My planet is infested with Goblins

For several days after the fleet departed, Noah continued living in the Aelwyn Estate as though his parents might return at any moment.

He still woke before sunrise expecting to hear the sound of his father crossing the training courtyard, and he sometimes glanced toward the garden paths, hoping to see his mother walking beneath one of her transparent divine umbrellas.

Their rooms remained untouched, their belongings exactly where they had left them, and the servants continued preparing meals according to the household’s usual schedule.

Yet every passing day made the silence more difficult to ignore. The estate had once seemed alive with conversations, footsteps, laughter, and the constant movement of officials.

Now its vast halls carried every sound too clearly, making Noah feel as though the building itself had become hollow.

The disappearance of his parents had not thrown House Aelwyn into chaos. The clan was too ancient and too powerful to depend upon two people, regardless of how important those people might be.

Administrators continued managing the family’s territories, military officers still arrived with sealed reports, and clan representatives regularly crossed the estate grounds on their way to meetings Noah was not permitted to attend. Everything continued moving with cold efficiency. Only Noah’s small world had stopped.

A week after the departure, an elderly man named Steward Corvin visited Noah in the estate library. Corvin had served the Aelwyn family for more than a century, though he looked no older than sixty. His white hair was combed neatly behind his head, and he wore a dark formal coat bearing the silver tree crest of the clan.

Noah had seen him many times before, usually standing beside his father during ceremonies or directing the household staff, but the steward had rarely spoken to him directly.

"Young Master," Corvin said after bowing, "the arrangements for your residence have been completed."

Noah looked up from the history book lying open before him. "My residence?"

"The apartment where you will live while completing your education."

Noah stared at him, uncertain whether he had heard correctly. "I already have a residence."

Corvin’s expression did not change. "You currently live in the main estate. Under ordinary circumstances, direct descendants remain here until the age of ten. After that, they are expected to reside independently unless they have already awakened their Planet Seed or assumed an official clan position."

"My parents never said I had to leave."

"They intended to explain the tradition themselves. Their departure made that impossible."

Noah closed the book. "Can’t I stay until they come back?"

The steward remained silent for a moment before answering carefully. "No date has been set for their return."

The words were simple, but they settled heavily inside Noah’s chest.

Corvin continued in the same measured tone. "The Aelwyn family has followed this practice for generations. Those born into power must understand the lives of ordinary citizens before they are permitted to command them. Wealth can provide comfort, but too much comfort can separate a person from reality. Your grandfather lived in a mining settlement during his youth. Your father spent several years in a military district using no title beyond his given name. You will live near your school."

Noah frowned. "By myself?"

"Yes."

"I’m twelve."

"You are an Aelwyn."

"That doesn’t make me older."

For the first time, Corvin’s expression softened slightly. "No, Young Master. It does not. But it means many people will one day expect more from you than they would from others."

Noah disliked the answer. It sounded like something adults said when they had already made a decision and wanted a child to believe he had been given an explanation.

The apartment was located in the eastern residential district of Astralis, only a short transit ride from Noah’s preparatory school. It occupied the twenty-third floor of a narrow stone-and-glass building surrounded by grocery stalls, restaurants, repair shops, and ordinary homes. Compared with the Aelwyn Estate, the apartment was impossibly small. The entire living room could have fit inside one of the estate’s guest chambers, and the kitchen was little more than a counter, a heating plate, a preservation cabinet, and a narrow sink. The bedroom contained a single bed, a wardrobe, and a desk positioned beneath the window. There was also a small washing alcove and a balcony barely large enough for two people to stand side by side.

When Corvin first showed Noah the apartment, Noah walked from one end to the other in less than a minute.

"This is all of it?" he asked.

"This is more than what many students receive."

"There isn’t even a training room."

"There is a public training hall three streets away."

"No private library?"

"The district library is within walking distance."

"No servants?"

"No."

Noah turned slowly toward him. "Who prepares the food?"

"You do."

"Who cleans?"

"You do."

"Who washes the clothes?"

"You do."

"What exactly does the clan do?"

Corvin placed a small tablet on the kitchen counter. "House Aelwyn will pay your school fees, medical expenses, and basic housing costs. You will also receive a fixed monthly allowance sufficient for food, transportation, study materials, and reasonable personal expenses. Additional money will not be provided unless there is a genuine emergency."

"What if I spend it all?"

