Chapter 94 A Place Where Names Survive (Patreon)

Chapter 94

A Place Where Names Survive

“A-are you perhaps a d-dragon?”

Contrary to Karath’s assumption, T-One was completely serious.

There was no helping it. Root contained too many things that should never have existed within this savage forest.

Through his horn, T-One could share information with other hobgoblins. Even with everything that network had gathered, he had never heard of a place like this.

An enormous stone wall surrounded rows of earthen houses. Huge pottery vessels filled with water stood throughout the village, and orcs used that water for drinking or cleaned themselves with a mysterious substance called soap.

Drainage channels carried dirty water away, leaving the village remarkably clean.

Perhaps because of that cleanliness, the young orcs looked healthy as they ran laughing through the streets.

Children could laugh and play in this hellish primitive land.

When T-One tried to imagine what sort of being could create such an impossible place, his thoughts naturally turned toward creatures known only through legend.

An orc could not possibly wield shamanic arts like that.

The freezer made that conclusion even more convincing. The Grand Chief had said it was created through shamanic power.

T-One had never heard of an orc capable of such things, even after combining everything shared through the hobgoblin network.

Then there was the way the orcs treated their Grand Chief.

Throughout the tour, T-One repeatedly witnessed them praising Karath.

Even he, a hobgoblin who led his own group, did not receive such reverence from other goblins.

“Krahahaha! A dragon? What absurd nonsense!”

“Krahahaha! Our Grand Chief is certainly that magnificent! This hobgoblin knows how to judge an orc, Grand Chief!”

Karath’s advisers burst into booming laughter at the ridiculous misunderstanding.

“Karath is not a dragon. More importantly, do such creatures truly exist? Have any goblins ever seen one? Karath is curious.”

“No one hash seen one.”

T-One shook his head.

That did not prove Karath was not a dragon.

T-One possessed enough intelligence to reach that conclusion, though he did not say it aloud.

“Ahem. Karath is not a dragon, so there is no need to worry. T-One.”

Karath paused.

Every time he used the name T-One, it reminded him of a communications company from his previous life. That also brought another question to mind.

“May Karath ask you something?”

“What do you wish to know?”

“Why do goblins choose names like that?”

Why did they assign names with so little effort?

“Ah. It hash been our tradition since before I was born. I never wondered why. I will ashk.”

T-One used his horn to send the question to the other hobgoblins.

Why do we use numbers like One, Two, Three, and Four as names?

Hm. I never really thought about it.

Perhaps because it is convenient?

That must be it. If everyone had separate names, how would we know which goblin another group was talking about?

Answers began arriving from different directions across the network.

“It seemsh to be because numbered namesh are easy to distinguish. Goblinsh travel in groupsh centred around hobgoblinsh like me. When hobgoblinsh speak with one another, giving every goblin a separate name would become confusing.”

T-One organised the answers and explained them to Karath.

“Would One, Two, and Three not create even more confusion? You said the names represent rank, which means they change whenever someone dies.”

“Goblinsh die so often that thish way seemsh easier. Creating and memorising a new name for someone who may die at any moment ish difficult. That ish what everyone said.”

Karath’s expression hardened.

The orcs around him also fell silent.

Was it merely a question of efficiency?

That was the first explanation that came to Karath’s mind.

In some ways, it sounded remarkably human.

Stories and films from Arnold’s previous life often used similar systems. Secret agents or assassins were identified by numbers, while soldiers in wartime operations addressed one another through numbers or letters.

Yet despite once being human himself, Karath felt disgust before anything else.

“Then do hobgoblins consider the goblins following them nothing more than tools?”

He gradually understood the source of his revulsion.

Orcs were not like that.

Nothing mattered more to an orc than the safety of the tribe.

Orc warriors willingly placed their own lives at risk to protect their settlements.

Karath had changed the orcs, and the union of five tribes had produced a wide variety of individuals. Yet every one of those differences grew from the same foundation.

They all wanted to protect the tribe.

Karath looked at the advisers beside him with open displeasure.

Simple and reckless warriors like Parker and Kaden stood there. So did intelligent orcs like Krog and Dagon, along with meticulous craftsmen like Orga.

