God Agent: All Hail The Great Kobold

Amidst the loud roar that shook the village square, Molu calmly raised the hand holding his half eaten drumstick, and the simple gesture was enough to draw several curious gazes toward him. The noise gradually began to settle as people noticed the fat goblin sitting comfortably on his throne, chewing his food as though the entire spectacle before him had failed to impress him.

Loki’s eyes immediately turned cold when they landed on him.

How dare this fat bastard ruin his moment?

He had finally captured the attention of the entire village, the crowd was roaring his name, and for the first time since his father’s death, he could almost feel the title of Chieftain resting in his hands. Yet Molu sat there with oil on his lips and food in his mouth, looking at him like nothing he had just said mattered.

"Ooh great successor. Why don’t you share with us how you plan to deal with this invaders?" Molu’s voice dripped with mockery, and the casual way he spoke made Loki’s face turn red with anger.

The crowd immediately quieted, their attention shifting between the two candidates, while Varg, who stood behind the podium with both hands resting on his cane, chuckled lightly under his breath. Despite all the shouting, all the cheering and all the talk about bloodlines and legacies, this was the most important question of the day.

The enemy was outside their walls. Their former Chieftain was dead. Whoever became the next leader would not have the luxury of slowly growing into the position. Their first responsibility would be deciding what to do about the kobolds who had already crossed into their territory.

Loki glanced around the square and noticed the expectant expressions directed at him. He straightened his back and rolled his shoulders, refusing to let Molu’s question make him look uncertain.

"It’s just like Grash said, they don’t have numbers. They are trying to scare us so what is there to be afraid of?" Loki hissed as confidence returned to his face. "I’ll just gather our best warriors and lead the search myself! I’ll bring the head of these bloody kobolds and hang them on the gates for all to see!"

He finished with his chin raised, clearly expecting the same deafening roar he had received moments ago, but instead he was met with silence.

The sudden absence of noise was almost painful. A few members of the Mok tribe instinctively began clapping, but their hands slowly stopped when they realized no one else was joining them. Several goblins exchanged uncomfortable glances, while others stared at Loki with expressions of doubt.

Molu burst into laughter so suddenly that the sound echoed across the square, and Crow slowly covered his face with one hand as though he had expected this exact answer.

"Such a fool... He hears people but he never listens," Crow sighed, his voice low but loud enough for everyone nearby to hear.

"You!" Loki stepped forward, fury flashing through his eyes, but Molu finally put down the remains of his food and leaned forward on his throne.

"Supreme warrior Loki. Must you forget that our clan has always held the number advantage against this kobolds and yet they killed your father?"

His voice lost some of its playful mockery as he stared directly into Loki’s eyes. "Are you trying to say you are greater than Chief Grash?"

The question struck the square like a hammer. Loki’s expression immediately changed, and before he could answer, whispers began spreading through the crowd. The people had already been terrified by Grash’s death, but now they were forced to confront the obvious weakness in Loki’s argument.

If Grash, a warrior many considered invincible, had marched against the kobolds with an army and still died, then what exactly made Loki believe that charging out with another group of warriors would guarantee victory?

Loki’s jaw tightened as the whispers grew louder, but Crow was not finished. The hobgoblin slowly lowered his hand from his face, his dull gaze settling on Loki with almost no emotion.

"He disrespects tradition, he thinks himself higher than everyone and is obstinate in his ignorance... Posseses the least achievement amongst the greats but always portrays himself out as one of the greatest. It’s not wonder, his father never kept him close. He knew his brashness would be the end of our Ashmork clan." Crow’s words were delivered calmly, without the need to shout, and that made them cut even deeper.

Many goblins slowly nodded as they remembered Loki’s past failures. He was a monster in individual combat, and no warrior in the village could stand against him in a duel, but leadership was different. Strength could win a fight between two men, but an army required discipline, planning, patience and the ability to listen when others saw dangers you could not.

"What do you expect from a child who has refused to grow up and understand that war is won by an army not one man alone. His only achievement can be found in duels and all his notable attempts to lead an army has always ended in horrible tragedies and now he expects us to actually let him lead the entire colony?" Molu scoffed as he wiped the grease from his mouth with the back of his hand.

