CHAPTER 262: UNITY

Despite the oath Zivra swore not to use her abilities against anyone in the clan, I still watched her carefully. I couldn’t help it. Trust didn’t come easily, especially not when someone with her power suddenly switched sides. For all I knew, her allegiance might be a slow-burn ploy—something meant to unravel the clan from within if I ever slipped.

Zivra answered my question without hesitation.

"To meet Talia for an armor," she said. "Gork and Nira are about to go to the forest to hunt monsters and... level. Level up, that’s what they call it. I thought I would join them."

She held her arm with one hand, her gaze drifting aside.

"I’m done with being weak," she said quietly, but her tone carried steel. "I won’t stay like that."

"Alright then," I replied.

But my attention shifted when I noticed Zarah staring at her.

Not suspiciously.

Not angrily.

Just... staring.

At first, I didn’t understand why she was looking that way.

Then it clicked.

The two of them were more alike than I had realized.

Daughters of chiefs.

Leaders in their own right.

Both from clans shattered by an invader, their families and people crushed alongside the weight of loss they now carried.

The only difference was that I—Zivra’s invader—extended a hand to her afterward.

Wait...with Zarah, I did come after it happened and took the place of her father as the clan leader, so it was pretty much the same.

Zarah was still staring so I suggested:

"You should be friends with her."

The words pulled Zarah’s gaze away from Zivra and straight onto me.

Her eyes narrowed, her expression sharpening like a blade sliding out of its sheath.

"No," she said softly.

But the softness was deceptive.

There was weight in that single word.

"Well... that’s alright, I guess," I muttered, suddenly aware of how awkward the air felt. I turned and continued walking, and Zarah fell into step beside me, silent and composed as ever.

Just because they were similar didn’t mean they had to be familiar.

And judging by the look Zarah gave me, it was better not to force it. I had a feeling it would happen naturally anyway.

Zarah walked beside me in silence for a moment before she finally spoke.

"The new members are already going on hunts to get stronger," she said. "When will we go on ours? We cannot fall behind."

Her voice was steady, but the urgency beneath it was clear. Zarah hated stagnancy more than anything. The idea that others were improving while she remained still was something she would never tolerate.

"As soon as we get the garnets," I said, reminding her of the plan we’d already discussed. "Once that’s done, we can focus on hunting."

It wasn’t just an excuse.

Hunting required numbers, strength, and coordination.

But it also meant leaving the clan unguarded.

If every capable goblin marched off into the forest at once, the settlement would be an open invitation for disaster. One enemy raid, one opportunistic attack, and everything we had built could crumble. I couldn’t risk that—not now, not when the Games were so close.

"I want everyone to get stronger," I continued, more to myself than her. "Especially Snib, Krosh, and Zox. I promised them an expedition back in our former shelter."

I remembered clearly—when morale was low, when the world felt too big and too hostile, I gave them something to look forward to. A hunt. A chance to grow.

Just like I once did with Narg, Dribb, Gobbo, and Zonk.

And I intended to keep that promise.

"But first," I said, eyes narrowing slightly at the thought of the chosen who held the spot we needed, "we deal with the Chosen. Take his place in the Games. Secure that position."

Only then could we afford to stretch our strength outward.

Only then could I take everyone on the hunt they deserved—proper, safe, and meant to elevate the entire clan.

"Also," I said, letting my tone drop into something firmer, "what’s with all these we and we type words you just used?"

On the surface, it sounded small, but small things could grow teeth if ignored.

And if I didn’t call it out early, it would root itself into something bigger.

A subtle division.

An unintended rift.

It was as if, in Zarah’s mind, there was still a line between the old members and the new ones—a line that shouldn’t exist. Not in a clan that was supposed to be united under one banner.

"I don’t want any divide between us," I said. "They swore their loyalty. That means the old and the new are now one. The clan is one. I know it’ll take time to get used to everyone, but let’s start with the basics. No more using ’we,’ ’them,’ and ’the new members.’ Not like that."

Zarah absorbed the words quietly, then nodded once.

"Yes, Chief," she said in an understanding tone. "I’ll treat them the same way I treat Thok or Gobbo."

I let out a small breath.

Good.

I had worried she’d take it harshly or feel corrected, but she accepted it well.

"Also," I added, "scold anyone you hear doing the same. I don’t care if it’s Granny Flogga."

"Granny?" Zarah gasped, stopping dead in her tracks. "Chief... are you trying to end my life?"

I kept my face straight, deepening my voice as I said,"With great power comes great responsibility."

She stared at me like I’d personally handed her a death sentence.

I didn’t blame her.Even I wouldn’t enjoy scolding Flogga. The old goblin could crush a man’s spirit with a single glance, and her tongue was sharper than any blade in the clan. If anyone in this settlement had final-boss energy, it was Granny Flogga.

But unfortunately for Zarah...I couldn’t be the one doing the scolding.

Speaking of Flogga, though...

I suddenly found myself curious.I hadn’t checked on her new shed since she moved in, and knowing her, she’d probably brewed something monstrous already—potions, elixirs, concoctions.

With the extra space and proper tools now available to her, she must have been creating all kinds of wicked things.

I honestly couldn’t wait to see.