The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

The sun was just beginning to rise over the twisted peaks of the goblin fortress. Mikhailis walked among the other goblins, keeping his posture casual, his eyes half-lidded with an air of disinterest—a perfect mimicry of the relaxed goblin persona he had cultivated. Around him, goblins prepared for their daily routines, readying weapons and tools for hunting and scouting. Their chattering echoed throughout the rough stone walls, carrying a lazy enthusiasm for what seemed to them like just another day.

The goblin fortress, for all its crude construction, was bustling with activity. Mikhailis moved along with the flow of bodies, his mind racing with the plan he'd been putting into motion for the past few days. He weaved between the groups, pretending to look busy while his sharp eyes scanned the area for what he needed.

Let's see... I need to find those mushrooms, he thought, his gaze settling on a cluster of dark, bulbous fungi growing against a damp section of the fortress wall. The perfect ingredient for the poison he was brewing in secret. He crouched down, pretending to tie the strap on his boot, and deftly plucked a handful of the mushrooms, tucking them into the folds of his tunic.

His movements were careful and deliberate, always making sure no goblin was watching. It was the perfect morning for gathering what he needed—everyone was preoccupied, and their trust in him made them far less suspicious. He moved on, his eyes now searching for another ingredient.

Ah, there they are... He spotted a patch of weeds growing beside one of the cooking pits. The goblins often used these for seasoning, but if handled the right way, they could become something far more dangerous. He sauntered over, making a show of sniffing them as if considering their quality. He casually plucked a few, slipping them into his tunic as he made a face like they weren't good enough for his supposed dish.

He moved with purpose now, seeking out the last few things he needed. His mind was focused, calculating each step, each glance. He was a stranger in this world—a human in a goblin body—and this plan was risky, dangerous even. But it was the best way to ensure the goblin forces were weak enough for Elowen's attack to succeed. He had no intention of fighting these monsters alone. He needed Elowen, and this was the way to bring her forces to victory.

"You, what you do?" One of the hobgoblins called out to him, its voice as gruff as its posture.

Mikhailis plastered on a wide grin, showing his teeth.

"Me look... for food! Better food... tonight's feast. Good food... make strong goblins!"

The hobgoblin nodded, seemingly satisfied.

"Good. You make... good food."

Mikhailis gave a short nod, keeping his expression open and simple. As the hobgoblin turned away, he let out a small sigh of relief.

Phew, too close.

He shook his head, glancing around to make sure no one else was watching him too closely.

The day dragged on, the goblins scattering to their hunting and scouting parties as they always did. Mikhailis took part, blending in seamlessly, playing his role as a goblin leader with his usual blend of authority and playful humor. But all the while, his mind was on the task ahead—gathering, preparing, and planning. His collected ingredients were tucked away in a small pouch he'd fashioned from an old piece of cloth, hidden beneath a pile of wood near the cooking area.

He watched as the sun began its descent, the sky tinged with orange and red. The goblins returned to the fortress, bringing with them the spoils of their hunt—boars, deer, even a few birds. Their laughter and rough banter echoed through the courtyard as they prepared for the evening feast.

Mikhailis slipped away to retrieve his hidden pouch. He could hear the goblins in the distance, their voices a chaotic blend of excitement for the upcoming meal. He opened the pouch, his eyes narrowing slightly as he examined his collection. He had the mushrooms, the weeds, and even a few wild berries that, when crushed, would enhance the potency of the poison.

Time to get cooking, he thought, his lips twitching into a small, wry smile.

___

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the goblins gathered in the courtyard. Fires were lit, and the smell of roasting meat filled the air. Mikhailis moved among them, taking charge of the food preparation as he had done before. The goblins had grown to respect him for his cooking skills, and no one questioned his authority over the evening feast.

He worked quickly, his hands moving with practiced ease as he prepared the meat, chopping and seasoning it with the herbs and spices the goblins had gathered. His expression was calm, focused, as he mixed in the poisonous ingredients. He made sure to use just enough to weaken the goblins—not enough to kill them. He needed them incapacitated, slow, unable to defend themselves properly when the attack came.

One of the goblins, a younger one with a missing tooth, waddled over to him, sniffing at the pot.

"Mikhalis... food smell good. What you put... in it?"

Mikhailis gave a wide grin, leaning down to the goblin's level.

"Secret... ingredient. Make strong! Make goblins... best fighters!"n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

The young goblin's eyes widened, and it nodded eagerly.

"Me want! Me eat lot!"

"You eat lot," Mikhailis agreed, giving the goblin a pat on the head before turning back to the pot. He stirred the mixture, watching as the meat sizzled, the herbs and spices mingling with the poison.