This time, the whispers from the crowd became impossible to ignore. More eyes turned toward Loki, but they no longer carried the admiration they had shown him when he first climbed onto the podium. His dream of becoming Chieftain was beginning to collapse before he had even been given the opportunity to properly defend himself.

Loki’s breathing grew heavier as he stared at the crowd. His hands slowly curled into fists, his claws pressing against his palms as he watched the uncertainty on the faces of people who had been cheering for him only minutes ago. Some looked disappointed. Some looked disgusted. Others simply looked afraid.

He wanted to deny everything Molu and Crow had said, but the problem was that their accusations were rooted in truth. Every failed expedition, every reckless command and every unnecessary loss on his record suddenly felt like it had been dragged into the village square and placed before everyone for judgment.

His face twisted with rage until his expression barely looked normal anymore.

"WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ALL ARE?!!!!!!!" Loki roared like a wounded beast, and the sudden explosion of anger startled the crowd into stepping back.

Even Kia’s eyes widened beneath her hood as the pressure from his voice echoed through the square. Molu, however, only smiled.

Loki beat his chest hard as he glared at the crowd with a murderous gaze.

"I AM LOKI, SON OF GRASH AND GRANDSON OF GORESH!!" he screamed, his voice cracking with fury and desperation. "THE TITLE OF CHIEF IS MY HERITAGE! MY FATHER BUILT THIS! THIS IS ALL MINE... EVERYTHING HERE IS MINE!"

The moment those words left his mouth, the atmosphere changed completely. The crowd that had once been intimidated by his strength now stared at him with open discontent. Even several members of the Mok tribe lowered their heads, disturbed by what they had just heard. To them, the Ashmork clan did not belong to Grash alone. It had been built by generations of goblins who had fought, hunted, bled and died to keep the village alive. The idea that Loki believed every person, every wall and every piece of land belonged to him because of his bloodline made many of them look at him differently.

"This selection process was set up by your grandfather to stop incompetent and egotistic fools like you from ever being Cheiftain. Now we can all see he was right!" Molu hissed, his earlier amusement disappearing as he spoke.

The words were the final blow to Loki’s already damaged image, and something inside him finally snapped.

"BASTARD!" Loki exploded forward, the wooden platform beneath his feet cracking as he launched himself toward Molu.

His speed was terrifying, and several people instinctively flinched, but the fat goblin remained seated without even attempting to move. There was no need for him to defend himself.

Before Loki could cross even half the distance between them, thick vines exploded from the ground and wrapped around his waist. His eyes widened as more vines immediately followed, binding his neck, arms and legs before he could tear himself free. The vines tightened with tremendous force and violently drove him into the ground with a loud bang that sent dust scattering across the square.

"Gah!" Loki cried out in pain as his body struck the hard earth.

The crowd fell silent, and only then did several people notice the broken platform behind him. Varg stood there with his cane planted firmly against the ground, his eyes burning with an intense green light as mana slowly faded from the vines surrounding Loki.

"Only words are allowed during the selection, Loki... If your words are insufficient, then maybe it’s because you are insufficient." Varg chuckled in his usual light tone, and the casualness of his voice somehow made the humiliation worse.

The vines immediately loosened, releasing Loki before slithering back into the ground as though they had never existed.

Loki slowly raised his head, and what he saw made his face burn even hotter. Several goblins were staring at him with disgust while others whispered amongst themselves. A few were openly laughing. Some pointed in his direction before quickly lowering their hands whenever his murderous gaze turned toward them. The warrior who had entered the square expecting to claim the position of Chieftain was now lying in the dirt before the entire village.

His hands trembled as he pushed himself back onto his feet. For a brief moment, his eyes locked with Varg’s, and the hatred in them was so intense that even Kia noticed it.

"You old bastard... I’ll make you pay for this... I swear!" Loki growled through clenched teeth. He did not wait for anyone to answer.

Turning away from the podium, he pushed his way into the crowd, shoving aside goblins who were too slow to move from his path as he stormed out of the village square beneath the watchful eyes of hundreds of people.

Behind him, the silence he left behind was heavier than the cheering had ever been.

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