The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

Mikhailis shifted uncomfortably in his goblin body, his wiry green limbs feeling unnatural and awkward. The crude goblin language continued around him, the goblin captain barking commands like a toddler but with a much more terrifying voice. The words were short, harsh, and completely devoid of any formality—it grated on his nerves.

How did I end up here, surrounded by these brutes? He sighed inwardly, sneaking glances at the other goblins around him. The goblin captain, with his makeshift helmet barely hanging onto his head, jabbed a clawed finger towards a group of captives—the humans, halflings, and elves huddled together. The prisoners looked exhausted, their clothes ragged, expressions hollow. Among them, Mikhailis could see the young elven woman he'd seen earlier, her eyes sharp even in her tiredness. The goblin captain growled, shoving Mikhailis towards the prisoners.

"You... take prisoners. Go... main base. Now."

The goblin's voice was rough, and Mikhailis winced at how the words seemed to scratch out of his throat. He kept his head down, nodding like a compliant soldier.

"Yeah, yeah... whatever you say, boss." He muttered under his breath, barely audible, his voice hoarse in this goblin form. The captain shot him a glare but moved on, barking more orders to the others. The atmosphere was tense. Goblins gathered around, some hefting crude weapons, others glaring at the prisoners. There was something unsettling about being surrounded by stronger goblins, especially the Thalorian hobgoblins—twice the size of regular goblins, with muscles that rippled beneath their dirty skin.

This is annoying.

The way these goblins talk... it's like they're toddlers, just with terrifying voices and a penchant for violence.

It's like listening to a really bad puppet show, Mikhailis thought, trying to keep his composure.

The prisoners were roughly tied up, their hands bound behind their backs, and shoved into a large wooden cage on wheels. The cart creaked under the weight, pulled by an old, tired donkey whose ribs were painfully visible beneath its skin. Mikhailis took his place beside the other goblins assigned to the group. He tried his best to remain unnoticed, keeping his goblin eyes focused on the ground.

The captain barked again, signaling the group to move, and the strange procession began. The tunnel entrance loomed before them—dark, narrow, and damp. The goblins pushed the cart into the opening, the wheels creaking as they entered the tunnel. Mikhailis swallowed hard, doing his best to appear as bored and uninterested as the rest of the goblins, even as his heart pounded in his chest.

This tunnel... I haven't seen anything like it. Mikhailis thought, glancing around, his goblin eyes adjusting to the dim light.

It seemed to stretch on endlessly, disappearing into darkness. The tunnel walls were rough, damp, and cold, with strange carvings etched into the stone—symbols that seemed almost ancient. He couldn't help but feel a strange sense of curiosity.

Is this place some kind of forgotten fortress? An underground passage lost to time? Mikhailis wondered.

An incredible find, if it wasn't crawling with goblins.

The group trudged on, the air growing colder as they ventured deeper underground. The goblins moved at a steady pace, their footsteps echoing through the narrow space. Mikhailis stayed close to the cart, his eyes darting around, trying to take in everything. They walked for what felt like an eternity, the tunnel winding and twisting with no end in sight.

After about an hour, the tunnel finally began to widen, the ceiling lifting higher above them, and the air felt less suffocating. Mikhailis could feel the tension in his shoulders easing slightly, though the anxiety never fully left him. The ancient carvings became more intricate the further they went, depicting scenes of battles, rituals, and figures he couldn't quite identify.

This place... it's more than just a tunnel. It's part of something much bigger.

As they walked, Mikhailis found himself growing increasingly bored. The goblins weren't exactly conversational partners—not that he'd want to chat with them even if they were capable. He glanced at one of the goblins walking nearby, a hulking brute whose gaze seemed fixed on the young elven prisoner. The goblin's eyes gleamed with something dark, and Mikhailis noticed the bulge forming at the goblin's crotch.

Ugh, you disgusting, sex-brute, ugly goblin, Mikhailis thought, his lip curling in disgust.

He clenched his clawed fists, wishing he could do something, anything. But he knew better—one wrong move, and he'd blow his cover. And right now, staying alive was more important.
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This is infuriating.

He grumbled inwardly, but then something caught his attention—a glint at the edge of his vision. He glanced upwards, trying to focus on whatever it was, and suddenly, something like a board appeared in his view. Numbers, floating above the goblin's head.

"46...?" Mikhailis muttered softly.

He blinked, realization dawning on him. It's a level. This goblin is level 46. His mind raced.

Does that mean I can see levels now? Like a game status? Because I'm in this goblin body? It's this goblin body's level?

He glanced around at the other goblins, noting the different numbers floating above their heads—levels ranging from 30 to as high as 50. The hobgoblins, towering over the rest, had levels in the high 50s. They must have reached level 100 goblin and reverted to level 1 when they evolved into a hobgoblin.

Interesting... Mikhailis mused.

This might be useful.

The tunnel finally opened up, revealing a vast underground space. Mikhailis' eyes went wide, his breath catching in his throat. It wasn't just a cavern—it was a fortress. Thick stone walls rose up around them, towering archways and battlements lined the edges. It looked like an ancient military stronghold, the kind that might have once stood proud aboveground before being swallowed by the earth.

This... this is incredible. Mikhailis thought, taking in the sight.

The fortress was sprawling, with pathways leading off in different directions, torches flickering on the walls. There were towers, crumbling but still imposing, and structures that looked like barracks or storage buildings. He could see goblins moving everywhere—hundreds of them, bustling about, going about their tasks.

Mikhailis felt a strange mix of awe and dread.

If this place were empty, it'd be an archaeologist's dream... but right now, it's a nightmare.

The fortress was full of goblins—more than he'd ever seen in one place. They were everywhere, occupying every corner of the fortress. Goblin warriors, shamans, even what looked like goblin engineers, working on some sort of crude machinery. The sight was overwhelming, the sheer number of goblins making his stomach twist in anxiety.

The group moved towards a large stone building on the far side of the fortress. The prison, Mikhailis realized. The goblins pushed the cart inside, the prisoners herded out roughly, their hands still bound. Mikhailis followed, his eyes scanning the area. The building was dimly lit, the air heavy with the stench of filth and despair.

He could see rows of cells—hundreds of them. Human women, elves, halflings—all of them imprisoned, their eyes hollow, their bodies bruised and exposed. Mikhailis felt his stomach churn, bile rising in his throat.

This... this is monstrous.

He clenched his teeth, forcing himself to stay calm, to keep up the act. He couldn't afford to slip now. Not here. Not surrounded by hundreds of goblins.

The young elven woman was shoved into one of the cells, her eyes meeting Mikhailis' for a brief moment. There was something there—a spark of defiance, a glimmer of hope. Mikhailis gave her the smallest nod, a silent promise. He would do what he could. But for now, he had to survive.

The goblins locked the cells, their crude laughter echoing through the chamber. Mikhailis swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. He turned away, following the other goblins out of the building, his mind racing.

This is impossible... He thought, his eyes scanning the fortress once more. The sheer scale of it, the number of goblins, the prisoners—all of it felt overwhelming. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

"This is impossible..." he muttered, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

But he knew he couldn't give up. He had to find a way out, had to find a way to help those prisoners, had to get this information back to Elowen and the others. He had to survive.

"Okay, Mikhailis. I guess this is not the time to hold back,"