Lucas, now assured of the goblins’ submission, watched as they prepared to leave. His decision to grant Gobu the title of Overseer had effectively set the foundation for what could be a long-lasting alliance—or a simmering conflict waiting to explode. I’ve played my hand, Lucas thought, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the table in front of him. Let’s see how they adapt.

As Gobu and the six goblin chiefs departed the dungeon, Lucas observed them closely, each step they took shaping his plans for the future. He trusted Gobu, but trust could be fragile. The goblins’ loyalty may not last long if they feel the pressure of my demands. I’ll need to monitor their progress closely.

Before leaving, Gobu approached Lucas's automaton messenger once more. "Great Master," he said, bowing lower than before, "I ask if you would give us a place to begin gathering the tribute. We will start immediately."

Lucas considered the request carefully. "You may use the cave’s southern entrance for your gathering," he replied. "Make sure everything runs smoothly. I will send more automatons to oversee the process."

Gobu’s eyes lit up with hope, his gratitude evident. "We will not fail you, Master."

As Gobu and the goblin chiefs left the dungeon to begin their new lives, Lucas couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease. He had secured them, for now, but what if their loyalty faltered? What if the promise of protection and servitude didn’t last?

Weeks passed in uneasy silence. Lucas had sent his automatons to monitor the goblins, but something felt off. As the days went by, the goblins slowly began to adjust to their new life under Lucas’s rule. However, some of them began to voice concerns about Gobu’s position as Overseer.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

The goblins had never lived under the command of one of their own who held such authority, and they were unaccustomed to being governed by someone with direct ties to Lucas. Why does Gobu get to make the decisions for us? some of the younger goblins whispered. Wasn’t it our clans who fought and bled to survive?

These whispers began to spread like wildfire, and Gobu, despite his loyalty to Lucas, found himself caught in the middle of a brewing storm. The goblins, especially those from smaller tribes, began to question whether they were truly equals under Lucas’s rule, or if they were being led by a puppet of the Master. The title of Overseer had been meant as a sign of trust and authority, but to some, it felt like a leash.

One evening, Gobu approached Lucas’s automaton messenger with a heavy heart. His face was weary, and his hands clenched tightly in nervous frustration.

"Great Master," Gobu began, his voice strained, "there is unrest among my people. Some of the goblins question my authority as Overseer. They believe that I am no different from the other automatons—just another tool for your control."

Lucas listened carefully, his expression unreadable. He had anticipated this. His offer of power to Gobu had been a calculated decision, but he hadn’t foreseen how it might affect the goblins’ perception of leadership.

"And what do you suggest, Gobu?" Lucas asked, his voice low but firm.

The goblin’s posture was hunched, and his words were heavy with hesitation. "I ask for your wisdom, Master. Some of my people wish for a council, for all of us to have a say in how things are governed. They say I am too close to you to truly lead them."

Lucas narrowed his eyes. A council? The goblins want more power? He knew that giving them a voice could fracture his control. Yet, at the same time, he understood the importance of unity. Gobu’s leadership could falter if there was constant rebellion, even if it was subtle.

"I will consider your request," Lucas said after a long pause. "But do not mistake my generosity for weakness. I will not allow any challenge to my rule. You will remain Overseer, but understand this: Your position is because I trust you. Do not allow your people to forget that."