Chapter 91: Pied Piper

The Collector listened to the frostborn hobgoblin exposit information as they traveled towards the goblin settlement.

Through the hobgoblin, the Collector came to know several pieces of information regarding their behavior and social organization.

There were five hobgoblin tribes, each numbering around one hundred, though the tribe this one hailed from, the so called 'Frostskull' tribe, had whittled down to below fifty in attempting to support the goblin lord.

The thrall that the Collector consumed had also originated from this tribe, and the elder that the hobgoblin spoke of was the thrall's mentor.

This raised possibilities that there was potential for this 'elder' to possess the advanced form of bone binding necessary to replicate the Burial Tusks. This, on top of the elder's significant probability of possessing considerable breadths of knowledge regarding this biome.

The elder was decrepit and required assistance to perform even basic survival actions. So long as the rest of the tribe was disabled, then the elder would never have the chance to escape.

As for the tribe itself, the Collector learned that the goblins of this biome were highly nomadic as a species. They primarily hunted, scavenged, and gathered, for when storms passed, the snow and ice thawed to a degree to expose edible flora and fauna attracted to them.

Yet, the monsters of this area were significantly stronger than those in the Darkwoods.

The Collector could sense this from the very moment it had warped into frigid snowscape.

The atmosphere here was different. In the beginning, when the Collector first began evolving in its prior forest biome, the Collector could only vaguely perceive it, but now it knew that the concentration of mana in this biome was much higher than in the Darkwoods.

This allowed some, but not all species to attain higher thresholds of strength. For example, the goblins of the Frostborn variant were a degree stronger than the black skinned variants in the forest biome, but the difference was not extreme.

Species in this biome such as the goblins, then, that did not find significant enhancements to their spirit roots, cores, and bone and muscle density among many other quantifiers for strength became scavengers due to their inherent weakness.

The goblins tracked stronger monsters and picked apart the remains of prey they hunted.

Sometimes, they themselves hunted prey, though rarely any with magical potential. Often, they finished off prey injured by other predators.

Thus, in scavenging and gathering, the goblins did not ever settle in one spot for long, and even if they could, they could not build permanent shelters for themselves due to the lack of building materials.

The presence of forests with wood, a common material for tinkerers to use as building material in early signs of civilization did exist, but far south from the Collector's location, and it was primarily a resource guarded and utilized by humans.

Humans, the Collector would have to avoid for now. The Collector had a far better grasp of the strength the tinkerers possessed and the relative degree of communicative connection they had with each other.

Assessing from their responses to the Collector and threats to their settlements from monsters such as the goblin lord, it did not seem that humanoid forces were united to any degree remotely nearing the high-speed and advanced communications of spacefaring tinkerers.

But the risk still remained that any attention the Collector brought to a human settlement would bring forth powerful counter-responses such as higher starred adventurers or potentially the winged humanoids.

Thus, until the Collector fully believed itself powerful enough, it would not attempt to engage with human settlements anymore unless there was a completely minimal risk of the Collector's presence becoming exposed.

At the very least, the Collector desired to rival the strength of the winged humanoid. It was difficult to approximate how many metamorphosis levels that would take, for calculations became nebulous when incorporating the highly fluctuating and unpredictable element of magical energy into the equation.

Thus, if the Collector was to obtain information about the tinkering species of this world, it would have to do so with specimen that were tangentially related to them.

For example, these goblins that knew of humans, feared them, attacked them, and yet were entirely separate from them.

The Collector clicked the mandibles of its main skull as it perceived that it was nearing the coordinates for the settlement it had memorized. It knew now that the goblins were currently settled in a structure called a Snowmound.

When sufficient levels of snow and ice built up over single spots, spots presumably concentrated with mana that altered the space in some manner, they formed Snowmounds: large, dome-like protrusions in the environment that became highly resistant to natural melting.

Within these, the goblins dug out temporary burrows to weather storms, though their hunting, gathering, and scavenging behaviors would always require them to move.

This was a rare occurrence where the entire Frostskull tribe was holed up in a Snowmound due to a storm.

