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Chapter 8: The Blackscale's Rise

Chapter 8: The Blackscale's Rise

The hatchling stood at the center of the goblin cave, his glowing eyes surveying the gathered goblins. Their whispers carried a mix of fear and awe, the weight of his earlier confrontation with the Goblin Warrior still fresh in their minds.

The young goblin guide hopped excitedly at his side. "Did you see that? Sir Lord scared him off! The Rusty Stone Tribe won't dare come back!"

The elder goblin shuffled forward, bowing low. "Sir Lord," he said, his voice trembling, "we offer ourselves to you. You have proven your strength. Please, allow us to serve you."

The hatchling tilted his head slightly, his gaze thoughtful. If they follow me willingly, I can use them. But loyalty needs to be absolute.

He raised a claw, his voice calm but commanding. "If you swear loyalty to me, understand this: I will protect you, but you will follow my commands without question. Disobedience won't be tolerated."

The goblins hesitated for only a moment before dropping to their knees in unison.

"Yes, Sir Lord!" the elder declared.

"Yes, Sir Lord!" the others echoed, their voices reverberating through the cavern.

The hatchling's tail swished slightly as he took a step forward, surveying his new domain. Good. This is a start. Now, let's see what I'm working with.

[Exploration of the Cave]

The elder goblin guided the hatchling through the sprawling cave system. It was crude and poorly organized, with jagged walls and uneven floors.

"This is our storage area, Sir Lord," the elder said, gesturing toward a pile of bones, shiny rocks, and other trinkets. "What little we've managed to keep after the Rusty Stone Tribe's raids."

The hatchling frowned. This isn't a storage area—it's a junk heap.

The elder moved on, leading him to a series of small alcoves lined with straw and fur. "These are our sleeping quarters. Not much, but… they keep us warm."

The hatchling's glowing eyes scanned the alcoves. Most of the goblins were scrawny, their ribs visible beneath their leathery skin. Weak. If another predator comes, they won't last a second.

They passed a small pool of stagnant water, the surface covered in a thin layer of grime. "This is our main water source," the elder said, his tone apologetic.

The hatchling sighed inwardly.

This place is a mess. If I'm going to survive here, it needs improvements.

The young goblin piped up, tugging on the hatchling's tail. "Sir Lord, we'll gather more! We'll make this the best cave ever!"

The hatchling smirked faintly. At least someone's enthusiastic.

The elder hesitated, his voice lowering. "Sir Lord, we've had trouble gathering resources. The Rusty Stone Tribe takes most of what we find. We barely have enough to survive."

The hatchling's claws scraped against the stone as he processed the elder's words. If I don't do something, this place won't last long.

"You mentioned about finding things," he said, his tone even but firm. "What about trading? Merchants?"

The elder goblin flinched slightly at the question, his hunched form stiffening. "Trading, Sir Lord?"

"Yes," the hatchling said, his gaze sharp. "Merchants. In one of the caves I've seen goblins before—they traded with humans. Exchanged goods for food, tools, even protection. Why don't you do that?"

I've seen no such thing. It's just I remember the previous system alert of how they got scammed while trying to sell me… to be fair, the egg, to a merchant.

The elder hesitated, glancing nervously at the younger goblins nearby. "We… we used to, Sir Lord," he admitted slowly, "but it became too dangerous. The Rusty Stone Tribe forbids us from trading. They say anything we have belongs to them, and if we try to trade, they punish us."

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The hatchling's claws tapped against the ground as his tail swayed thoughtfully. Figures. No tribe grows this desperate without someone making them weak.

"They punish you for trying to survive?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of menace.

The elder nodded, his gaze lowering. "They've killed those who defied them in the past… taken everything we had as a warning to others."

The hatchling narrowed his glowing eyes, his thoughts churning. "That's why you're stuck like this," he muttered, half to himself.

The elder flinched, bowing his head. "We are… weak, Sir Lord."

The hatchling's claws scraped against the floor as he turned to face the elder fully. "Weak because you're chained," he growled. "Start trading again. Quietly. Reach out to merchants willing to deal discreetly. You need food, supplies, tools—anything to strengthen yourselves."

The elder's eyes widened slightly, his trembling hands tightening into fists. "But if the Rusty Stone Tribe finds out…"

"Then they'll have to deal with me," the hatchling said coldly. "Let them come."

The elder stared at him for a long moment before nodding, his hunched shoulders straightening slightly. "Yes, Sir Lord. We'll find a way."

The hatchling smirked faintly, as if it was going according to his plan but just then…

A sudden commotion echoed from deeper within the cave, drawing the hatchling's attention.

"What's that?" he growled, his claws tensing.

The elder's face paled. "It's… it's him."

The hatchling's glowing eyes narrowed. "Him again?" he muttered, recalling the same word being used when the Goblin Warrior arrived.

Before the elder could explain, a goblin stomped into view. Larger than most but smaller than the Goblin Warrior, he carried a crude spear and glared at the hatchling with open hostility.

He was one of the best warriors in the tribe, previously attempted to parry those of Rusty Stone tribe only to fail.

"You expect us to follow a… lizard?" the goblin spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "The Rusty Stone Tribe will crush us if we betray them. I won't let some outsider get us all killed!"

The young goblin stepped forward, puffing up his chest. "Don't talk to Sir Lord like that! He defeated the Clawstalker and scared off the Rusty Stone Warrior! What have you done?"

The rebellious goblin sneered. "Strength doesn't make him a leader. I say we throw him out before he gets us all killed!"

The hatchling stepped forward, his claws clicking against the stone. His glowing eyes locked onto the rebellious goblin, cold and unwavering.

"Is that so?" he said, his voice quiet but laced with menace. "And what do you think will happen to you if you throw me out? Your situation will improve?"

The rebellious goblin froze, his grip on the spear faltering under the hatchling's intense gaze.

The hatchling took another step forward. "I fought the Clawstalker. I drove away the Rusty Stone Warrior. I bled for this place. What have you done, other than cower under their rule?"

The rebellious goblin took a step back, his defiance crumbling under the weight of the hatchling's words. The smaller goblins whispered among themselves, their gazes filled with awe and respect.

"This cave is mine now," the hatchling growled, his voice carrying across the cavern. "If you have a problem with that, you're free to leave. But if you stay, you follow my rules. Understand?"

The rebellious goblin hesitated for a moment longer before dropping his spear and lowering his head. "Yes, Sir Lord," he muttered.

The hatchling smirked faintly, his claws flexing as he turned away.

That's more like it.