"Then you will learn the importance of planning."

Noah stared at the tablet as though it had personally betrayed him.

Before leaving, Corvin handed him three documents. The first contained the apartment rules. The second listed emergency contacts. The third was a guide titled Practical Household Management for Young Aristocrats.

Noah read the title twice.

"Is this a joke?"

"No."

"It sounds like one."

"The previous edition was titled How Not to Starve After Leaving the Estate."

Noah looked up.

Corvin’s face remained perfectly serious.

It took Noah several seconds to realize the steward was joking.

That evening, after Corvin departed, Noah sat alone in the middle of the apartment and listened to the unfamiliar sounds coming through the walls. Somewhere nearby, a family argued about dinner. Children ran through the corridor outside, and a transport engine hummed far below the balcony. In the estate, silence had felt enormous and oppressive. Here, silence barely existed. The building breathed with the lives of hundreds of strangers.

Noah unpacked slowly. He had been allowed to bring clothes, school materials, several books, and a few personal belongings. The black identity card and bronze key were placed inside a small locked drawer beneath his desk. He checked the lock three times before finally stepping away.

His first attempt at preparing dinner ended with smoke filling the kitchen.

The instructions on the food package had seemed simple enough, but Noah had assumed that doubling the heat would reduce the cooking time by half. Instead, the bottom of the pan turned black while the center remained nearly frozen. He opened the balcony door and waved a towel beneath the smoke detector until it stopped screaming.

He ate bread and preserved fruit that night.

The following morning, he overslept because no attendant entered his room to open the curtains. He arrived at school with his uniform wrinkled, his hair uncombed, and breakfast consisting of a sweet bun purchased from a street vendor. None of his classmates recognized the significance of the silver cufflink he had forgotten to remove from his formal shirt, nor did anyone realize that the boy quietly taking a seat near the back of the classroom belonged to one of the most influential families in the God Civilization.

Noah had always attended school without publicly using his clan identity. His enrollment documents were protected, and teachers had been instructed to treat him like any other student. It was another Aelwyn tradition. Children of the family were expected to develop friendships and rivalries before titles and political interests corrupted every interaction.

At first, Noah had thought the rule unnecessary. Now he understood its value.

At school, no one bowed to him.

No one called him Young Master.

No one measured every word before speaking.

His classmates complained when he borrowed pens without returning them, laughed when he gave the wrong answer, and pushed him aside when he blocked the hallway. Their honesty sometimes irritated him, but it also gave him something the estate never could.

His closest classmate was a broad-faced boy named Daren Holt, whose father repaired public transport engines. Daren had strong opinions about nearly everything despite rarely understanding the subjects he discussed. He believed all divine beasts could be tamed with enough food, that the school cafeteria secretly used recycled monster meat, and that every great noble clan possessed hidden weapons capable of destroying entire galaxies.

"The Aelwyns definitely have one," Daren declared during lunch one afternoon.

Noah paused with his spoon halfway to his mouth. "Have what?"

"A galaxy weapon."

"That sounds impractical."

Daren leaned across the table. "That’s what they want people to think."

"Who are ’they’?"

"The Aelwyns."

Noah glanced down at his soup. "Maybe they just don’t have one."

"They contributed nearly a trillion Faith Points to the northern defense network last year. No family spends that much unless they’re hiding something."

"You watched too many conspiracy broadcasts."

"You don’t watch enough."

Another student sitting beside them laughed. "Daren thinks the Aelwyn Clan controls the weather in three star regions."

"Four," Daren corrected.

Noah said nothing more. Conversations like that reminded him how distant the great clans seemed to ordinary people. House Aelwyn appeared in textbooks, military reports, economic broadcasts, and historical documentaries. Its members governed worlds and commanded armies. To Noah’s classmates, the clan was almost mythical.

To Noah, it was the family that sent him an allowance every month and never asked whether he felt lonely.

The first month in the apartment was the most difficult. Noah burned meals, ruined two shirts by mixing the wrong cleansing agents, and spent nearly half his allowance during the first week because he failed to distinguish between essential expenses and things he merely wanted. By the twenty-third day, he had so little money remaining that he survived on rice, vegetables, eggs, and whatever discounted food the nearby market sold before closing.

He never asked the clan for help.

Partly because Corvin had warned him that no additional funds would come, but mostly because Noah refused to admit defeat.

