Chapter 183 Wager of Shiny Coins

Hermit continued his tale with a twisted face, even as his muscles burned from the strenuous squats.

"Ah, but there be more, Master, much more," Hermit rasped out.

 "After the fire dance, they introduced the sittin' on a torch game. The vile, twisted-minded bandits, guzzled down their foul brews and feasted on whatever delicious scraps they had. When their brutish laughter died down, it was Hermit they turned to, their favorite source of twisted amusement."

"One of 'em, he drove a pitiful torch into the ground, its feeble flame flickering hot. The filthy scoundrels began to wager shiny coins, betting on how low I could squat onto that burning torch before snuffing the flame. They promised me freedom if I could sit on it and snuff the fire out. But I had no other choice, Master, none at all. Brutal beatings if I resist. So, I had to give it a try."

"And? Did you earn your freedom?" Suzuka asked, barely holding in her laughter as she added some weights to her squats.

Hermit's eyes gleamed with pain as he continued his tale, sharing the gruesome details.

"Master, I'll tell you what happened next," Hermit whimpered.

 "I inched closer to that cursed torch, the flames lickin' at the very air I breathed. My heart pounded like a drum in a goblin war dance, and sweat dripped from my brow like the foulest swamp ooze. The smoky stench of my sizzling flesh burned my sniffer."

"The bandits cackled and jeered, their eyes glinted with nastiness as they waved their shiny coins like trophies. They chanted for me to sit, to squat, to earn me freedom. So, I gritted my teeth, summoned all the will I'd ever had, and lowered myself onto that sizzling torch."

Hermit's voice quivered with the intensity of the memory, making it sound even more eerie.

"The moment I touched that accursed torch, Master, agony surged through me like a thunderstorm. My butt flesh sizzled and crackled, the blisters popped with squelching sounds, and I let out a scream that could curdle the blood of the fiercest ogre. The bandits roared with laughter, their eyes danced with sadistic delight. They threw their cups with drinks and garbage at me all while making fun of me."

Hermit took a quivering deep breath before continuing, "But I didn't give in, Master. No, I summoned every ounce of strength in me, pushed through the searing pain, and squatted lower and lower. The flames, they fought me with all their fiery might, but I was desperate to snuff them out with my buttcheeks."

Suzuka urged Hermit on, "And? Did you do it? Did you extinguish that flame and win your freedom? Or did you just enjoy your butt getting cooked?"

"Yes, Master, I did manage to snuff that tormenting flame with me clenchin' buttcheeks," Hermit admitted, his words filled with bitter resignation. 

With a quivering and sorrowful voice Hermit continued, "But victory brought me no saving. The bandits who had lost their cursed bet, were furious, and they unleashed their wrath upon me with a fury that only evil goblins can muster. They beat me, Master, until my body was naught but a pile of broken bones and bruised flesh."

"As for the fiends who had won, they reveled in inventing new, even more painful games to torture me with. There was no freedom to be found, just more agony. All I gained from that cursed torch were charred and burned buttcheeks, and a deeper understanding of the cruelty that festers in the hearts of bandits."

Suzuka smiled and said with a sarcastic tone, "Yeah! Well, I expected that much. Good old bandits, am I right? Huh? Right?"

Hermit's tale took a dark turn, his voice was heavy with the weight of his past suffering.

"But the worst part, Master, was when they made me swallow hot embers from their roaring bonfire. They said it was a test of goblin resilience, to see if I was able to eat fire. I'll tell ya, it felt like a dragon was roosting in my gut, breathing out the fire embers with every breath. I cried and begged but it only fueled their amusement."

Suzuka's grin widened as she soaked in the grotesque details of the story, reveling in the darkness of it all. 

"So! What did you do, Hermit? How did you escape those fiendish bandits? Or did you stay for some more goblin fun?"

Hermit's beady goblin eyes glinted with a mix of cunning and pride, "Ah, Master, I may be little, but I've got a noggin of few tricks. I faked my own death, I did. Pretended to keel over from the heat and pain, and they thought they'd finally broken me. I held my breath even when I turned blue from suffocation, I did not move even when they poked me with a stick. My body stench was unbearable and they left me for dead by the bush. But as soon as they were out of sight, I slipped away into the shadows, nursin' me burns and scars with some mucky dirt and a big leaf on my butt."

Hermit's scrawny legs finally gave in to the relentless torment, and he crumpled to the ground, panting and wheezing in sheer exhaustion.

 "Master, I can't go on any longer. Please, no more squats," he begged, his goblin voice now strained and weary.

Suzuka, still recovering from her own set of squats, re-racked the weights with a hint of impressed approval.

 "Well, I have to admit, for a first day in the training room, you did better than I expected. You just might become a bit stronger."

Hermit's grotesque face lit up with an eerie joy, his cracked, yellow teeth forming a twisted grin that stretched from ear to ear. 

"Really, Master? When will Hermit become a strong goblin?" He yelped in joy.

Suzuka chuckled softly, her tone carrying a hint of honesty, "If you keep up this pace every day, maybe in six months or so. Maybe..."

Hermit's jubilant expression crumbled like a fragile twig in the wind. Sitting there on the cold ground, he counted the days and months on his gnarled, calloused fingers. After a moment of calculating, his realization hit him like a boulder to the gut. 