As the other goblins began to gather around, Mikhailis kept his demeanor relaxed, casual. He made jokes, laughed loudly, and even teased a few of the hobgoblins who were eyeing the food with hunger. The goblins, tired from the day's work and lulled by the smell of the cooking food, didn't notice anything amiss. They trusted him, and that trust made his job far easier.

When the food was finally ready, Mikhailis began serving it, making sure each goblin got a portion. He took care to serve himself only a small amount, enough to keep up appearances without ingesting enough of the poison to affect him. He sat with the other goblins, eating slowly, watching as they devoured their portions with gusto.

The effects of the poison didn't show immediately. The goblins laughed, talked, and ate as they always did, their voices echoing through the courtyard. But slowly, Mikhailis began to notice the change. The laughter grew softer, the conversations more sluggish. One of the goblins, a particularly large one, let out a loud yawn, his eyes drooping as he tried to keep up with the conversation.

Another goblin, sitting across from Mikhailis, blinked slowly, his head swaying slightly as if he were struggling to stay awake. Mikhailis took a sip from his cup, hiding the small smile that tugged at his lips.

It's working, he thought, his eyes scanning the courtyard. He watched as the goblins' movements grew slower, their voices slurred. Some of them leaned back, their eyes half-closed, while others simply stared at their food, blinking as if they couldn't quite comprehend what was happening.

Mikhailis felt a pang of guilt as he watched them. These goblins had trusted him, followed him, even looked up to him. And now he was betraying that trust, poisoning them for the sake of the humans. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to remember why he was doing this.

This is for Elowen. For the kingdom. For everyone these monsters have hurt.

He forced himself to eat a little more, keeping up the act, making sure none of the goblins suspected anything. Around him, the goblins continued to eat, their movements growing more sluggish by the minute. The courtyard, once filled with laughter and chatter, grew quiet, the goblins too tired to keep up their usual energy.

Mikhailis set his bowl aside, leaning back against the rough stone wall behind him. He watched as the goblins began to drift off, some of them slumping over where they sat, others leaning against each other. The poison had worked perfectly—they were weakened, too sluggish to fight, too tired to react quickly to what was about to come.

The sun had fully set by now, the sky a deep, dark blue, the stars beginning to peek through the darkness. Mikhailis took a deep breath, his eyes shifting towards the fortress gates.

It's time.

The night was still, the air thick with tension as the forces of Queen Elowen, Earl Vaelis, and the soldiers from the northern province took their positions on the outskirts of the goblin fortress. They moved silently, their armor glinting faintly in the moonlight, their eyes focused on the walls of the fortress. The archers nocked their arrows, their bows drawn, waiting for the signal to attack.

Mikhailis stood at the edge of the courtyard, his eyes scanning the darkness beyond the gates. He could feel it—the anticipation, the fear, the adrenaline. He knew they were out there, waiting, ready to strike. He took a deep breath, steadying himself.

Suddenly, the first arrow flew, cutting through the air with a sharp whistle. It struck one of the goblin guards at the gate, the force of the impact sending the creature sprawling to the ground. The goblins in the courtyard stirred, their heads lifting slowly, their eyes wide with confusion.

More arrows followed, raining down from above, striking the goblins before they had a chance to react. The soldiers moved in, their swords drawn, their shields raised. Mikhailis watched as the goblins tried to stand, their movements slow, uncoordinated. The poison had done its job—they were too weak to fight, too sluggish to defend themselves.

He could see Queen Elowen at the forefront, her presence commanding as she led her soldiers into the courtyard. Her armor shone in the moonlight, her eyes fierce and determined. Beside her was Earl Vaelis, his expression grim, his sword cutting through the goblin forces with precision. And there, leading the frontline, was Vyrelda, her blade flashing as she moved with a deadly grace.

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Mikhailis felt a shiver run down his spine as he watched Vyrelda fight. She was relentless, her strikes precise, her movements fluid. He was grateful that he wasn't in her path this time. He had barely survived their last encounter, and he had no desire to face her again.

The goblins fell one by one, their weakened bodies no match for the trained soldiers. Mikhailis watched, his heart pounding in his chest. He felt a mix of emotions—relief that the plan was working, hope that this nightmare might finally be coming to an end, and a deep yearning as his eyes settled on Elowen.

Elowen... He felt his chest tighten, the sight of her filling him with a sense of purpose. He wanted to be by her side again, to protect her, to fight for her. This was his chance—their chance—to end this.

I've done my part. It's time for the next phase.