After the raid, the lack of personnel had indeed been affecting our tribe. Production was slower, and during hunts, we kept missing prey by the skin of our teeth. We’ve been slowly consuming more food than we hunted. I ordered the food to be carefully rationed, so that we may have enough for winter. Some nights, I would stare endlessly at the snake meat on my plate. I felt too upset to eat, so I would give the food to someone else and retreat to my quarters. When doing so, Olma, would approach me and insist that I should eat something.

"My Holy Lord, I insist. You must eat something, it is not healthy to skip meals," she said.

When looking at her worried face, I felt perplexed. "Perhaps it is, but what am I to do when I have no appetite?"

"It does not matter." She puffed her cheeks and shoved a handful of boiled snake in my face. "You are the chief, you must eat. If you're not doing it for yourself, at least do it for me." She pleaded with her eyes.

I rolled my eyes at her, then slowly took a bite out of the food, much to her pleasure. She would often run around, reminding me of things and taking care of me. I felt bad for her having to deal with me.

"Here." I took out a silver necklace that I had acquired from the snake's hoard. "I think it would suit you." I gave it to her. Her face beamed with joy, she leapt at me, knocking me into my bed. We spent that night entwined together.

Fortunately, the following two months were uneventful, in the sense that there had been no life-threatening events, but there had been lots of internal developments. A few goblins became pregnant, in fact, 14 of the 20 were. Despite sleeping in a pile together, these goblins had little hesitations. Since our situation was somewhat stable, the goblins had grown less tense and felt free to get busy. Unfortunately, Olma hadn't had as much luck, much to Voglo's chagrin. He would more than once insinuate for me to try someone else, but I wasn't convinced. I wasn't in favour of polyamory, these goblins could do what they want, but I'd much rather stick to one girl. Olma was more than enough trouble for me.

I had spoken to Voglo about goblin behaviour since despite now being one, I hadn't much knowledge about it. He said that typical goblins just keep on copulating, since the turnover of their lives was so fast and that they had no concept of monogamy. But us Amber-Skin goblins are less fertile compared to normal goblins. Monogamy was more common among us, but still rare. Regardless, being somewhat less fertile than a normal goblin still meant you were very productive. Voglo also said that goblin gestation periods were fast, around 4 months for us. New tribe mates would be joining us soon.

Gradually, I spent less and less time hunting. Much to my lament, hunting normal beasts did little to nothing now experience-wise. I figured it would be more appropriate to train my skills at home for safety since outside of magic, I was practically defenceless. We had no experienced warriors or soldiers, so most of my training was done by repeating simple movements. In my previous life as a high-flying businessman, I had little need for combat practice, I had plenty of bodyguards after all.

Interface You have raised your Cut (Beginner) to Cut (Novice) You have raised your Bash (Beginner) to Bash (Novice) You have raised your Stab (Beginner) to Stab (Novice) You have raised your Stone Shaper (Novice) to (Initiate)

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

The first 3 skills were simply visible indications of my progress and had no real effects. As for my [Stone-Shaper], I was frustrated as to why it took so long to improve. Perhaps it's because I was only making simple things, and not pushing myself like in the beginning.

Voglo's shrill cackle rang throughout the camp. Using the various organs from that Giant Snake, he had managed to produce some results and he even claimed that his [Shamanic Concoctions] skill has increased in rank, though he did not disclose its rank. He brewed a few more potent mana potions, medicines, and incredibly toxic poison. When used on a boar, the creature died instantly, and even after boiling the boar meat, one would feel nauseous. There were jugs upon jugs of this poison, which we stored for a rainy day.

During our nightly feasts, Voglo preached about Yantago to the goblins, which I supposed served to revive him. I did not pay attention to the prayers, I was never a religious man, and currently, I was more concerned with survival. Would it be considered blasphemy for the heavenly emissary of Yantago to have these thoughts? That guy wouldn't mind.

Typically, I sat alone on my carved stone throne, but recently, Voglo, Rugum and Olma began to sit beside me, slightly lower than me. Perhaps this is a show of their official statuses of Advisor, Lead Hunter and Head Artisan? Although I did not appoint them to such positions, not pointing out their behaviour was a sign of approval. Olma would occasionally throw me a side glance, every time our eyes made contact, I would slowly turn away. If I did it too quickly, it would give away the fact I wanted to conceal my reddening face.

One day I was practising in front of the cave, and a goblin from the hunting team came running to me. “Great Chieftain, we have discovered a bog at the edge of the forest.”

My eyes immediately widened. Bogs were a source of pure iron ore, one that was much easier to smelt compared to ore from mines or rusted metal. If we could get our hands on that, our combat strength would increase greatly. I could feel my smile turning into a greedy grin.

“How far is it?” I asked.

“Around a day's travel, we’d have to camp in the forest.” The hunter goblin explained.

“It's still early morning! Let’s get going, prepare some rations.”

Quickly, the hunting team was assembled. We had simple leather bags tied to our waists, filled with provisions, such as fermented snake meat, snake blood sausage, waterskins, and some berries. The majority of the fermented meat went bad, but the [Fermenting] skills of our goblins rose, so they could better putrefy other meats. Olma had given me a set of armour made from the snake's scales, a chest plate, shin guards, vambraces. Before I was about to leave, she pulled me in and kissed me. This time I could not conceal my blush. I simply cleared my throat and embarked on the journey, without saying a word.

During the night, the hunters took turns standing watch and guarding me. Yet I still had trouble sleeping, the vision of the snake's maw would occasionally flash in front of me. Those night's I didn't sleep. Soon the smell of the swamp wafted through the air, despite it not being in sight. Gradually, the soil became soggier, and the vegetation slowly changed, more dead trees, more ponds with reeds and cattails began appearing more frequently.

I had no misconceptions about the dangers of a swamp, one wrong step could have one drown in an inescapable dense pit of goo. Despite my caution, I tried remaining inquisitive to find the bog iron. After a few hours of careful travel, we had reached the heart of the swamp, A small dark green lake, filled with dead plants, logs and dense vegetation.

“Crooaaakk!” A loud rumbling croak echoed from the other side of the lake, as we took a closer look, we noticed a horrifying sight, a pack of giant frogs or toads, ensnaring a trapped deer with their tongues. Alongside those frogs were humanoid figures, wearing leaves, bark and vines for clothes. As I squinted my eyes, I saw those people were not humans nor goblins, they were some sort of humanoid frog!

Immediately, I realised what a terrible idea it was for us to come here. My [Ground-Shake] spell was useless in this environment. “Let’s get out before they notice us,” I whispered, and the others nodded.

As we slowly backed away, one goblin stepped onto a patch of slimy stone. “AARGH!” He cried as he fell and splashed in the muddy water.

“Blargh! Help me!” He yelled.

“Gatrom!” A goblin quickly laid down to the ground and reached out his hand. “Take my hand!”