Every one of them shared the same goal. They thought and acted to protect the tribe and its people.

In the past, all orcs had pursued that goal in the same rigid way. Karath had merely given them different methods.

After living beside such orcs for sixteen years, hearing that goblins received numbers because they would die anyway sounded revolting.

Arnold would have concealed his emotions.

Information about iron and the hobgoblins’ long-distance communication ability were too valuable. He would have ignored the discomfort and used them to advance the village.

Karath could not do that now.

Share Root with beings who gave such an answer?

At that moment, even sitting in the same room with T-One made anger rise within him.

Karath finally understood why orcs and goblins had always ignored one another.

“Th-that ish too harsh! Toolsh? That ish not true!”

An unfamiliar fury filled Karath’s eyes and pressed down upon T-One.

Since T-One already suspected that Karath might be a dragon, his voice trembled instinctively.

Even so, fear could not silence him when his feelings for the goblins had been insulted.

“Then why give them names like that? You said it yourself. Naming someone who may die at any moment is inconvenient!”

“Th-that ish not what it means!”

T-One shouted desperately, his thoughts descending into confusion.

Why was Karath so angry?

Did the hobgoblins truly consider their followers tools?

T-One sincerely cared for the goblins who followed him: T-Two, T-Three, T-Four, and all the others.

Then what did those feelings mean?

Confusion twisted together with countless other emotions and flowed through his horn into the other hobgoblins.

The horns of hobgoblins did more than transmit words.

They could share emotions and memories as well.

T-One’s feelings and memories spread instantly across the network, plunging every connected hobgoblin into confusion.

All of them were swept into T-One’s turmoil.

“Do you know how horrible it ish when someone precioush dies?”

Memories surged into T-One through the horns.

One hobgoblin had watched an ogre slaughter an entire group of goblins before his eyes.

Another had fled the monsters of the mountains toward the forest’s edge, only to see humans exterminate his kin.

“They are trampled by Horn Boarsh! Pierced by minotaur hornsh! Slaughtered by humansh! Torn apart by ogresh! Do you know how horrible it ish to share every one of those memories?”

T-One screamed as the flood overwhelmed him.

At that moment, he finally understood why goblins used numbers instead of names.

“Do you know how horrible it ish to remember all of it?”

It had never been about convenience.

The numbered names existed to escape the unbearable flood of memories.

Whenever one hobgoblin’s emotions spiralled out of control, grief and memory swept through the entire network.

“If we loshe our mindsh, who will care for these poor children?”

Hobgoblins used their shared information and memories to guide the goblins.

They had a duty to lead their people.

If the flood consumed them, they could no longer fulfil that duty.

In this hellish environment, who would protect the goblins if their leaders lost themselves to grief?

T-One struggled to breathe after screaming at Karath through the torrent of memories.

Karath waited until his breathing began to calm.

“Then create a place where goblins do not have to die.”

His voice had become peaceful again.

“How can anyone create such a place in thish hell?”

T-One had barely regained control before shouting again.

“Karath already did.”

T-One fell silent.

“Karath built this place with his own hands, together with his people.”

Every orc in the room looked proud at his declaration.

Within that atmosphere, Karath extended an offer T-One had never imagined.

“Then what do you say? Will the goblins join Karath?”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

T-One stared at him in shock.

Karath had already understood the truth behind T-One’s answer.

The desperate scream, the grief for his goblins, and the sorrow within eyes that had seemed nearly mad reached both Karath and every orc in the room.

That was why Karath made the proposal.

“Karath is not offering to protect you while you do nothing. Everyone in this alliance performs a role, protects Root, and protects the tribespeople beside them.”

T-One remained silent.

“So Karath offers this. Karath and the others will risk their lives to protect you. In return, the goblins will risk their lives to protect us. If you can do that, Karath will accept you.”

Karath rose from his seat and stepped toward T-One.

“Karath will give every goblin a true name and a place where no one must struggle to forget that name!”

This was no longer an attempt to acquire iron or long-distance communication.

Karath was offering to accept the goblins as genuine members of the tribe, no different from the orcs of Root.