Day 4
I woke up to the sound of rustling leaves and soft murmurs—familiar, but somehow distant. My body felt… different. Bigger. Stronger.
I sat up and looked at my hands. No longer tiny, chubby fingers. My limbs had grown, and I was taller—almost reaching the height of the hobgoblins around me.
I glanced at the group of hobgoblins who were staring at me with wide eyes. Their mouths were agape.
"That's… that's the baby?"
"He grew so fast..."
"Is this normal for goblins?"
I didn't answer them. I didn't have the energy to. My stomach let out a loud, low growl, making me feel like I was about to collapse if I didn't get something to eat soon.
I turned, heading toward the trees that bordered their settlement. The forest beckoned me. It was quiet—peaceful, but with a wild, primal edge to it. I needed food. I needed to hunt.
But as I walked away, something stopped me.
I glanced back. And there she was. The goblin woman.
She wasn't just any goblin. She had those breasts. You know, the kind that made every other goblin woman look flat in comparison. Soft, round, warm—perfectly pillowy. And for a moment, I'd been lucky enough to have her care for me, to feed me, to offer her warmth and... her milk.
A low sigh escaped my lips, and I stared at the ground.
"Guess it's over now," I muttered, looking down at my flat chest. "No more cozy feedings. No more cuddles in her arms."
I clenched my fists, trying to shake off the hollow feeling that gnawed at me. The loss felt... weird. Like something fundamental had been taken from me—like I had been robbed of the softest, most peaceful part of this life.
"Goodbye... warm, soft goblin boobs," I whispered under my breath, trying to hold back the absurd sadness. "You were my first and greatest comfort in this cruel world."
My stomach growled again, louder this time, dragging me out of my strange reverie. Right. Food.
I wiped away a pretend tear from my eye and turned back to the wilderness.
So, yeah. I was no longer a helpless infant. But I wasn't ready for this. Not ready to leave behind what I had lost, even if it was just... milk.
My stomach growled again, louder this time, dragging me out of my strange reverie. Right. Food.
I wiped away a pretend tear from my eye and turned back to the wilderness. There was no time for nostalgia. I had to survive.
The trees were dense, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and wild flora. I sniffed the air, trying to sense anything edible—anything that could fill the emptiness inside. But the hunger didn't care about me missing milk, about me missing comfort. It only cared about satisfying itself.
I pushed forward, following my instincts. Every step was heavier than the last, but my body, now bigger and stronger, carried me easily.
But as I ventured further, a thought lingered in my mind—something I hadn't thought about before.
I wasn't just a goblin anymore. I was a grown goblin. In my past life, I had been a hero, sure, but that didn't matter now. This world? This world didn't care. It was wild. It was harsh. And the only thing that mattered here was survival.
And to survive, I had to stop thinking about soft things and start thinking about hard things—like meat. Blood. The hunt.
I stopped in my tracks.
There it was. A shadow moving between the trees. A rabbit, or something close. Small, but fast.
Instinct kicked in.
I crouched low, moving toward it without making a sound. The hunger gnawed at me, pushing me faster, sharper. My eyes narrowed. I could feel the power in my legs, the strength in my arms. I was no longer that fragile infant, depending on others for care. I was a goblin now, a creature of instinct and hunger.
And I was ready to claim what was mine.
I crouched low, moving quietly through the underbrush. My senses sharpened, every sound magnified in the stillness of the forest. My stomach twisted with hunger, pushing me forward.
I paused, eyes narrowing as I spotted movement in the bushes ahead. Something small—something quick.
I carefully inched forward, peering through the thick leaves.
And there it was.
A creature resembling a rabbit, but much larger—its fur a mix of grey and white, and its ears long and twitching nervously. Its eyes were wide, alert. It was a monster, but its form resembled a rabbit in many ways.
System Notification:
Monster Name: Lupbunny
My heart raced. This was no ordinary prey. The name sounded unfamiliar, and the system's cold voice didn't help calm my nerves.
The Lupbunny's body rippled with power, its muscles tensing as it sniffed the air. It must have sensed me, but it didn't seem to notice my exact position yet.
I took a deep breath, steadying myself. I was no longer that weak, defenseless baby. I had grown—grown enough to hunt. But the feeling of the hunt, that familiar rush, was new in this form. My hands tingled, my body ready to move, but there was one thing I needed to figure out first.
I didn't know what exactly this monster could do. Was it dangerous? Could I take it down?
There was no time to second-guess myself. The Lupbunny had already started moving again, hopping nimbly through the dense underbrush.
I crouched lower, preparing myself to make the first move.
As the Lupbunny started hopping slowly toward me, I could feel every muscle in my body tense in response. My heart began to beat in time with my sharpened focus. My hand clenched into a tight fist, the urge to strike coursing through me.
I drew my arm back slowly, deliberately, like a bowstring pulled to its limit. Every fiber in my body screamed for action. The Lupbunny moved closer, oblivious to the danger that loomed in the stillness of the forest.
With a deep breath, I locked my focus onto the creature, steadying myself. I wasn't some defenseless baby anymore. This was my moment.
The air seemed to thicken as I prepared. My grip tightened even harder, my fingers biting into my palm, as if willing my power into the strike.
Just one hit.
Then, without warning, I released the tension, launching forward in a burst of speed, my arm snapping forward with deadly precision.
The Lupbunny was sent flying back by the force of my blow, its body tumbling through the air before crashing into a nearby tree. For a brief moment, I thought I had it, that it was done for. But just as quickly, I saw an opening.
Without hesitation, I dashed forward, my muscles burning with raw determination. My eyes locked onto the creature as I prepared for my second strike. It was struggling to recover, but it was still dangerous.
Then, in the blink of an eye, it kicked off the ground with a burst of speed, launching itself directly at me. Its hind legs struck me hard in the chest, sending me flying back, crashing into the earth.
The pain exploded through my ribs, sharp and brutal. Dammit! I gasped for air, my body aching from the force of the kick. I staggered to my feet, gritting my teeth, but it was clear—the Lupbunny wasn't going down easily.
In that split second, the Lupbunny's body twisted in mid-air, its fur rippling as it spun like a deadly blur. Then, with a surprising burst of agility, it launched something—some sort of invisible slash—from its body.
I barely saw it coming, but instinct kicked in. I threw myself to the side, just in time to avoid the brunt of the attack. The slash grazed my shoulder, and a searing pain shot through me. It hurt more than it looked, the sharp sting of it sending a wave of heat through my body.
I gritted my teeth, my vision blurring with pain for a moment, but I kept my stance, refusing to back down. The Lupbunny wasn't just a rabbit—it was a force to be reckoned with.
System Notification:
Monster Skill Detected: Crescent Moon Slash
A swift and powerful attack that sends a crescent-shaped wave of energy toward the target, capable of cutting through armor and flesh with ease. The Lupbunny uses this skill with incredible speed and precision, making it a dangerous move in close combat.
Not bad...
If I eat this, I can snag that skill for myself. A clean, deadly move like that? Hell yeah, I'll take it.
The Lupbunny charged at me, its legs a blur as it unleashed a flurry of kicks. I barely had time to react, my body moving on pure instinct as I blocked and dodged, searching for an opening.
Then, I saw it—a brief gap in its attack.
In one swift motion, I sidestepped, grabbing its long ear with a firm grip. Without hesitation, I slammed its head hard into the ground, the sound of the impact echoing through the forest.
"You goddamn bunny," I growled, my muscles burning with adrenaline as I stood over the dazed creature.