During the second month, he created a budget. During the third, he learned to cook five basic meals without setting off the smoke alarm. By the sixth, he could clean the apartment, wash his clothes, complete his schoolwork, and still find enough time to practice with his wooden sword at the public training hall.

Life settled into a routine.

Wake before sunrise. Prepare breakfast. Attend school. Study. Shop for food. Train. Clean. Sleep.

The routine was not exciting, but it gave structure to days that might otherwise have been consumed by questions about his parents.

Nearly two years passed.

Noah grew taller. His face lost some of its childhood softness, and the black hair that his mother once brushed into place became permanently untidy. He developed a habit of checking prices before ordering anything and learned to repair small household problems rather than paying someone else. The apartment gradually became less temporary. Books filled the shelves. Training clothes hung from hooks near the door.

Notes about school assignments and expenses covered the wall above his desk.

Only the locked drawer remained unchanged.

Every few weeks, Noah opened it to make sure the card and key were still there. He never attempted to use them. His father’s instructions had been clear.

When you are old enough to awaken your Planet Seed, go to Argent Crown Bank.

Until then, the gift remained a mystery.

News about the conflict at the Aelwyn ancestral territory arrived only in fragments. Public broadcasts described border disputes, fleet movements, and negotiations between the great aristocratic families, but the reports were often vague. Sometimes the Aelwyn Clan announced a victory. Other times, entire sectors vanished from the news for months beneath claims of strategic confidentiality.

Noah searched for his parents’ names whenever new reports appeared.

He found almost nothing.

One evening, while eating dinner in front of the living-room projection screen, Noah watched a reporter standing before the image of a burning world.

"The Aelwyn Fifth Fleet has successfully prevented Valerius forces from entering the Caerwyn System," the woman announced.

"Clan representatives confirmed that several high-ranking planetary gods participated in the defense, though no complete list of casualties has been released."

Images of silver ships crossing a dark battlefield appeared behind her. Beams of divine light tore through the void while enormous planetary projections surrounded distant stars like ghostly worlds.

Noah set down his chopsticks.

"Among the commanders believed to be present is Lord Cassian Aelwyn, governor of the eastern Aelwyn ancestral territories. Unconfirmed reports also suggest that Lord Alaric Aelwyn may have taken direct command of several defensive fleets."

Noah leaned closer to the projection.

The report ended without showing his father’s face.

That was the closest he had come to receiving news in more than a year.

He remained seated long after the broadcast moved on to economic reports and academy announcements. The food in front of him grew cold, but he hardly noticed.

At school the next day, everyone was talking about the battle.

"They say House Aelwyn destroyed three planetary armies," Daren said excitedly. "My father says the cost of transport crystals will rise because of the fighting."

Noah opened his textbook. "Your father says that every month."

"This time he’s right."

"Maybe."

Daren studied him. "You’re unusually quiet."

"I’m always quiet."

"No, you’re usually pretending to be quiet while judging everyone."

Noah looked at him.

Daren pointed triumphantly. "That expression proves it."

Despite himself, Noah smiled.

The ordinary rhythm of school helped keep his worries under control. There were examinations to pass, training rankings to maintain, and endless lessons about Planet Seeds, faith development, ecological balance, divine authority, and the history of planetary civilization.

Every child born within the God Civilization possessed the potential to awaken a Planet Seed, but potential did not guarantee success. During awakening, the seed would form a connection with an unclaimed world beyond the established territories. That world would become the foundation of the student’s path toward godhood.

The species that appeared upon the world was determined by forces even the greatest scholars did not completely understand. Some students awakened worlds inhabited by humans, elves, or dwarves. Others received beasts, insects, aquatic life, or strange species with little apparent potential. Planetary environment, resources, geography, and initial population also varied.

No two awakenings were identical.

After awakening, the young god would guide the development of that world, receive Faith Points from its inhabitants, strengthen the planet, and eventually compete for resources and territory against other gods.

The strongest planetary civilizations could produce armies capable of conquering star systems.

The weakest collapsed before their gods even graduated.

Noah had studied those facts for years, but as his own awakening approached, they began to feel less like school material and more like a judgment waiting beyond the horizon.

Three days before the end of the school term, their instructor entered the classroom carrying a stack of silver envelopes.

The room immediately fell silent.

