From Goblin Slave To Giga-Daddy: A Goblin's Guide to Getting a Harem
Chapter 88: Celeste V/S Gear (2)

Chapter 88: Celeste V/S Gear (2)

"Careful there, princess, your fear is leaking outside."

Gear let out a loud laugh, the kind that echoed like a villain with too much free time.

He had just remembered the words of his so-called liege—cryptic, smug, and annoyingly correct—and figured, why not spread a little darkness again?

Just like yesterday. No effort, no strategy.

Just let it seep out like smoke and see who starts choking.

So yeah, he did it. Again.

Did he really think it’d work this time?

Hell no.

He honestly figured the so-called "heroes" were still crying into their pillows somewhere, nursing their ego-shaped bruises after he smacked their asses into next week.

He thought they’d at least take a week off, maybe do a team-building retreat, get a priest to cleanse their shame.

But nope. Here we are.

Face to face.

’Just like he had said.’

Gear stared out over the cliffs with a grin that could cut glass.

His army was on standby, weapons sharpened, monsters extra cranky from being told to wait.

He could unleash them right now and mop the floor with whatever desperate squad of heroes showed up.

Why wait for them to rest, regroup, and come back with actual strategy? That’s just asking for a migraine.

But no, Gear wanted to see if this guy was the real one.

He wanted to test this one last time before he moves in with his army.

And guess what?

It paid off.

After that talk with Rabbi, Gear had been thinking. Like, really thinking.

The kind of thinking that made him stare at walls for hours and question everything, including the meaning of chairs.

The Goblin King’s biggest, juiciest dream?

A kingdom of his own.

A goblin paradise.

All tribes united under one filthy, chaotic banner.

Streets lined with harems, brothels on every corner, bimbos on balconies, and queens tied up in the backrooms. Princesses too. No discrimination.

Everyone gets laid. Everyone’s happy.

It was dumb, disgusting, and wildly ambitious.

And the only thing standing in the way of that wet fever dream?

These damn heroes.

The Goblin King knew it. Everyone knew it.

Everyone knew it.

Hell, even a goblin tadpole could draw the logic map:

Heroes = Problem.

Heroes in shambles = Opportunity.

Heroes dead = Kingdom time, baby.

And right now, the heroes were in ruins.

Bodies battered, morale broken, barely hanging on like soggy paper.

It was the perfect time to strike. Crush them. End the Chapter. Roll credits.

So why?

Why the hell would the same Goblin King—who wanted whore castles and silk-chain harems—tell him to hold back?

Why delay the dream?

It made no sense.

Unless... the King had something else in mind.

Something Gear didn’t see yet.

Something annoying and strategic, like politics or patience.

And then there was one more thing.

The heroes would need a healer if they wanted to recover in days.

No question about that.

But as far as Gear could tell... there wasn’t a single healer with them when they crawled into that pathetic little tent.

And that was exactly why Gear was being unusually chill with this so-called "liege" and his suspiciously calm plan.

If there had been a healer with the heroes, Gear would’ve already kicked down the tent, ripped the roof off, and turned them all into a meat smoothie.

But there wasn’t. Or so he thought.

What Gear didn’t know was that...

While he and his goblin bros were busy chugging mystery liquor and dancing half-naked around the campfire in celebration of their win, someone had shown up.

Someone unexpected.

Alice had ridden the storm.

Literally.

She came crashing through like a divine middle finger, dragging the wind behind her and ready to fix the mess.

"Shut it, you filthy monster!"

Celeste shouted, voice sharp and full of holy sass.

She stood tall, like a pillar of grace and fury, but her body was snitching.

Lips trembling, hands shaking just enough to betray the fear coiling in her gut.

"Haha. You think you’re in any position to order me around?"

Gear let out that same ugly laugh, the kind that made Celeste’s blood boil.

It scraped against her nerves, mocking her with every breath. She was holding on, but barely.

Just a few more laughs, and she might snap like a dry twig under a fat priest.

And as Gear looked at her—proud, pure, trembling with false bravado—his thoughts flicked back to that one chilling prophecy.

’She came... just like he said.’

That part had already come true.

So what about the rest?

’Would turning this pious, beautiful, holier-than-thou little human into a cock-hungry whore really be possible...?’

His grin stretched wider.

Now that would be a miracle.