The Collector stopped two hundred meters before the goblin gathering's coordinates. The frostborn hobgoblin under its control kept moving forwards, for the Collector had already unraveled the details of its minor plan to the specimen.

Unlike the goblin lord, the Collector possessed greater mana reserves to constantly utilize Higher Calling, but beyond a difference in capacity, the Collector possessed an exceptionally more honed understanding and fine utilization of mana, allowing it to more efficiently and effectively use the primal magic.

As the hobgoblin trudged forwards, out of sight, the Collector's back carapace clicked, splitting apart to unravel four white-capped firefly wings, the latticed structures gleaming with a faint, golden glow.

The Collector put strength into its tail, and then sailed up into the air, its four wings vibrating and flapping rapidly.

==

Rogg moved towards the location the lord had bid him to. He did so because he needed to. Because it was what he was meant to do, no matter what. He ignored the three days of hunger and thirst and cold. He did not even feel any of that anymore, not when the lord's words rang in his mind.

His body knew what it had to do, and it shut out the useless things like the pain or hunger that could stop him.

He trudged forwards with even, unnaturally mechanical steps, his posture straight and his arms dangling at his sides. When he started to see the Snowmound, that was when life began to spring back into his movements.

Mechanical steps became a hurried sprint. Blue eyes that only stared straight ahead began darting from side to side in excitement. Even breathing became hurried and deep. An expressionless face became twisted into one showcasing urgency.

As soon as Rogg neared the Snowmound, two warriors poked their heads out of a tunnel entrance. Rogg knew the two as the brothers Ogni and Ognu. They were young and quickly becoming strong. They looked up to Rogg.

They would listen to Rogg. They would listen to the lord.

"Out! Out! Monster coming!" shouted Rogg as he waved the brothers forward.

The two hobgoblins came out when they heard Rogg's voice, rushing through the snowy wind to support Rogg's shoulders once they saw how weakened he was.

"I not hurt much. But monster coming! Get others, we fight now!" said Rogg.

"Monster? What monster? Strong one? Do we run?" said one of the brothers. Both brothers looked to Rogg expectantly, knowing that Rogg was a good warrior whose words could be trusted.

A brave warrior, too. After all, Rogg was the only one willing to go into the storm to chase the Frostboar that had gutted Wun.

Rogg never did catch the boar, and the storm almost killed him, but he was thankful that it led him to the lord.

"No, no run!" said Rogg with a snarl. "It is big Frostbear. Wounded. We can kill! Tell champion. Give me club. We fight now, take bear's head. Then, we feast for days!"

Ogni and Ognu nodded, crawling back into the Snowmound. Ten minutes later, they came out with all the male hobgoblins charging behind them. The stronger ones had weapons. Clubs made out of the strong ice. The weaker ones used fists.

Ogni handed Rogg a club of strong ice. Rogg grunted in thanks as he gripped it.

"We hungry, take bear! Kill bear!" said the hobgoblins in a chant.

Rogg shouted in agreement and raised his club in the air, and as he did so, took note of how many there were. Twenty-three. All of them except the champion.

But soon, the champion came.

The champion struggled to leave out of the tunnel the rest of the hobgoblin came from, and it was clear why. The champion was two heads taller than them all, even Rogg, and much wider too. Much more muscle. Strong.

The champion grunted as he pushed himself out of the tunnel and then stood up, a sword of strong ice, one taken from the humans, in his big, scarred white hands. His tusks jutted out as he stared down at Rogg.

"You say there is Frostbear?" said the champion.

Rogg bowed his head and pretended to tremble. Once, he did fear the champion. Now, he knew the lord's words were far, far beyond the champion.

Soon, Rogg would lead them all to their true calling.

"Yes. Big bear, leg wounded. I lead us. Will feed us for days," said Rogg.

"I take half meat," said Gobb, the champion. "Because I fight bear alone. Rest of you, watch. I follow now. Go, Rogg."

Rogg nodded, baring his teeth in anticipation, and the rest of the goblins too bared their teeth and tensed their bodies for the hunt.

Though Rogg did not anticipate the hunt. He only felt eager for the praise that was to come his way from bringing his brethren to the lord's warm side.