Krakk was never like the other goblins. He was smaller, weaker, and even his war grunts sounded more like sneezes. If his goblin brothers were rabid rats, Krakk was the mouse carrying a blade of grass like it was a spear. Life in the goblin village wasn't easy for him; he was the laughingstock of everyone.
"Krakk, you useless thing!" shouted Grug, the most muscular goblin in the village, as he held a pumpkin-sized rock in one hand and Krakk by the ears with the other. "How is a weakling like you going to survive? Not even the rats respect you!"
One night, while exploring beyond the permitted territory, he found a hidden cave where a faded cave painting showed a great goblin with a crown of bones, surrounded by hordes of subjects. Something inside him awoke.
"Goblin... king," he murmured reverently, touching the painting. From that moment on, he had one goal: not just to survive, but to become the ruler of all goblins.
Krakk grumbled to himself, dreaming of the day he would become strong. But being a goblin with dreams was practically a crime. No one in the village knew how to become the Goblin King. Was it a matter of strength? Cunning? A magical potion that fell from the sky? No one had a clue, but that didn't stop Krakk from loudly announcing his ambition.
"Krakk be Goblin King!" he shouted one night, standing on a rotten log. The other goblins surrounded him, some laughing and others throwing food scraps or their own feces at him.
"Krakk, Goblin King of the mice!" a goblin jeered while waving a piece of moldy cheese.
"I will be greater than all of you!" Krakk insisted, hitting the log with his fist. The log split in two, and Krakk fell backward into the mud, causing an explosion of laughter. But in his mind, that fall wasn't a failure; it was just the beginning of his rise to power.
The opportunity came the day Krakk faced a clumsy human in the forest. The human, clearly scared, tried to fight. Krakk dodged his attacks more by instinct than skill. And then, in an unexpected turn, the human tripped over a root and left his sword stuck in a tree. Before anyone else could claim it, Krakk grabbed it.
The heavy blade almost knocked him over, but the glint of the steel in his hand made the other goblins fall silent. For the first time, Krakk wasn't the weakling, but the conqueror. He raised the sword over his head and shouted with all the strength he had:
"Krakk... strong! Krakk... hero!"
With the sword in his hand and victory in the air, Krakk felt imbued with a new purpose. When the goblins of the village lifted him onto their shoulders (or at least tried to; the sword was too heavy), Krakk believed he was destined for greatness.
But life as an aspiring goblin king wasn't what he expected.
The goblins, confused at first, began to applaud and cheer. Krakk, the outcast, had defeated a human. That night, they celebrated him as if he were a champion. And for the first time, Krakk felt what respect was, even if it was superficial.
From then on, Krakk changed. He practiced with the sword day and night, even though it was too big and heavy for him. When the goblins mocked him, he reminded them of his "victory" over the human. He convinced himself that he was invincible, that his destiny was to become the Goblin King. His speeches inspired the others, who began to follow him not just for his sword, but for his growing charisma.