The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

Mikhailis let out a shaky sigh as he settled himself down in the secluded storeroom, his body still aching from the battle with Vyrelda. He winced as he adjusted his weight on the small wooden stool, the bruises across his body screaming for relief. But there was no time for rest, not now. He pulled out a parchment from his makeshift bag, unrolling it on the floor in front of him. His fingers felt stiff, every movement a reminder of just how close he'd come to death earlier.

"Alright, let's get to work," Mikhailis muttered to himself, pulling out a piece of charcoal.

He began by drawing a rough map of the goblin fortress. The layout was simple but effective. He started marking the key areas—Goblin Apostle's quarters, the weapon storage, the prisoner holding area, and the weak spots in the defenses. His hand moved quickly, his mind recalling every detail he had observed during his time inside the fortress. Each room, each hallway, even the cracks in the stone walls—anything that could give Elowen's forces an edge.

Next, he focused on the patrol routines. He wrote down the timing of each patrol, noting how they changed throughout the day. He marked the routes the goblins took, the number of goblins per patrol, and the areas they covered. He knew from observation that the goblins weren't always consistent in their routines, but there were definite patterns. The most dangerous times to approach the base and the times when the guards grew complacent—he noted it all down.

The more information I can give them, the better prepared they'll be, he thought, a determined glint in his eyes.

He wrote down the total number of goblins in the fortress—fifteen hundred, give or take. He separated them by their roles: the regular Thalorian goblins, which made up the majority; the hobgoblins, tougher and slightly smarter; the shamans, who wielded their rudimentary dark magic; the Goblin Champions, the powerful enforcers; and finally, the Goblin Apostle—the leader. Each role had a different function, and Mikhailis made sure to be thorough in his descriptions.

He then drew small symbols to represent the different goblin types and their positions in the fortress. The shamans were usually near the beetle pits, where they conducted their strange rituals. The champions were stationed closer to the Apostle's quarters, acting as personal guards. He noted the changing times for guards and highlighted the moments when the base was at its weakest—usually during the early hours of dawn when the goblins were switching shifts.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

They really do get lazy around that time, Mikhailis mused, a small smile pulling at his lips. Maybe this will be easier than I thought.

Once he had sketched out everything he knew, he leaned back, inspecting his work. The parchment was covered in notes and drawings—a detailed layout of the goblin base, complete with patrol schedules and defensive weaknesses. It wasn't perfect, but it was the best he could do under the circumstances.

"Alright, Rodion," Mikhailis muttered, his gaze shifting to his glowing tattoos.

"Time for you to do your part."

The tattoos glowed brighter for a moment, and then Rodion's voice filled Mikhailis's mind.

<Mikhailis, the level of detail is... acceptable. Proceed with your explanations.>

"Oh, thanks for the overwhelming enthusiasm," Mikhailis said, rolling his eyes.

"Alright, here's what I've got."

He began explaining each part of the parchment in detail. He went over the base layout, pointing out the key areas. He described the goblin types, their roles, and where they were stationed. He listed the patrol routines, emphasizing the times when the base was least guarded.

Rodion listened in silence, the only sign of his presence being the occasional flicker of light from the tattoos.

<Understood. Relaying information to Queen Elowen and the human forces. Estimated response time: ten minutes.>

Mikhailis nodded, watching as the tattoos glowed with a steady light. He took a deep breath, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety.

"Tell them the best time to strike is tomorrow night," he said, his voice steady.

"During the shift change. That's when their numbers are lowest, and the guards are tired. It's the best shot they've got."

<Understood. Your recommendation will be communicated. Queen Elowen's strategic abilities are... exceptional. She will undoubtedly devise the most efficient plan for an ambush.>

Mikhailis smiled, a warmth spreading through him at the mention of Elowen.

"Yeah, I know. She's brilliant. She'll make this work."

For a few minutes, there was silence. Mikhailis stared at the parchment, his mind racing. He thought of the goblins he had led, of the battles he had fought alongside them. And now, he was planning their downfall. It was a strange feeling—one that left a bitter taste in his mouth.

<Mikhailis, Queen Elowen has received the information. She, along with other commanders, is preparing the ambush. They are utilizing the ecological characteristics of the Thalorian goblins, as I have tailored for her.>

Mikhailis let out a slow breath, nodding.

"Good. That's good."