Instructor Marek was a thin man with sharp features and the unfortunate habit of speaking as though every sentence were part of a military briefing. He placed the envelopes on his desk and looked across the students.

"The Planet Seed Awakening Ceremony will take place next week."

Excited whispers spread through the room.

Marek struck the desk once with his pointer.

"Silence."

The whispers ended.

"Each envelope contains your assigned ceremony time, preparation requirements, and identity clearance. Attendance is mandatory. Late arrivals will not be admitted once the awakening chambers are sealed."

He began calling names.

One by one, students approached the desk to receive their envelopes.

Some returned to their seats smiling. Others immediately opened the instructions and began reading. Daren held his envelope against the light as though expecting to discover hidden information inside.

When Noah’s name was called, he walked forward and accepted the silver envelope with both hands.

The moment it touched his fingers, his thoughts returned to the black card and bronze key hidden inside his apartment.

The time had finally come.

After school, Noah took the longer route home. He crossed crowded market streets, passed the public training hall, and walked beneath elevated transit lines carrying thousands of citizens between the floating districts. Astralis moved around him with its usual impossible scale. Divine towers pierced the clouds. Small artificial suns illuminated public gardens. Priests collected Faith Point donations outside shrines dedicated to famous gods, while merchants advertised resources for newly awakened planets.

For most of his life, Noah had seen those things without truly understanding that he would soon become part of the world they represented.

When Noah returned to his apartment, he carefully placed the silver awakening envelope upon his desk before unlocking the small drawer beneath it.

Resting inside were the two objects his father had entrusted to him nearly two years ago: a black identity verification card and an aged bronze key engraved with the silver tree of House Aelwyn. Time had not dulled either object. The metal still carried a faint warmth beneath his fingertips, while the card’s polished surface reflected the evening lights of Astralis.

For years, the two items had been nothing more than reminders of his parents’ departure. He had resisted the temptation to visit Argent Crown Bank countless times, honoring his father’s single instruction to wait until the eve of his Planet Seed Awakening. Now, with the ceremony only days away, that promise had finally reached its end.

His father’s calm voice echoed through his memory.

"Inside that vault is not wealth, nor a weapon. It is a gift prepared specifically for the world you will one day create."

His mother had smiled after those words, though there had been unmistakable concern hidden behind her eyes.

"Whatever species answers your Planet Seed, never judge them by how they first appear. Great civilizations are not born. They are built."

At the time, Noah had assumed they were simply trying to comfort him before their departure. Only now did he wonder if those words had been meant as a warning.

Unable to resist his curiosity any longer, he searched the public archives for everything he could find about Argent Crown Bank’s private vault services. Most of the information concerned ordinary inheritance vaults, family treasures, or Faith Point reserves, but buried among the historical records was a brief passage describing a class of deposits so rare that most employees would never encounter one during their entire careers.

Planetary Origin Items.

Unlike ordinary artifacts, these treasures could only be fused with a Planet Seed during the brief moment of awakening. Once bound to a newborn world, they became part of the planet’s very foundation, permanently influencing its future. Some altered climates. Others reshaped geography. The rarest were said to affect the destiny of civilizations themselves.

No examples were listed.

The archives merely stated that every known Planetary Origin Item was considered priceless.

Noah slowly lowered the projection.

Could that be what his parents had left behind?

His pulse quickened.

House Aelwyn certainly possessed the wealth to acquire treasures beyond imagination, yet his father had never once spoken about riches or power. He had only called it a gift for Noah’s future world.

What kind of Planetary Origin Item would parents choose for their son?

A weapon?

A divine beast?

A legendary resource?

Or something else entirely?

Noah carefully returned the identity card and bronze key to the drawer before immediately taking them back out again. He laughed quietly at himself. Years of waiting had made him overly cautious.

This time, he slipped both objects into the inner pocket of his coat.

Tomorrow, he would walk through the doors of Argent Crown Bank.

Tomorrow, he would discover the inheritance his parents had protected for more than a decade.

He extinguished the apartment lights and stood quietly beside the window overlooking the endless brilliance of Astralis. Far above the floating city, countless stars shimmered beyond the protective barrier of the God Civilization. Somewhere among them waited an untouched planet destined to become his.

And hidden within the vault of Argent Crown Bank was an item that, if the ancient records were true, would forever shape the destiny of the civilization that would one day rise upon it. This is just on exaggeration or is it?

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!