Cultivation of Goblin

The forest hare was roasted over their small fire, its scent a foreign luxury to the starved goblins. He allowed them to eat, watching as they devoured the meat with savage hunger, their beady eyes shining with a mix of fear and newfound contentment. He took only a small portion for himself, not out of modesty, but because his cultivation gains far outstripped any nutritional value simple meat could offer.

While they ate, he thought. He had demonstrated raw power. He had provided sustenance. Now, he needed to start teaching them. He couldn't have a pathetic tribe. He needed goblins capable of understanding basic commands, of following orders beyond simple terror.

"You," he barked, pointing a claw at the chieftain, who nearly choked on a piece of bone. "What is your name?"

The goblin trembled. "Grub... Master. They call me Grub."

"Grub," he repeated, the name tasting crude on his tongue. "You are now my First Shaman. You will learn from me. You will command the others."

Grub's eyes widened. A shaman? He was just a scavenger. "Master... I don't..."

"Silence!" he snapped, cutting him off. "Your old self is dead. Now, you serve me. You will be strong. Or you will be food." The unspoken threat hung heavy in the air.

He then turned his attention to the rest of thebins. "The rest of you will be hunters. You will find more meat. But not by clumsy searching. You will learn cunning."

He began his first crude lesson. He used [Minor Earth Manipulation (E)] to quickly dig a small, shallow pit. "This is a trap," he growled, demonstrating how to cover it with leaves. "You will learn to make these. You will learn to use the terrain."

He forced them to practice, watching with hawk-like intensity as they clumsily tried to replicate his actions. They were slow, stupid, but under his menacing guidance, they slowly began to grasp the concept. He corrected their mistakes with sharp barks and subtle uses of his skill, sending pebbles skittering to emphasize a point. His mana replenished quickly thanks to the Mana Moths back in his cavern stronghold.

Days turned into a grueling routine. He pushed them relentlessly. He made them practice setting crude snares and traps. He taught them basic stealth, how to move through the undergrowth without snapping every twig. He made them clean their crude weapons, demanding a rudimentary level of discipline.

His own cultivation continued unabated. With the Earth Essence from his main cavern and the constant Mana supply, he felt the pressure building towards his next breakthrough. He spent his nights meditating, drawing in the essence, while his goblins huddled in their crude cave, exhausted but increasingly well-fed.

The goblins were changing, slowly. They still feared him, but a strange, distorted sense of loyalty, born of terror and constant provision, began to form. They were no longer just starving runts. They were his runts. They looked to him for guidance, for food, for safety.

One evening, as the sun began to set, casting long shadows through the trees, he felt it. The familiar, intense pressure in his core. The Earth Essence surged, then pulsed, stronger than ever.

[Notification]: Host's Cultivation has met breakthrough requirements. Initiate advancement to [Mortal Realm, High-Grade]? Y/N

He didn't hesitate. "Yes!"

A wave of intense heat washed over him, followed by a profound sense of expansion. His body vibrated. His vision momentarily blurred with dancing motes of light. The power coursing through him was immense, far beyond anything he'd felt before.

[Cultivation Breakthrough Achieved!]: Host has advanced to [Mortal Realm, High-Grade]!

[New Attributes]

Strength: 1.5

Agility: 1.8

Mana: 10.0/10.0 (Mana Cap Increased!)

Endurance: 1.5

Perception: 2.0

[New Skill Unlocked]:

* [Goblinoid Command (D)]: Allows the user to exert limited mental influence over weaker goblinoid creatures. Range: 10 meters. Consumes 1.0 Mana per min (active).

He let out a low, guttural growl, a sound of pure, unadulterated power. His skin was now noticeably tougher, almost like rough scales. His fangs felt longer, sharper. He had transcended. He was a High-Grade Mortal Realm goblin.

And then, he saw the new skill: [Goblinoid Command (D)]. His eyes gleamed. Mental influence. This changed everything. He wouldn't just rule by fear and cunning. He would rule by direct control. His tribe would be more than just a rabble. They would be an extension of his will.

The real expansion, the true beginning of his dominion, was about to start. He looked at the trembling goblins huddled near their fire. They were his tools now. And he had a purpose for them. A grand, terrifying purpose.