He paused, the weight of what was happening settling on his shoulders. He knew the risks involved. If Elowen's forces failed, the goblins would become even more aggressive, and his position might be compromised. He thought of Lira, who was protecting his human body. She must have been surprised when he suddenly fell into a coma. He felt a pang of guilt for dragging her into this situation.

They must have been terrified as I suddenly got into a coma, he thought, his heart heavy. Experience more on empire

And here I am, hiding in a goblin body, trying to play the hero.

He also thought of the goblins he had led. Despite everything, they had begun to see him as a leader. They had trusted him, followed his orders, even looked up to him. And now, many of them might die in the ambush he was helping to orchestrate.

They're just goblins, he reminded himself, trying to harden his resolve.

They're the enemy. They've killed countless humans. This is for the kingdom. This is for Elowen.

But the thoughts wouldn't leave him. The faces of the goblins, the way they had cheered for him after the hunt, the way they had followed his orders without question—it all weighed on him.

He clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. He had to stay focused. His priority was to reunite with Elowen and protect the kingdom. His loyalty lay with the humans, no matter what. He couldn't afford to let emotions get in the way.

"Alright, let's get this done," he muttered, pushing himself to his feet.

He made his way out of the storeroom, his body protesting every movement. He had to maintain his cover until the ambush happened. He couldn't let anyone suspect that he was anything more than just another goblin.

As he approached his goblin subordinates, he put on his best "idiotic goblin leader" face, grinning widely.

"Alright, you lot," he said, his voice loud and gruff, "get ready for patrols! Move your lazy hides!"

The goblins scrambled to obey, their eyes wide with a mix of fear and respect. Mikhailis watched them, his expression serious as he gave out instructions. He made sure to assign them to patrol routes that would keep them away from the main areas of the ambush. He couldn't save them all, but he could at least try to protect some of them.

Just as he finished giving out instructions, one of the Goblin Champions approached, his massive form looming over Mikhailis. The Champion's eyes were sharp, his expression unreadable.

"Apostle... call meeting. Leaders... go now."

Meetings...?

Mikhailis nodded, his heart pounding. "Me... go," he said, keeping his voice simple, trying to sound as goblin-like as possible.

The Champion grunted, turning and leading the way. Mikhailis followed, his mind racing. A meeting with the Goblin Apostle could be dangerous. He had to be careful, had to make sure he didn't give anything away.

The meeting was held in the main hall of the fortress, the Goblin Apostle seated on his twisted throne. The other leaders—Goblin Champions, shamans, and a few other hobgoblins—stood around, their eyes fixed on the Apostle.

The Apostle's gaze swept over them, his dark aura radiating authority.

"Humans... attack. Patrols... increase. No weakness... no rest. All... fight."

The goblin leaders nodded, their expressions serious. Mikhailis kept his head down, pretending to listen intently while actually noting everything that was being said. The Apostle was clearly uneasy. The recent encounters with the humans had shaken the goblins, and now they were increasing patrols, tightening defenses.

Makes sense, Mikhailis thought, his eyes flickering towards the other leaders.

They're scared. They know the humans are getting bolder.

He had to think on his feet, adjusting his plans on the fly. He mentally noted which goblin groups would need to be diverted or distracted during the ambush. He would have to be careful—one wrong move, and the entire plan could fall apart.

After the meeting, Mikhailis returned to his group, his mind buzzing with new information. He gave out new instructions, adjusting the patrol routes to account for the Apostle's orders. He made sure his group would be in positions that would keep them safe, away from the main areas of the ambush.

Just a little longer, he thought, his eyes narrowing.

Just hold on until tomorrow night.

As night fell, Mikhailis found himself alone, the weight of what was about to happen pressing down on him. He made his way to a secluded spot, away from the other goblins. The moonlight filtered through the cracks in the fortress walls, casting a pale glow on the ground.

He reached out to Rodion, his tattoos glowing faintly in the darkness.

"Rodion," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

"Is everything in place?"

<Affirmative. Queen Elowen is personally overseeing the ambush preparations. They are counting on you to ensure the goblins are as unprepared as possible.>

Mikhailis nodded, his heart pounding. He could feel the tension building, the fear, the anticipation. Everything hinged on this. If they succeeded, he would be one step closer to reuniting with Elowen. If they failed... he didn't want to think about that.

"Okay," he said, his voice steady. "This will be the end."