"B-but Master! That's too long! Hermit can't endure these tortures every day. Nuh-uhh! Can't it be in just a few days, maybe? Poor arms feel like falling off and poor walking sticks feel like snapping! Hermit can't do this every day." His goblin eyes pleaded desperately, like a creature caught in a trap.

Suzuka's voice took on a more serious tone as she shared her wisdom with Hermit, "Nobody said it is easy to become strong, Hermit. Strength requires hard work and dedication. Even then, many may never achieve the results they desire. But you won't know unless you try. Look, hard work out and a delicious meal is the best way to build up your strength. Give it a go for a few days."

Hermit whimpered even more, his goblin-like features contorted in anguish.

 "Oowie! What if all this pain leads to nothin'? What if I stay a weak, pitiful goblin, forever crushed, laughed at, and spat upon? We goblins, we're cursed by all, hated by everyone... wait... did Master mention foooood?! Oh! Hermit wants food but not the torture!"

Suzuka paused, her eyes studying Hermit's wretched form.

 "But, Hermit, strength doesn't guarantee respect or honor from others. If that's what you crave, show them your worth through deeds. That's why I offered you a chance to be my errand boy. With me watching your back, no one will dare to cross you in the alleys. With time, some might see you differently... well, not sure what they'll see besides a stinky, wrinkled, and yeah, a downright nasty goblin. But maybe they'll stop chasing after you with torches and forks." 

Hermit's pitiful complaints and whimpers continued, his despair saturating the air with a tangible weight.

"Oowie, Master, but it's just so darn hard," Hermit moaned, his voice quivering with mournful despair, "What if more folks like David come around? All the pain I dished out... and if there are others like him? The suffering and torment, make Hermit want to crawl back into a cold, damp hole and never come out. What if I never earn a shred of respect, and I'm doomed to be the goblin they all point fingers at, laughing as they trample over my shattered body?"

Suzuka's voice held a rare touch of emotion as she responded, "Respect was never meant to be easy, Hermit. It's a savage, monstrous beast that you have to grapple with day in and day out doing good deeds. You've got to clench those gnarly teeth of yours and keep forging ahead. And you know what? Every time you want to throw in the towel, every time you feel like surrendering, that's when you dig deeper. That's how you get respect."

Hermit, in a melodramatic display of goblin-like self-pity, wrapped himself in his ears, seeking comfort from his misery. With a dramatic quiver in his voice, he moaned, "It's a piece of cake for you, Master, to blabber on like that. You ain't a goblin like poor, pitiful me. Master, you're a vision of beauty, a titan of strength, the revered one."

Suzuka wasint going to tolerate such melodrama, she unleashed a thunderous whack upon Hermit's bald head that echoed through the training room. She barked, "You little shit! Do you dare imply my life is a stroll through a field of roses? I was trying to toss you a bone, but enough of that nonsense! Get your sorry hide on your feet and clean the vile mess you've left in the restroom. I ain't touching that filth. How about starting to get respect by cleaning up your own shit you leave everywhere you go!"

Hermit squeaked, the pitch of his wailing hitting a high note, "Wreeee!" He scuttled out of the training room, all the while screeching, "Master Lisanna! Wreeee! Master Lisanna! Master Helen's being a beast to me! She smacked me! Ouchies! Ouwies! Master Helen was mean to me! She hit me! It hurts!"

Bursting out of the room like a wild goblin on fire, he sprinted toward Lisanna, who sat at her reception desk. With all the speed of a startled rabbit, Hermit burst into Lisanna's presence at the reception desk, his tiny arms outstretched in a pitiful plea for comfort. 

"Master! Master! Please! Grace Hermit with a comforting hug, for he is distraught and in agony, ouchies! Master Helen has inflicted ouchies and owies upon me! Please! Grant Hermit a hug, I'm so sad and hurting. Ouchies! Master Helen hurt me! Wree!" he cried, his eyes wide and moist.

Lisanna responded with an icy stare that could freeze magma and spoke in a tone as frigid as the deepest winter night, "Oh, look who's crawled in, a wee baby. What's this? Did you get a teeny-weeny boo-boo, little baby? Hmmm?"

Hermit, shrinking into himself in humiliation, whimpered, "N-no, Master, I was j-just..."

But Lisanna, showing no mercy, cut him off sharply, "J-j-j-just, What? You blabbering filth, what? I know what! How about you go and tackle the disaster you left in the toilet? It's been a foul stench for hours. Be useful for once in your miserable existence and clean your wretched mess! You worthless goblin! I should impale you on the highest spike for the mess you've made!"

Hermit let out another exaggerated wail, "Wreeee!" and began to scuttle toward the toilet, yelping, "I clean! I clean! No more impaling Hermit on spikes! No spikes ever again! Have mercy, I clean, Master!" His cries echoed through the halls, a goblin desperate to avoid spikes.

Hermit, with his goblin-like timidity, scuttled toward the looming door of the restroom. He paused, trembling, as he timidly cracked the door open, his bulbous eyes peering cautiously into the space within, searching for any lurking danger.

 The restroom appeared eerily vacant, the foul stench of Hermit's feces assaulting his sensitive goblin sniffer as he drew in a deep repugnant breath.