Overlord: Welcome the Birth of the King

He watched as two powerful ogres were effortlessly slain by Lyle and noticed the human gradually approaching him.

Especially...

Each swing of the twin swords in Lyle's hands sent out a terrifying gust of wind that stung his cheeks.

Escape.

Cowardice was deeply embedded in the goblin race's very genes, particularly when faced with the threat of death.

At this moment, the creature's first instinct was to run.

However—

If the goblin had simply crouched on the ground and remained completely still, even with Lyle's wide-sweeping attacks, he might not have been able to detect it.

Now, with its panicked flight, the creature's peculiar camouflage began to shift and falter. It was as though a moving, color-changing partition had appeared in the middle of the forest, making it highly conspicuous.

"I see you," Lyle said, halting the motion of his twin blades. Turning toward the color-shifting figure, he flashed a bright smile.

Lyle noticed that the creature moved remarkably fast.

Even in the dense, uneven terrain of the forest, it ran as if sprinting across open plains. The surrounding vegetation posed no obstacle to it.

"What kind of ability is this?" Lyle thought, his curiosity piqued. Yet, his hands didn't falter. With a firm grip, he reversed his sword and threw it like a javelin.

Whoosh!

The immense force created a sharp whistling sound as the blade tore through the air.

The camouflaged creature was instantly impaled!

"Ahhh!!"

A shriek of pain echoed through the forest as the creature collapsed, writhing in agony.

Only then did Lyle approach.

His earlier attack had disrupted the creature's mysterious camouflage.

The goblin was now fully exposed to Lyle's view, leaving him momentarily stunned.

Unlike ordinary goblins, which were typically dark green from head to toe, this one had notably lighter skin, with two sharp fangs jutting from its lower jaw. But what stood out most was its size!

While regular goblins, even adults, were about the size of human children, this goblin rivaled a dwarf in stature.

"I'm dying!"

"It hurts so much; I'm going to die!"

The goblin lay on the ground, a sword embedded in its back, wailing in pain.

If Lyle had initially doubted his assumptions, the creature's ability to speak erased all uncertainty.

"I thought it was just a mutated goblin," Lyle muttered coldly, his gaze fixed on the writhing creature before him.

"It turns out to be a variant—what humans call a Hobgoblin."

The Hobgoblin.

A subspecies of the goblin race, it far surpassed ordinary goblins in both physical strength and intelligence, nearing human levels.

However—

Unlike regular goblins, known for their terrifying reproductive abilities, Hobgoblins did not reproduce as rapidly. Yet, they could still mate with ordinary goblins.

As a result, Hobgoblin often lived among groups of regular goblins, and their superior physical and mental capabilities naturally elevated them to leadership roles.

Lyle stepped forward and planted his foot on the Hobgoblin's head, silencing its cries. With a steady hand, he yanked the iron sword from its back.

Squelch!

Green blood sprayed into the air.

"Ahhh!!"

The Hobgoblin clenched its jaws, suppressing a scream, but the pain forced it to let out another wail. Its body trembled uncontrollably as it weakly pleaded:

"Human, don't kill me…"

"If I die, the ogres won't let you off—ahhh!!"

Thud!

When the word "Ogres" was mentioned, Lyle's eyes narrowed. He stomped hard again, forcing his captive's head into the muddy ground, littered with broken branches and decayed leaves.

"Too noisy," Lyle muttered impatiently, his expression calm yet full of disdain.

He understood now.

If his memory served him correctly, the trolls' domain was home to a tribe of hobgoblins known as the "Gigu Tribe." These oversized goblins had appeared in certain records and were comparable to the relationship between ordinary goblins and ogres. Hobgoblins, intelligent and resourceful, were subjugated by Ogres because of their cunning nature.

Of course, to Ogres, hobgoblins were not just tools but also a backup food source.

When the overlord slew the "Eastern Giant," Troll King Giu, the Gigu Tribe gained their freedom and subsequently joined the nearby village of Carne. Notably, they were integrated into the governance system of the "Great Tomb of Nazarick," making them one of the few fortunate groups in this world.

Still, the Gigu Tribe was supposed to reside deep within the jungles controlled by Troll King Guu. So, what was one of them doing out here?

Lyle frowned, suspicion flickering in his mind. He began piecing things together. The troublemaker who had been causing him headaches recently might just have been using these creatures to further their schemes.

Hobgoblins, due to their intelligence, were seen as nobles among lesser goblins, so commanding their kind was no challenge.

What about ogres?

Due to their innate nature, ogres preferred serving hobgoblins over ordinary goblins.

"Hmm?"

Lyle shifted his foot and looked down at the hobgoblin beneath him. Its body was twitching violently, as if death were imminent. Its eyes flickered erratically.

"Fragile," Lyle murmured.

Yet, compared to regular goblins, this hobgoblin was undoubtedly stronger. Despite having taken a sword strike earlier, which would have instantly killed any ordinary goblin, this creature had merely sustained heavy injuries.

It showed resilience, which intrigued Lyle.

His gaze sharpened as he crouched down and placed a hand on the hobgoblin's back. The deep gash there was still bleeding profusely.

"Minor Healing," Lyle said softly.

Initially, Lyle had intended to kill the hobgoblin outright. But an idea had just struck him—perhaps this creature could serve another purpose.

A gentle white light emerged, descending onto the hobgoblin's blood-soaked wound. The bleeding ceased almost immediately, and the injury began to close rapidly.

The low-level healing spell wasn't enough to completely restore such severe wounds, but it was sufficient to ensure the hobgoblin's survival.

The creature, which had been writhing in agony and on the brink of death moments ago, gradually stopped convulsing. Its eyes now carried a mix of confusion and the relief of narrowly escaping death.

Lyle grabbed its dirt-covered, leaf-strewn green head and yanked it out of the mud. The hobgoblin lifted its head, looking up at the human standing over it with an expression of indifference.

"Human–" the hobgoblin began, its voice trembling.

"If you let me go, the ogres won't bother you anymore."

The hobgoblin's body quivered as it scrambled to its feet. Its hands pressed against its injured neck as it tried to retreat. Although it attempted to appear composed, its movements betrayed its fear.