it was clear it had been carefully constructed.

Haruhiro reached the top of the tower.

Mogado Gwagajin sat right in front of his eyes. There was a small chair here, but the goblin was basically straddling it. He really was big for a goblin. Even if you took away his hi’irogane crown, he was easily over 150 centimeters tall. Thanks to that, Haruhiro was able to hide behind him if he kept his posture low.

Looking down from the golden tower, it finally hit him how large this room was, and just how many goblins there were.

This space, which was presumably Mogado Gwagajin’s audience hall, was not square, but a round-ish shape more than thirty meters across. The ceiling was pretty high, too. It was five, maybe six meters high? There were countless ovular skylights. It looked like they had glass in them.

There were no less than a thousand goblins in the hall. Maybe double that.

Near the golden tower, there were goblins with hi’irogane equipment. The close associates of Mogado Gwagajin that Barbara-sensei had called the Hundred.

With this many goblins surrounding them, Hiyo, Kuzaku, and the others looked so small and insignificant. If Mogado Gwagajin gave the order, the goblins would all descend on the humans. No matter how good of a fight the humans put up, they would take maybe a hundred goblins with them at best. Even if they slaughtered two or three hundred, it was unlikely they could escape from this hall.

This was life and death for all of them.

He didn’t like it, but their lives depended on Hiyo’s speech.

“Mogado Gwagajin!”

Hiyo pulled a sword from her bag. It was far too long to possibly fit in there. But what was more important, at least to the goblins, was the fact it was made of hi’irogane.

“I have brought the sword of your right hand, the Viceroy, Mod Bogg! We have collected many other pieces of hi’irogane equipment, too! We will return them to you as proof of our friendship!”

“Dasshah!” Mogado Gwagajin shouted.

The ugoths were saying something.

Haruhiro could grapple Mogado Gwagajin at any time. He could probably even kill him. But that was a last resort.

“I am sure His Majesty the great Mogado Gwagajin and his wise ugoths must already know this, but we once formed a secret pact with the goblin race, and chose to take the path of mutual prosperity!”

The ugoths were translating what Hiyo said for Mogado Gwagajin.

“It has been a long time since that promise ceased to be upheld, but we are confident that we can cooperate with the goblin race! It is unquestionable that, by joining hands with us, the goblin race will profit greatly—”

Mogado Gwagajin pointed his staff at Hiyo. He was likely ordering her to be silent. Hiyo seemed to take it that way, and closed her mouth.

The ugoths translated Hiyo’s statement for Mogado Gwagajin. Mogado Gwagajin nodded, then nodded again. His interpreters hadn’t been able to keep up. Was that why Mogado Gwagajin had silenced Hiyo in the middle? Was that all?

The ugoth finished translating.

Mogado Gwagajin slammed his staff against the floor of the golden tower.

There was something ominous about it.

When he sensed that, Haruhiro was already moving.

Mogado Gwagajin was probably about to give the goblins an order. Something along the lines of, Kill all the humans, maybe. Haruhiro had to stop him. There was no other way.

“Keah—”

Mogado Gwagajin was about to shout something, then turned to look behind him, surprising Haruhiro more than a little. Had he noticed him?

He’d detected Haruhiro? This goblin mogado was special.

Because he was shocked by it, his methods got sloppy, or rough rather, but he grabbed Mogado Gwagajin and held a dagger to his throat. Mogado Gwagajin was big for a goblin, but Haruhiro was still bigger. The goblin seemed tough, but if he showed any sign of resistance, Haruhiro wouldn’t hesitate to act. What would happen if he killed Mogado Gwagajin here? It was a shame he didn’t have time to think that through, but he had no choice. This was his only option.

“Fuuungh... Fungh... Fuuumh...”

Mogado Gwagajin was overwhelmed with regret. He snorted angrily, ground his teeth, and glared at Haruhiro with a look of incredible rage on his face.

The goblins in the hall were completely silent. They must have believed that one peep out of them could spell the death of their master.

“S-Stop! Don’t!” One of the ugoths at the bottom of the golden tower shouted.

“We want you to hear everything we have to say. Tell Gwagajin that,” Haruhiro said, and the ugoth started translating.

Mogado Gwagajin simply grit his teeth, not responding.

I’d say it’s fifty-fifty, Haruhiro thought. He wasn’t thinking calmly. His heart was racing, and his legs felt a little weak. His hand quivered with fear. Thinking he had a fifty-fifty chance of this working was just a way to try to feign calm.

Mogado Gwagajin might say, Just kill them. In that case, Haruhiro would immediately end his life. If even one of them could make it out of the ensuing chaos alive, they’d be doing well.

Or perhaps he might come to the negotiating table. That, or pretend to, then try to escape his current predicament.

How was this fifty-fifty again?

“Alterna!”

Hiyo was desperate, too. Her tone and expression were both tense in a way he hadn’t seen from her before. He couldn’t imagine she was putting on an act.

“O Mogado Gwagajin! We are prepared to hand Alterna over to the goblin race once more!”

Haruhiro nearly let out a “Whuh?” He was super confused. It was tough to keep it from showing.

Hand over Alterna... Wait, what?

What the hell?

No one told me about this.