Abnormal (ends with an inverted V)

Life in the tribe is very leisurely. Pika no longer needs to worry about making a living, he just needs to teach on time.

The goblins in the tribe respected it very much. Every few days, Pika would leave the tribe with some food, using the excuse of finding a place to practice magic, and go to a place separated from Canaan.

The hobgoblin told him that since the death of all the priests, the goblin tribe has been shrinking and now has all returned to the mountain.

This is a great thing. Humans on the grassland will be much safer! Pika was relieved. He used magic to avoid the tribe's defense line and traveled a long way to find the silver-haired young man who had already set up a camp.

"So from now on you can move around the grassland without worrying about running into goblins."

The greenskin was very loyal, and even after returning to his hometown, he did not abandon his human companions who had been traveling with him for more than half a month. He brought fruits, dried animal meat and sweet grass roots, and talked endlessly about the things in the tribe.

The silver-haired young man was chewing the fruit gracefully. When he heard the other party's dream movements, he paused for a moment. He had an ominous premonition in his heart: "Black mist?"

"Yes, yes, yes, Pika is so scared! Even the Great Elder has turned into a monster!"

The current Pika could easily tell this dream as a story, but the young man was in no mood to listen to the story. He put the core down, with a cold and stern look in his eyes: "Maybe this is not a dream, everything is——"

The souls of those who died in the black mist would become the property of the black mist. The goblin elder was likely to have become a monster.

Mason swallowed the rest of the sentence. Pica looked at his serious expression and felt uneasy.

"But the tribe is safe, and everyone treats Pika very well. Now that Pika is the high priest, everyone respects him. Even the hobgoblins won't drive him out of the tribe."

If possible, Pica would like to live here until he dies. But when it tells Mason about the dream of black fog, he knows that this place is no longer safe.

"The tribe has its problems, too. According to what you said, the grassland and the mountain were all goblin tribes before, but now that the priest has died, all the goblin tribes outside have retreated back to the mountain. But no matter how much they retreat, the number of goblins will never decrease. How can this mountain accommodate so many goblins?"

"Even if it could accommodate them, the place would be very crowded. When you went up the mountain, you only met the hunting team of your own tribe, but you didn't see other goblins. Including when you went down the mountain, you lived in the tribe for a few days. Have you seen goblins from other tribes?"

Pika froze in shock.

Did it see it? No!

Since it returned to the tribe, it has never seen goblins from other tribes!

"But the big, big, big goblin clearly said that he had consulted the priests of other tribes!"

"And then?"

The young man asked calmly, "Did it tell you the location of those tribes? Did it take you to see the goblins from other tribes? After the goblins discovered that those tribes had lost their priests, those tribes may not exist anymore."

Pica subconsciously resisted this explanation: "Impossible, there are so many goblins, more than the monsters in the Dark Forest! The goblins are endless, even if the big goblins start a war, they can't kill them all!"

"So there must be something else going on."

Mason sighed in his heart. If he had known that there would be trouble here, he would have taken the goblins to other cities. The favor of the Moon Goddess was genuine, so he couldn't possibly do so badly.

But it was useless to think about it right now. Mason sorted out his thoughts and told Pica: "Pay attention to the differences in the tribe when you go back, and tell me later. Be careful not to let other goblins find out."

Pika shuddered when he heard this: "Pika still has to go back..."

"We must find out the source of that nightmare."

Mason is determined to do what he wants. This is not just a matter of storytelling. In the church books he has read, the coming of the black fog is sudden, and no one knows how it came into being. Therefore, how to dispel the black fog has become an unsolved mystery. Humans keep exploring, but they are always in a fog.

But in the pre-Black Mist era, there was actually Black Mist in this isolated goblin tribe. According to history, it would take at least five years for the Black Mist to first appear on the mainland.

Hearing the human's answer, Pica lowered his head and responded sadly. Just as he was about to leave, he heard the young man's voice from behind: "Wait, take this."

It was a cloth-wrapped, unsheathed dagger that gave off an extremely cold feeling the moment it was touched. Pica was somewhat skeptical, and the other party introduced it in detail: "This is my self-defense weapon. Don't be stabbed by it, as it will have negative effects on the person stabbed. Try not to use it unless necessary. Every time you come to see me, you must bring it with you. If it is not purified regularly, it may come back to life."

The small dagger suddenly felt as heavy as a thousand pounds, and Pika even wanted to ask the other party to take it back. But thinking about the danger of returning to the tribe, he gritted his teeth and put the dagger away, and asked hesitantly: "Master, is there anything safer and less dangerous?"

The silver-haired young man thought for a moment, then took out a gold brooch, which made the goblin stare at it. The goblin was salivating and wanted to grab it, but then he heard the young man introduce it.

