Chương 4: 2 cups of milk

"So after killing that guy I leveled up G 64 times." The Goblin flicked through their stat screen, which was way too large to fit inside the cramped cave they were walking through.

"Ho ho ho! Happy holidays indeed-deed-deed!"

"So this will be forever known as [That Time I was Reincarnated as a Goblin and Killed the Strongest Hero], then," The Goblin nodded affirmingly.

"I guess my only remaining question is if I'm still part of his harem now that he's dead."

"Unfortunately, that's a for-life appointment," Ilsa sighed, "and we're too two-dimensional to develop feelings for anyone else."

"Dan-," the Goblin was abruptly cut off by a sniper bullet piercing his jaw, securing his spot in heaven <3.

"It's okay. Good romance is hard to write and as the title of the story suggests we're not about that life anyway. But we shouldn't worry about that now: we still have to kill that great demon to get the fragment of the All-Father's Crown. Speaking of — are we still heading in the right direction, Santa-Chan?"

"Ho ho ho! My Santa Senses are telling me that a naughty little boy who needs punishing is right around the corner corner corner!"

"Okay but don't say it like that dude."

"Golly, I don't think I can spend all this exp before we get there," the Goblin grimaced.

"And since I already stabbed someone sixty times once today I can't do it again until my knife recharges."

"Should we wait?"

"Yeah. It'll give my jaw a chance to regrow too." -SEVERAL HOURS LATER-"You good?"

"Yeah let's go." The cavern welcomed their foolish courage with the eagerness of a wolf circling the bravest lamb in the flock, maw wide and salivating at the inevitable bloodshed. The tension was so thick not even a knife fully charged for sixty full-power stabs could cut through it, and the pressure of the task that waited for them just around the corner was enough to make the grips on their weapons — and indeed, the firmness of their own feet on the cave floor — slip.

Yet they advanced anyway, as what choice did they have? Each one was pushed forward by the weight of those behind them. Ilia thought back to her dingy town of no beginnings and dead dreams. All the swollen, hope-forsaken faces at the bar. All the psychotic miscreants waiting for the chance to be a brief obstacle in a hero's journey before being brutally slaughtered in an ill-fated mugging.

All the racist backwater hicks who would throw rocks at anyone who looked even slightly different or dared to live outside the box. They were the most miserable, horrible people on the planet and she would do anything to protect that misery, and someday return to it. Santa Claus was driven, as always, to protect the good and happy children of the world. To secure their smiles, to keep their homes warm and their bellies full, and to make the world a better place for people of all races and creeds.

But the forces of evil stood against everything he believed in, the charity and the light, and were besieging that grace at every opportunity. It was a war. A war on Christmas, if you will. And the only way to win it was with the All-Father's Crown. After all: the All-Father might be gone, but Father Christmas was still here, and he wasn't going to leave for cigarettes and/or milk anytime soon. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

The Goblin had some cool rocks he found two days ago. And there was a crushed snail in his breast pocket. Alone, even these indomitable dreams might falter in the face of the evil they were about to face. But together, bound tight by the thread of fate and shared will, even these hopeless heroes might yet have a chance to- actually is there a point to all this build-up ya'll know this isn't going to end in like 4 or whatever chapters right?

"Ooga booga!" The ancient demon leapt out from behind the corner.

"Ah!" Ilia shouted.

"Ho!" Santa wailed.

"Goblin!" The Goblin also shouted.

"Welcome to my lair, heroes!" The Demon cackled.

"I've waited 51, 722, 000, 000, 000, 000, 001, 208 years for someone foolish enough to try and enter my lair — and it seems my patience has finally paid off! Tell me your names so I can curse you when you inevitably foil me and my plans!"

"Oh no he's too strong!" Ilia fell back, trembling.

"Ho Ho ho! S-stay back or I'll go down your chimney and stuff your stockings sockings stockings!" Santa threatened while entering his iconic Kung-Fu Stance™.

"I live here bro you know my name's just The Goblin."

"I wasn't really talking to you. Why haven't these guys been stabbed sixty times anyway?"

"I'm working with them now!" The Goblin clarified, drawing his knife before grabbing its hilt and pulling it free from its sheathe, "And I'm here to defeat you, villain!"

"Okay but why."

"Everyone run! He's too dangerous!" Ilia fell back, trembling.

"Ho ho ho! He's stronger than even my Santa-Smash! I think we may be doomed doomed doomed!" Santa threatened while entering his iconic Kung-Fu Stance™.

"Why? You'd never understand, you foul demon!" The Goblin stepped forward, brandishing his fully-charged knife.

"Because I don't really understand either. Maybe I found Jesus. Maybe it's that kind of story. Is it?"

"I think it would be outside the appropriate scope of this story to try and comment on real-life religion like that," Ilia fell back, trembling.

"Ho ho ho! I'm supposed to be emblematic of the holidays in general rather than a bridge that connects this fiction to any higher spiritual meaning meaning meaning!" Santa threatened while entering his iconic Kung-Fu Stance™.

"HA! Foolish mortals! It doesn't matter! I am blind to weakness and deaf to metatextual commentary. It doesn't matter why you chose to betray me after so many years of service, I'll slay you all the same" the demon balked, then hurled Fire Fighters at them, which was a S-rank destruction spell where a bunch of guys made of fire fought.

"Ah!" The Goblin barely parried the blow, rushing forward to retaliate with his knife. But the Demon stepped back.

"He knows my weakness! I have short arms!" The Goblin shouted.

"Ah da-" The red dot of a trained sniper fell on Ilia's forehead. She re-evaluated her phrasing.

"Ah geez the first guy had really long arms," Ilia cursed, "if only he were here to save the day!" But I died last chapter and this is an ADULT story where deaths are REAL and have REAL CONSEQUENCE so obviously I'm not coming back. So how will our heroes survive the dreaded demon of doom? FIND OUT? NEXT TIME???