"Ranga... That shall be your name."
My voice rang low and solemn as I looked into the eyes of the wolf at the front of the pack—the first to stand before me, the heir of his fallen father. His fur was a sleek midnight shade, save for the striking white mane that crowned his neck like a mantle. But the most unusual mark of all was the star-shaped symbol etched in deep blue across his forehead.
At the sound of his name, Ranga wagged his tail excitedly, almost like a pup.
A wistful smile tugged at my lips. "This brings me back..."
My mind drifted—2,000 years into the past.
---
Back then, before the gods waged war and all races were scattered into isolation, I ruled from the heart of the monster realm nation, Elarion. On a cold morning in the golden throne hall, a lone child dragon knelt before me, scales shimmering cyan beneath the light of the crystal chandeliers.
"Father," the hatchling said, his long neck lowered in deference. "Please... grant me a name."
I studied him from atop my throne—curious, but silent. His four legs trembled slightly, yet his gaze held steady. There was something noble, something raw and unshaped in him. Something worth acknowledging.
"I shall name you, as you wish," I said coldly—but not unkindly.
---
"Veldenava..." I muttered under my breath as I returned to the present. "That was the name... What ever became of you?"
The village around me had gone quiet. Night had fallen. I sat cross-legged in the center of the Goblin Village, on bare earth beneath the stars. A humble campfire crackled in front of me, warming a modest wooden table upon which sat a steaming bowl of rice.
"He must've exhausted himself naming so many of us all at once," Rigurd, the elder goblin, murmured nearby. He looked on with concern as female goblins fanned me gently.
"To think I'd collapse from fatigue," I chuckled dryly. "Anos would mock me for this."
I closed my eyes, letting the rhythm of the fans lull me. Sleep claimed me soon after.
---
Three days passed.
When I next opened my eyes, I was inside the village chief's hut—a simple structure of woven grass, wood, and stone. Morning sunlight poured in through small gaps in the roof.
"Great Arceus, good morning!" A female voice greeted me.
A tall goblina stood before me. Her figure was curvaceous, her expression soft and nurturing. She knelt respectfully, her hands on her knees. "You seem to be all better, Great Arceus."
She left quickly to summon Rigurd, and I sat up, blinking in confusion. Was there a goblin like her before...?
Moments later, a muscular goblin with white hair entered—the same face as Rigurd, but broader and more refined.
"Rigurd?" I asked, astonished.
"Yes, it is me, Great Arceus!" he replied, voice brimming with pride. "You granted us names—and through them, we evolved!"
He flexed his arms proudly, muscles bulging beneath his newly defined frame. "When a monster receives a name, it undergoes an awakening. We have become stronger, wiser."
"I see..." I muttered. "Such a system exists here."
Suddenly, the hut's entrance burst open. Ranga strode in, now larger than before. A single straight horn protruded from his forehead.
"Master, I am overjoyed to see you well again," Ranga said, wagging his tail.
"You're... Ranga?" I asked.
"Yes!" he barked enthusiastically. His tail spun so fast it created a vortex of wind, lifting dust and leaves. The force blew off part of the hut's roof.
---
Outside, the entire village had gathered to welcome me. Cheers rang through the trees.
"Great Arceus! Great Arceus!"
I stood atop a raised rock beside Ranga, looking down at the goblins with a quiet sense of satisfaction. "Rigurd. Rigur. Gobta," I murmured, watching them laugh and celebrate.
Through my magic eyes, I peered into their cores. Their auras had shifted.
"The males have become hobgoblins... The females, goblinas. Evolution through naming."
Ranga sat beside me, calm and regal. I turned to him. "I named only you. Why did the others evolve?"
"We dire wolves are one, Master," Ranga explained. "Our bonds transcend names. When I was named, that name echoed through our pack. It became our clan's name."
"I see. A shared identity... A collective evolution."
"We are no longer dire wolves," he added proudly. "We are now Tempest Wolves."
Another gust of wind burst from his tail as he wagged it joyfully.
---
Later that day, I summoned all goblins and wolves to the village center. I stood before them, flanked by Elder Rigurd and Ranga.
"We are now a unified tribe," I began. "With unity comes responsibility. Therefore, I shall establish three rules to guide us."
They listened in silence.
"First: You shall not attack humans."
Some goblins looked confused. Rigur raised his hand.
"Why, Great Arceus? Are they not dangerous to us?"
Rigurd flinched at the question, but I raised a hand calmly.
"It's a good question," I said. "The answer is simple: I like humans."
Rigur blinked, then nodded solemnly.
"Humans live in communities, just like us. If we remain neutral, we reduce the chance of war. However, should they attack us, and I am absent, you must be strong enough to defend yourselves. Train. Prepare. Survive."
The goblins nodded in understanding.
"Second: No conflict among yourselves. Petty infighting weakens the whole."
"Third: No discrimination between races."
Gobta scratched his head. "What does that mean, Master?"
I smiled gently. "Some of you are stronger now. Do not let power blind you. No race is lesser. Every being has its place in the harmony we build. Respect others as you wish to be respected."
They all bowed their heads.
"Elder Rigurd," I turned to him, "I appoint you as the lord of this village."
Tears welled in Rigurd's eyes. He knelt. "I, Rigurd, accept this duty on pain of death!"
---
That day, I assigned roles: hunters, scouts, gatherers, and guards. The fence was expanded. Watchtowers were built. The village was growing rapidly—but two vital needs remained unmet: housing and clothing.
Sitting outside the newly rebuilt hut, Ranga resting his head on mine, I watched goblins gather wood and vines for repairs.
"Rigurd," I called.
"Yes, Great Arceus?"
"Are there people skilled in construction and textile work nearby?"
"Yes! We've traded with the dwarves of Dwargon. Their craftsmanship is unparalleled."
"Then I shall visit them."
Rigurd bowed deeply. "I will safeguard the village in your absence!"
---
I selected four goblins—each riding their newly evolved Tempest Wolves—and together, we set out for the Dwarven Kingdom of Dwargon. As we left the cheering village behind, I rode atop Ranga at the head of the formation, wind howling past us with each powerful stride.
Our journey had just begun.