Chapter 33

Chapter 33: Chapter 33

"I’m not ordering anyone to come with me," Satou continued. "In fact, I’d prefer most of you stay here. But I need a small group to make the challenge look legitimate. Three or four Hobgoblins to serve as my... entourage, I guess. To make it clear I’m serious and not just a crazy goblin with a death wish."

"I’m going," Grimnir said immediately.

"Me too," Lyra added.

"And us," Jessica and Kelvin said in unison, their expressions leaving no room for argument.

Satou wanted to refuse them—wanted to keep the siblings safe in the cave where nothing could hurt them. But he also understood that protecting them meant letting them grow stronger, letting them face danger when necessary.

"Fine," he said after a moment. "The five of us go. Everyone else stays here and prepares for the worst. If we’re not back by nightfall, assume we failed and evacuate immediately."

The next few hours were a blur of activity.

Satou spent what little mana he had on naming two more fighters—bringing the total number of Hobgoblins to eleven—and then focused on preparing himself mentally for what was coming. He tested different combinations of his skills, trying to understand how they might work together in combat.

Earth Manipulation could create obstacles or uneven terrain to throw off an opponent’s footing. Stone Spit provided ranged attacks. Poison Fang was useful if he could get close enough to bite. And his various enhancement skills—the wolf senses, the pack leader instincts, the predator’s gaze—all provided passive benefits that might add up to enough of an advantage.

But he was still a juvenile goblin facing an adult orc chieftain. The size and strength difference alone was enormous.

I need every edge I can get.

As the sun climbed toward its peak, Satou gathered his small group near the cave entrance. Grimnir wore his best armor—crude by human standards but functional. Lyra carried a bow and a quiver of arrows. Jessica and Kelvin each wielded spears they’d been practicing with under Grimnir’s instruction.

And Satou himself wore... not much. A simple leather vest he’d fashioned from wolf hide, pants that had seen better days, and his trusty damaged sword strapped to his side.

He looked more like a refugee than a warrior. Which, to be fair, was accurate.

"Remember the plan," Satou said, addressing the four Hobgoblins. "We approach openly, announce our challenge, and let me handle the talking. If things go wrong, your priority is getting Kira out. Not me. Her first, then escape. Understood?"

They all nodded, though Satou could see the reluctance in their eyes.

"One more thing," Satou added. He activated his Predator’s Gaze skill, feeling it settle over him like a mantle of authority. His presence became more imposing, more dangerous, despite his small size. "No matter what happens, act confident. These orcs need to believe we’re a legitimate threat, not desperate prey. Sell it with everything you have."

"We will," Grimnir promised.

With no more delays possible, the group set out.

The three-mile journey through the forest felt both endless and far too short. Satou’s enhanced senses picked up everything—the rustle of leaves, the distant calls of birds, the subtle scents carried on the wind. His Tremor Sense told him where every creature within range was moving.

And as they approached the orc settlement, those senses went into overdrive.

The settlement was larger in daylight than it had appeared at night. The wooden palisade stood at least fifteen feet high, made from logs sharpened to points at the top. Guard towers flanked the main gate, and Satou could see at least four orc sentries watching their approach.

The gates themselves were massive—thick wood reinforced with iron bands, currently standing open to allow traffic in and out.

"This is it," Satou muttered. "Everyone ready?"

"As we’ll ever be," Lyra replied.

They walked forward openly, making no attempt to hide. The orc guards spotted them immediately, and Satou saw weapons being raised, heard the alarm being called.

Within seconds, twenty orc warriors had poured out of the settlement, forming a semicircle around the gate with weapons drawn. They were massive up close—each one standing at least seven feet tall, with muscles that looked carved from stone and tusks jutting from their lower jaws.

One orc stepped forward, clearly the leader of this particular group. He wore better armor than the others—actual metal instead of just leather and bone—and carried a wickedly curved blade that looked like it could cleave a horse in half.

He spoke in the orcish language, his voice a deep rumble that Satou’s Goblin Translation skill couldn’t parse.

But one of the other orcs,a younger one with slightly better Common tongue translated.

"The captain asks what business goblins have approaching our territory," the translator said. "He suggests you turn around and run before he decorates the palisade with your heads."

Satou stepped forward, his Predator’s Gaze skill fully active. He met the captain’s eyes without flinching.

"Tell your captain that I’ve come to challenge your chieftain to single combat," Satou said clearly, his voice carrying across the assembled orcs. "By the laws of trial by combat, I demand the right to face him."

The translator blinked in surprise, then relayed the message in orcish. The response was immediate—several orcs burst into laughter, the sound harsh and mocking.

The captain’s response, when translated, dripped with contempt. "A goblin? Challenging Chieftain Urgak? You’re either very brave or very stupid. Probably both. What makes you think you have the right to demand anything?"

"I have the right because I’m strong enough to claim it," Satou replied. "Or are orcs so weak now that they fear challenges from those they consider lesser? Has your mighty chieftain grown soft?"

The laughter died immediately. Several orcs growled, hands tightening on weapons. Insulting an orc’s strength was a serious offense.

But Satou had calculated this carefully. He needed them angry enough to take him seriously, but not so angry they just killed him on the spot.

The captain’s eyes narrowed dangerously. "You dare insult Chieftain Urgak? I should cut you down where you stand, goblin."

"Then do it," Satou said, spreading his arms wide. "Prove that orcs have abandoned honor and now just murder unarmed challengers. I’m sure the other tribes will be very impressed by your courage."

It was a gamble. Everything he’d learned about orc culture suggested they valued honor and strength above all else. But if he’d misread them, if these particular orcs didn’t care about their reputation...

The captain stared at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

Then he spat on the ground and sheathed his weapon.