Gear’s eyes slid down Celeste’s body, slow and shameless.

From the crown of her snowy white hair to the tip of her heels, he drank her in like she was the only glass of water in a burning wasteland.

That hair—pure snow.

Those sharp blue eyes—cold, piercing, and just a little too submissive-looking.

The kind that screamed defiance on the outside but whispered "use me" underneath.

Her cherry lips were pursed in holy rage, but all Gear could think about was how they’d look ruined, wet, and breathless.

Her white-and-blue gown tried its best to be modest, bless its poor fabric heart.

But even divine fashion couldn’t hide what was underneath.

No cleavage on display, sure, but that swell of her chest still pushed through like it was trying to say hello.

Gear licked his lips, slow and nasty.

But it was down below where the real party started.

That thigh slit—dear gods above—high enough to spark wars.

Her leg peeked out with a casual elegance that screamed sin, every step flashing smooth, meaty thigh and pale skin that looked like it had never known dirt.

Gear gulped.

Hard.

Goblins were horny by default—second only to succubi in the official ranking of perverts—and Gear, young and full of unsupervised testosterone, wasn’t built to resist something like this.

His so-called "liege’s plan"?

Suddenly looked better than every dream the goblin tribes had ever scribbled onto their cave walls.

A land of bimbos and brothels?

Pfft. He’d trade all of it for just one night with this holy treat.

Lust bloomed in his eyes like a disease.

His brain fogged. Drool wasn’t just dripping—it was flooding the mental floor.

Meanwhile, Celeste caught the full brunt of his nasty, drooling gaze.

Her eye twitched. Then she scowled. Then she bared her teeth like a rabid angel.

"How dare you look at me with your filthy, lustful gaze?!"

She was practically on fire.

Fuming, furious, ready to baptize his face in righteous pain.

She hated this kind of man.

Hated that stare.

Hated that smug smirk.

Hell, she hated anything remotely related to sex.

The whole topic made her skin crawl.

For her, it was nothing more than a biological exchange—procreation, pure and dry. No romance. No pleasure. Just a chore wrapped in flesh.

And right now? She had zero desire to procreate. With anyone. Especially not a drooling goblin freak with anger issues and visible thirst.

But she knew what lust could do to a man.

She’d read the stories.

The strongest warriors, kings, even saints—reduced to ashes by their own craving. Lust was a battlefield far deadlier than any war.

She wouldn’t be one of them.

Not now. Not ever.

’Be gentle like a breeze in the flame... fan it, change its direction, and make it yours.’

She repeated the mantra in her head, the words her father had whispered into her ears since she was a child.

It had carried her through trials, through traps, through politics and pain.

It would carry her now.

"Pff... woman, you think you’re in a position to bark back at me?"

Gear flexed his neck, bones cracking loud and sharp.

The dark spear in his hand shimmered like it had just tasted something evil and wanted seconds.

Celeste’s eyes flicked toward it. That shimmer. That aura.

She bit her lip.

No matter how calm she looked, she wasn’t stupid.

If a fight broke out here... she wasn’t walking out unscathed.

Maybe not even alive.

’But why did he lure me here? There has to be a reason... I need to at least figure that out.’

Celeste was just about to let loose. Holy wrath, full throttle, no brakes.

But then her brain kicked in like a stern old teacher with a ruler.

Don’t be dumb. Weigh the options. Think. Breathe.

’Be gentle like a breeze...’

The mantra grounded her again.

Her nerves cooled. Her hands stopped shaking. Her eyes—once twitching from pressure—locked in with eerie calm.

The shift was subtle, but sharp. Like a sword sliding back into its sheath.

Gear noticed it.

And so did Rae—hiding behind a tree like a kid stuck in the wrong anime arc.

’Shit... she’s calming down.’

’That’s bad. Real bad.’

’Give her time and she’ll flip the whole battlefield like it’s a chessboard.’

Rae chewed on his lip, full panic mode activated.

He didn’t even know why he was here. Why was he hiding? Why wasn’t he running? Or helping? Or doing literally anything useful?

He didn’t even know the full weight of this battle between goblins and humans.

Hell, he hadn’t even picked a side properly yet.

’What should I do? What should I do???’

And then—ding.

A system message blinked into existence like the universe just got bored of watching him suffer.

[Convert your Lust Points to Level Up Points?]

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