“Goler, I've never seen you lift your visor. Is it inconvenient?”
As Kakafiel mounted his horned horse, he curiously asked the knight accompanying him.
It was the first time he had ever been curious about another man's real appearance.
Mainly, Kakafiel felt this guy was just too strange.
A knight of this caliber shouldn't be completely unknown—just yesterday, he had witnessed firsthand how strong this mysterious knight truly was.
When they ran into bandits trying to raid them, before anyone else could even step down from the carriage, this guy had drawn his sword with one hand, and in just a few breaths, completely slaughtered those blue-eyed raiders.
“I am ugly,” the accompanying mysterious knight replied briefly.
“Hahaha! And here I was wondering what the reason was! What does being ugly matter? As long as you have money, you're fine. I'll get you some proper gear later,” Kakafiel said, feeling like he had hit the jackpot.
This guy named Goler was more powerful on his own than the entire group of bodyguards he had previously hired.
He felt that, at a conservative estimate, this knight he had picked up was at least an official Professional.
Even if he wasn't a Senior (Middle-tier) Professional, he was probably close.
Goler (the mysterious knight): “No need. I do not care for such things.”
His recent experiences had stripped him of almost everything.
This included what little compassion he had left.
So even though he knew what was about to happen next, Goler was in no mood to warn those human nobles.
The fact that he wasn't actively seeking revenge was already merciful enough.
His only interest now was to follow this somewhat unusual merchant and see how the man would face whatever lay ahead.
Goler had never believed that good deeds brought good rewards.
But Kakafiel's actions had sparked a bit of his interest—he wanted to witness how this guy's story would end.
“Well, everyone must have some kind of desire,” Kakafiel said, turning his head on his horned horse to glance sideways at Goler beside him.
“Desire... Heh.”
Goler let out a strange laugh. Desire... Was that not the root of all misfortune?
To tell the truth, he didn't even know what he wanted anymore.
He was truly lost.
The hatred and his mother's teachings constantly clashed inside him, maintaining a delicate, tense balance.
“There's nothing wrong with facing your desires,” Kakafiel said with a smile. “Goler, I don't think anyone should feel guilty for the desires they harbor. Desires need to be tempered, but they shouldn't be completely discarded. If a person has no desires at all, can they even be called human?”
“Humans... are not really any different from beasts,” Goler retorted, a rare disagreement from him.
“In a sense, maybe that's true.” Kakafiel tucked a wind-blown strand of hair behind his ear. “Humans aren't actually all that noble. We're just parasites on this continent—it's just that we happen to be a bit stronger.”
The human race.
Compared to dragons and elves, they could indeed be considered incredibly weak and naturally deficient.
But compared to other races, humans could already be called a ‘perfect race.’
The mere ability to hold and wield weapons made them stronger than many other creatures.
When compared to similar competitors, they also far surpassed goblins, lesser night-demons, and short beastkin in terms of physical build and intelligence.
A normally developed adult human female holding a stick could defeat two adult male goblins (provided there were no unusual hybrid bloodlines involved).
To say nothing of those powerful Professionals.
“Is it only because of strength...”
Goler felt a bit disinclined to continue the conversation. He had initially thought Kakafiel would offer a different perspective.
“Strength is merely the foundation that supports the pursuit of ideals. To simply survive, one doesn't actually need to be very strong. But humans can't just limit their pursuits to merely staying alive—otherwise, there really would be no difference between us and wild beasts or monsters. So, I think having something to chase after is actually a good thing. As long as it makes you happy.”
Kakafiel spoke while looking straight ahead.
“Then what about other monsters... like goblins, for example?” Goler asked, seemingly casually.
“How would I know what goblins think? Perhaps that is a question you should ask Keduo (the gray dwarf),” Kakafiel said.
“No... I simply want to know how you view goblins,” Goler asked after a brief silence.
“How else can I view them? What kind of pursuits or meaning can there be for a race that only strives to survive and reproduce? Besides, whatever I think won't change how other people view them, right?”
In truth, Kakafiel disliked the goblin race.
But he eventually realized that no matter how much he loathed them, nothing would ever change.
So, he abandoned these meaningless personal opinions.
Instead of wasting time on such thoughts, he might as well make more money.
“So what you are saying is, goblins are simply not strong enough...” Goler had clearly somewhat misunderstood Kakafiel's point.
Yet, his train of thought wandered further and further down this path.
‘If goblins were strong enough, what would they look like...’ Goler began to fantasize in his mind.
In fact, there were quite a few species templates that could serve as stronger analogues for goblins.
For instance, the centaurs roaming the plains also engaged in raiding and debauchery—only a tiny portion of them possessed a decent level of civilization.
Looking at the bigger picture,
dragons were fundamentally not much different from goblins. They were just as greedy and just as lustful.
It was only that dragons were so powerful that almost no one dared to provoke them.
The mighty power of dragons made even the sub-dragons they sired quite popular—even humans were highly willing to mate with them.
Humans detested half-goblin offspring, yet flocked eagerly to those of dragon-blood lineage...
“That's not what I meant at all...”
Kakafiel shook his head, interrupting Goler's thoughts.
“What I meant is that a single person's opinions can rarely change anything... It's very difficult to change others, but changing oneself is easy. You can't decide other people's choices, but you can decide the meaning of your own existence. This is true for any intelligent race.”
Kakafiel's words did not sway Goler.
He felt more and more certain that the true root of all his misfortunes was his lack of strength.
If he had been stronger, his mother wouldn't have been captured by those ogres in order to protect him—no, if he had been stronger, his mother wouldn't have been kicked out in the first place.
If he had been strong enough to resist Moor back then, he could have ignored the damn orders of his ‘teacher’ and protected his ‘brothers’...
He would have been able to protect his village...
“If you can't affect anyone else, it's simply because you aren't strong enough. Kakafiel, I think I know what my desire is now—I want to become strong!”
A look of absolute determination flashed in Goler's eyes beneath his armored visor.
He had to become strong.
And then kill that so-called ‘King’!
Only in this way could he truly save the goblin race.
Ideology was important, but the prerequisite for implementing an ideological civilization was a foundation of great power.
“Become strong? Perhaps. But in this world, the strong are ultimately the minority. Many, many people who can never become strong can still find a purpose in living. Ideals are not exclusive to the strong.”
Kakafiel never directly refuted someone—he always left plenty of leeway in his words.
“That doesn't matter.”
Goler shook his head. He remained steadfast in his views because he had already suffered the consequences of harboring ideals without the power to back them up.
“Indeed, none of it matters if you can't even stay alive.”
Kakafiel turned his horned horse around and looked back at the village they had just left. “Helping more people who need clothes get through the cold winter is what's most important right now. Meaning and ideals have to take a back seat before survival. Without meaning, perhaps a human isn't fully human. But if one can't even sustain basic survival, then one can't even be considered a beast.”
Kakafiel's backward glance prompted Goler to turn his head as well.
Looking at the villagers wearing new clothes in the distance, he couldn't help but ask Kakafiel one final question.
“Then what is your ideal... your meaning?”
“Me?” Kakafiel was taken aback for a moment, and then he burst into hearty laughter. “Hahaha! I'm just a vulgar man. Didn't I already tell you my ideal when we first met?”
“I, Kakafiel, the future greatest merchant of the frontier...”
...
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