Free Web NovelChapter 19: Ashmork Clan Demands
The return journey was far less peaceful than the group had imagined. Every one of them carried something over their shoulders. Freshly hunted meat, bundles of medicinal herbs, edible fruits, sturdy branches suitable for spear shafts, and several useful vines were wrapped tightly inside large pieces of cloth. Since Ru’k had nearly gotten them all trampled to death by provoking a herd of Thornback Boars, the group unanimously decided he deserved the heaviest load.
Ru’k staggered beneath the weight with an expression of pure injustice.
"You people are abusing authority," he complained while adjusting the enormous bundle threatening to slide off his shoulder. "One tiny mistake and suddenly I’m the colony’s personal pack mule."
"Tiny?" Ka’z glanced at him with narrowed eyes. "You almost introduced us to our ancestors."
"I prefer to think of it as an unexpected team building exercise."
"It was attempted murder."
"It built character."
"It almost flattened Kurg."
Ru’k looked toward Kurg, who immediately nodded several times.
"I almost died," Kurg added earnestly.
Ru’k clicked his tongue.
"So dramatic."
Even Tu’ka let out a quiet sigh while Za’r rubbed her temples. Somehow Ru’k always managed to sound innocent even when he was undeniably guilty.
The laughter gradually faded as familiar landmarks began appearing through the trees. They were approaching the outer boundary of Vaal’kor territory. The watchtowers they had helped construct over the past year slowly came into view between the dense foliage.
Ka’z was about to relax when he noticed movement ahead. His expression immediately hardened.
Seven enormous boars stood beyond the outer ditch.
These were nothing like the Thornback Boars they had escaped earlier. Their bodies were leaner, standing nearly four feet tall at the shoulder, their striped hides resembling great forest tigers. Thick muscles rolled beneath their skin with every movement while massive tusks protruded from powerful jaws. Each carried a goblin rider armed with long wooden spears tipped by jagged stone heads darkened from old blood.
The riders themselves were even more intimidating.
Every goblin possessed a thick muscular build that dwarfed the ones Ka’z and his companions had killed only days ago. Their green skin was covered beneath layers of stitched animal pelts reinforced with crude bone plates. Numerous scars covered their arms and torsos, proof that these were experienced warriors rather than reckless raiders.
Ding.
[Inspection Successful]
[Hobo Goblin Rider]
[Faction: Ashmork]
[Faction Stage: Village]
[Core: Bronze]
The familiar blue panels continued appearing one after another as Ka’z’s gaze shifted across each mounted goblin.
Every single one of them are were bronze Core. Meaning these steroid taking goblins are their normal soldiers?
His heartbeat accelerated as his eyes settled upon the figure leading them.
Unlike the others, the leader possessed a surprisingly thin frame. He looked almost frail compared to the muscular riders surrounding him, yet somehow his presence overwhelmed all of them.
He wore a crimson skirt fashioned from dyed beast hide while crude symbols had been carved directly into his flesh. Some had healed into thick scars while others appeared freshly reopened, slowly oozing blood down his chest and arms.
Resting atop his head was a grotesque crown fashioned from the lower jawbone of some enormous feline beast.
His smile carried an unsettling calm.
Ding.
[Inspection Successful]
[Goblin Blood Shaman]
[Faction: Ashmork]
[Faction Stage: Village]
[Core: Iron]
[Element: Blood]
Buzz.
Ka’z’s pupils contracted.
An Iron Core magic beast of the Goblin race!
He instinctively tightened his fists.
At almost the same moment, every striped boar lifted its head toward the forest. Their nostrils flared before deep threatening grunts echoed across the clearing.
The goblin riders slowly turned.
Their eyes settled upon Ka’z’s group.
"So there are more of them," one rider grunted dismissively before pulling on the reins. His mount turned alongside the others until all seven faced the young kobolds directly. Spears lowered in unison.
"They’re here..." Za’r whispered, staggering backward.
Kurg instinctively hid behind Ka’z, only his trembling eyes peeking around his shoulder.
Tu’ka calmly stepped forward.
Without saying a word, he removed the broken spear strapped across his back.
Ka’z’s claws slowly curled into fists and flames ignited around them with a low roar.
The Goblin Blood Shaman merely observed the children for several silent seconds. His crimson eyes lingered on Ka’z slightly longer than the others before dismissing them entirely.
Instead, he shifted his attention toward the elderly kobold standing before him.
O’nil.
The aged chieftain stood with both hands resting atop his walking staff, his posture slightly bent from age yet completely unmoved by the hostile warriors before him.
The Blood Shaman smiled.
"As I said before," he began calmly, "our Ashmork Clan demands compensation for the deaths of our five brothers."
He slowly raised one finger.
"Fifteen slaves."
His smile widened.
"Preferably women."
Behind him, the mounted goblins burst into loud mocking laughter. The Blood Shaman waited patiently until their laughter settled before continuing.
"And five quality Low Grade Aether Core Crystals."
An angry murmur swept through the gathered kobolds.
Several hunters gripped their weapons tighter while ordinary workers struggled to contain their outrage.
O’nil slowly raised one hand and silence immediately returned. His weathered eyes met those of the Goblin Blood Shaman.
"And the woman your people raped, tortured, and murdered," O’nil asked quietly. "What reparations will your people offer mine?"
For the first time, the Blood Shaman frowned.
He leaned forward upon his boar, looking down at the elderly kobold as though addressing a child.
"As none of us witnessed this supposed crime, we cannot confirm your accusations are truthful."
He casually gestured toward the watchtowers.
"What we can confirm are the heads of our brothers."
His finger pointed toward the five severed goblin heads impaled upon sharpened stakes overlooking the border.
His grin slowly returned.
"Those crimes we have witnessed."
Hostile hisses erupted throughout the kobold crowd. Several warriors bared their fangs while others tightened their grips upon spears and bows.
The Goblin Blood Shaman only seemed more amused.
"So," he continued with almost playful curiosity, "will your people pay... or shall our clans go to war?"
"Outrageous!"
"Bastard!"
"You dare demand slaves?"
The insults came from every direction.
None of them affected the Blood Shaman in the slightest. His attention never left O’nil. The elderly chieftain remained silent for several long seconds.
His face betrayed no anger or fear, only quiet contemplation.
Finally...
He nodded once.
"Then war it is."
He turned around
Buzz.
The Goblin Blood Shaman blinked. Until that moment, he had mistaken O’nil’s calm demeanor for weakness.
Only now did he understand the old kobold had never been afraid. His soft spoken and gentle traits were simply his nature.
O’nil began walking back toward the colony without once looking behind him.
"Since our clans are now at war there is no further need for my people to be polite."
His voice never rose above its usual calm tone as he continued walking.
"Tud’or."
The massive warrior stepped forward, rolling his shoulders as a savage grin spread across his face.
"See to it...that they join their friends on the pikes." O’nil said quietly, never looking back or slowing down for a moment.