"This brooch is called [Protagonist]. The person who wears it will become the center of the event. You may be struck by lightning while walking on the road, or you may happen to meet a kind-hearted priest who saves you after being struck, and let you join a powerful church. It doesn't matter whether you are walking to make money, committing murder and arson, or encountering landslides and tsunamis. As long as you wear it, everything is possible."

The goblin's half-extended hand turned smoothly and pressed against his chest where the dagger was hidden. He smiled awkwardly and said, "Pika, Pika thinks this is good! Very safe! Very useful! Pika is leaving now, see you in a few days!"

The kindhearted priest the other party was talking about couldn't be me, Pica didn't want to join any weird church! Looking at the goblin's running back, Mason shook his head and put the brooch on his chest with some confusion.

"As the protagonist of the story, he doesn't even want this kind of artifact. Pica's awareness is not good enough."

The gold brooch quietly stayed on the clothes, shimmering as if responding to the words. Mason's foot just taken a step suddenly moved in the direction, and the next second, a piece of something that needed to be blurred fell where he was supposed to stand.

The young man was silent, looking up at the boundless blue sky. He saw an arrogant bird-shaped monster passing by, and after dropping ammunition, it flew towards the mountains with its companions, its silhouette looking extremely free.

Perhaps choosing not to wear it is also a prediction of the protagonist.

Mason hesitated for a moment, but ultimately did not take off the brooch.

......

Pika sneaked all the way back to the tribe. It was familiar with the environment and did not attract much attention from other goblins.

When Pika returned to the tribe, it was still peaceful and quiet. The old goblin who was sitting at the door picking fruits greeted him warmly when he saw him; the female goblins who were washing clothes came up to him and asked about his well-being.

After spending a few days together, the children running around in the tribe all knew that the current high priest was very kind to children, and they were not shy at all and came to him to ask for food.

Prosperous, harmonious and warm.

If the silver-haired elf hadn't suggested it, Pika would have thought that this was the life he had always dreamed of.

Pica just brushed it off vaguely, only feeling that the peaceful scene before him was full of potential dangers. But as a veteran who had been in human society for a long time, the goblin seemed to be calm, and made a plan in his mind. In the next few days, it took advantage of the gaps in teaching magic to mess around in the village, and the results became more and more shocking.

Before Pica left, the tribe had grown to become the largest tribe in the vicinity, with twelve trolls, six priests, and forty-two hobgoblins.

But after two days of wandering around the tribe, he didn't see a single troll. These huge, low-intelligence aliens usually live with goblins, and each of them is a precious treasure of the tribe. There is no way they would just disappear!

There were so many hobgoblins in the tribe that it was hard to count them. Almost one in every five hobgoblins was a hobgoblin, including the elderly and children. This extraordinary ratio was simply unbelievable, and Pica took a deep breath after just one glance.

Not to mention destroying every tribe, with just these big goblins, the tribe can directly wipe out any single goblin group here!

The reason why it didn't notice this before was, firstly, because all the young goblins would go out hunting during the day, and secondly, it didn't think about it at all.

After weighing the pros and cons for a long time, Pica finally made up his mind. During a class, he "inadvertently" asked a child he was familiar with, "Have other goblin tribes selected priests now?"

The little green man ate the fruit given by Pika, his face full of joy. Hearing the priest's question, he wiped the juice from his mouth reluctantly: "Other goblin tribes? High priest, you forgot, there is only our tribe here!"

The child's answer was crisp, but it was like a gust of cold wind that penetrated every inch of Pikachu's flesh. He opened his mouth uncontrollably, in disbelief.

There are goblins all over the grasslands and mountains, how could there be only one tribe left?!

Something must be wrong, something must have gone wrong! What about the other tribes? Where did they go? Are they really dead? Pika wanted to ask desperately. As soon as he opened his mouth, a hand suddenly rested on his shoulder.

Heavy, powerful, yet extremely cold.

The right shoulder touched by the palm of the hand felt like it was soaked in freezing water, making it difficult for Pica to breathe. A voice rang in its ears like a ghost, making the goblin completely frozen in place.

"What are you talking about?"

The goblin standing opposite the pickup truck saw who was coming and was immediately excited. He said happily, "Master Chief!"

There is no child in the tribe who does not worship the leader. Becoming a leader is the dream of every little goblin, but not all little goblins can talk to the leader. Just this sentence today is enough for it to brag about it for a long time!

The little green man was so happy that he didn't notice that the high priest had fallen silent. Although he looked normal, Pica's heart was beating wildly.

It was the first time it discovered that the hobgoblin's tall stature could walk so fast and with such light steps.

So much so that even though it was so close, it couldn't even hear the other person's breathing.