Chapter 209: Resolve

Chapter 209: Resolve

For a Chosen, a life of battle wasn’t a possibility—it was a guarantee. Conflict came with the title, like a curse carved into the soul. Killing another Chosen wasn’t just vengeance or ambition; it was progress. Every death meant growth. Every victory meant more power.

You couldn’t hide, not when the mark branded you as prey. Once chosen, you could be tracked, hunted, devoured. The only way to survive in this world was to climb higher than the ones coming for you.

Becoming powerful wasn’t an option—it was the only way out.

Becoming the Goblin King was the only path left.

So I’d just do it.

I’d face whatever came my way, even if it meant fighting through other clans, other Chosen. The thought alone should’ve been daunting, maybe terrifying—but instead, I felt something else stir deep inside me. Excitement.

The idea of clashing against another Chosen, of leading my clan into a battle that could change everything... it ignited something in me that I couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t arrogance—it was instinct. The same primal drive that had carried me this far.

Still, logic cut through the thrill.

Two weeks.

That was all the time I had to meet every requirement—to gather the goblins, strengthen them, build what I needed to even qualify.

Two weeks might not be enough.

But I was going to attempt it regardless.

Failure didn’t matter—inaction did.

One thing that had been gnawing at the back of my mind since the beginning was the lack of purpose. Everything I’d done up until now felt like survival, reaction, instinct. My appearance in this world couldn’t have been random; it felt deliberate, like something or someone had placed me here for a reason I hadn’t yet understood.

Now that I’d finally found a direction—a tangible goal—I wasn’t going to let it slip away. I’d chase it with everything I had, with more determination, more focus, more fire than before.

I activated [Leap]. The world blurred beneath me, the wind slapping against my face before I landed softly on my feet.

Ariel flinched, her claws instinctively raised, flames flaring, before she caught sight of me. Recognition flickered in her eyes, and her tense shoulders relaxed immediately.

"You’re back," she said, voice calm but edged with exhaustion.

I gave a short nod and glanced around, taking in the scene before me.

They were deep in the forest, a clearing surrounded by thick trees. The goblins I’d assigned to her stood—or rather, knelt—in a rough semicircle, their posture subdued and wary. Ariel sat a few feet ahead of them, resting but alert, her eyes constantly scanning the perimeter.

It didn’t take long to piece it together.

They weren’t in the camp anymore.

Ariel must’ve led them out when the black ink began spreading earlier. She’d made the right call.

But then I caught sight of something that made me stop.

Two bodies.

Lying motionless on the forest floor.

I frowned, my jaw tightening as I turned toward Ariel. The look I gave her didn’t need words—it was the kind of stare that demanded an explanation.

She met my gaze, unfazed, and stretched lazily before letting out a yawn. "They tried to run away," she said flatly, her tone devoid of remorse. "So I fried them."

I exhaled slowly, dragging a hand across my face. Of course she did.

What had I expected, leaving her in charge of them?

The ember fox had never exactly been fond of goblins. Her disdain for them was obvious from the beginning—especially after that little incident when she almost torched my own clan members during training. To her, goblins were weak, expendable, barely worth sparing.

Normally, I wouldn’t have cared. If a few strays tried to run, that was their problem. But now... things were different.

I needed numbers.

One of the requirements for the King’s Game was to have a hundred goblins under my banner, and that meant every potential recruit mattered. I couldn’t afford to let bodies pile up over petty discipline or wounded pride.

Killing them wasn’t an option anymore.

Integration was.

"Refrain from killing them from now on," I said, my tone sharp and unwavering. "I need them alive."

Ariel tilted her head toward me, her crimson eyes glinting faintly in the dim light. "I’m not making any promises," she replied coolly, her voice carrying that same careless defiance she always had.

I narrowed my gaze, stepping closer, my voice hardening.

"I’m not joking, Ariel."

For a moment, we just stared at each other.

The air between us grew tense until she finally sighed, rolling her shoulders in that lazy, dismissive way of hers.

"Whatever," she muttered, clearly not thrilled but understanding where the line was drawn.

I turned away, letting the matter drop for now. I’d deal with her attitude later—right now, I had bigger things to focus on.

Then a voice called out.

"The Chief!"

I turned, catching sight of Talia. Her expression was uneasy, and she was clutching her arm as she stepped forward. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed hard before continuing, her voice quieter now.

"Is he... dead?" she asked hesitantly. "I got a notification from the system."

"What do you think?" I replied, my voice calm.

The moment the words left my mouth, the forest erupted into murmurs. Panic spread like a spark through dry leaves.

"The chief is dead."

"He’s really dead?"

"What’s going to happen to us now?"

Their voices overlapped, low and frantic, the sound of fear rippling through the group. Some goblins clutched at each other, others just stared blankly at the ground as if waiting for the world to collapse.

Then one voice cut through the noise.

"Father!" Zivara’s cry cracked, her tone filled with a sorrow that almost sounded too human for a goblin. The grief in her eyes said it all.

I exhaled quietly and turned to Ariel. "Keep watch on them. I’ll be back soon."

She gave a faint nod, already refocusing her attention on the restless group.

Without wasting another second, I activated [Leap], my vision blurring as the world bent around me, focusing on one of the many spatial marks I had placed earlier.

My destination?

The two Chosen from Jael’s clan—the ones I’d left alive. Gork and Nira.

I had...