The ironworks were immediately used; no second was wasted, as the growing goblin war machine demanded to be fed to keep growing.

Smoke bellowed from the furnaces as the ores were melted and turned into usable metals.

The goblins added the orc bodies to the food storage. After a bit of cleaning and cooking, orc meat was no different than pig meat. Next, the goblins turned the skulls into decorations for both the area and armor.

Before the scholars had taken the rifles apart, they researched and then twisted in the goblin's imagination. Devilish bayonets became an attached weapon standard; the barrels became thicker and longer to accommodate the larger rounds developed to take on bigger enemies.

Even dynamite had begun to change. They were made less reliant on fire and more compact. They were now long sticks with a mechanism when pulled started an internal timer, and almost every goblin soldier carried a minimum of two.

In addition, the scouts were outfitted with a gun shield, a lengthy shield that got more narrow as it reached the bottom. The shields had two cutouts, one for the barrel and one for vision. Since most goblins were right-handed, the guard was worn on the left arm and provided a light cover for them when not in trenches and heavy when in them.

Gez was carrying a box of newly pressed helmets still hot from the forge when the chieftain approached him, followed by many scholars.

"Gez," the chieftain called, causing Gez to release the box of helmets. "You did excellent work today."

Gez smiled, and then it quickly faded. "Gez is thankful, but we had cowards that ran away!"

"The Durg generation?" The chieftain rhetorically asked. "I'm aware, and they've never been loyal to any goblin."

Gez had to hold back the biggest laughter that he could before he could say, "Gez saw them running to the deadlands."

However, the chieftain made no effort; he mocked and rebuked them. "Good! The grave walkers will take care of the bastards!"

Gez couldn't hold it. The sadistic shared mentality couldn't be stopped; they were traitors and disloyal; they didn't deserve to be respected, especially since they abandoned them during the scout's most crucial moment. Moments later, they both stopped.

"I'm giving you ten more goblins," the chieftain said. "Don't worry, and they won't run away." He then turned around and left to join a group of conversing goblin scholars, more so than before, all wearing that strange attire.

But, the scout's manpower was now thirteen, including Gez. Gez was excited, and this meant. The chieftain trusted him enough to be a leader.

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The following mission details were far less direct, and they needed a foothold in Khargol; they needed to retake their capital. Still, as it stood, the orc warlords and his many war bosses currently sat in power over the region.

So, Gez's mission was to sever the power they could output. The chieftain and his scholars explained they wanted them to fight defensively. Attrition and siege tactics would carry them to victory, but that couldn't happen if the orcs still had resources on the outside. They didn't have enough goblins to sustain an open conflict.

Gez, Frek, and Krez stood at the front of the new scouts. Everyone was wearing the latest gear, which made sense since they'd be the first to test it in combat after all.

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"More orc filth," spat Krez. "We give them too much mercy for how they treated us!"

Frek was passing a stone over his bayonet, sharpening it. "I'm gonna wear the warboss' skull on my helmet!" He snickered.

Their shared opinion of orcs hadn't been positive. The majority of the hunger from the group was from what the goblins wanted to do to the orcs. Except for Gez, he didn't hate the orcs, but he didn't like them either; he was excited by the thrill of the confrontation. The need to prove that the power and authority were well placed.

Once The scholars gave the last of the goblin scouts their ration bag and ammo, they were headed out. Their kits were heavier than before, but the larger caliber bullets and extra rounds were worth the excess weight.

Branches and twigs snapped as the scout group walked; stealth wasn't mandatory as nothing was expecting them to begin with.

"What are they like? Frek asked, running up and tapping on Gez's shoulder.

"Gez doesn't know what you are talking about," he responded

"The scholars!" Frek shouted out of excitement. " I heard they did weirdo things like magic!"

Gez laughed. "Gez hasn't met them yet," Gez revealed. "Gez does know that they are smart and different, though. They stay with the chieftain all the time."

"Then they have to be some kind of special goblin," Frek theorized. "Cause they'd be with us then."

"Stop!" Gez shouted. His ears perked up, and he tried to listen out for something.

But the forest came up quiet, not even a smell came up, but he heard something, and it wasn't them.

Krez ran up to the front with his weapon at a low ready. "Why did we stop, Gez?"

"He heard something," Frek responded. "Tell everyone to look around!"

Krez nodded, running through the goblins, each one he passed spreading out and looking in a picked direction.

Minutes went by, and there hadn't been a single sign of movement.

"Gez thinks it's gone now; keep moving!" Gez announced.

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A dark male elf wearing a black leather face shield that only covered his mouth walked into a room. He was out of breath and panting hard.

An elf of dark skin with nary a single blemish ran a hand through his silk smooth black hair and sat up from his seat around an empty oval snapped table. "I take it that something happened during your reconnaissance of the orcs?"

The dark elf with the mask held up a finger as he tried to regain his breath.

The dark elf crossed his arms and said, "This must've been important since I know you not for being a runner,"

"The goblins are starting to invade," The masked dark elf said when his lungs finally caught up to him. "They're heading towards the orc warboss Grom'garyl."

At first, the news surprised him, but he pressed for more information, "Was it a lot?"

The masked elf shook his head. "Thirteen, but they were holding rifles."

"Interesting," the elf said, putting his hand to his mouth in light thought. "And you said they were heading into Grom'garyl's territory?"

"Correct," the masked elf confirmed.

"Perhaps they are going to attack the orcs for us, and maybe we can use them to our advant-" the elf was cut off as the doors opened up, and a female walked in.

Even for dark elf standards, she was unusually young-looking with light brown skin and black hair tipped with silver color.

"Good morning, Lord Messi," she greeted.

"Princess Arduina, morning," he said back before returning to the masked elf, "I want a full report as soon as you can."

The masked elf nodded and calmly left the room.

"Did I interrupt something?" Arduina asked.

Messi waved his hand, "No, No. Nothing at all, just my weekly reports on the expansion of the orc territory."

"Ah, yes! Lately, it's almost like I can feel our borders becoming smaller; sooner or later, the council will have to do something about them."

"I agree, princess, but their hands seem to be tied at the moment with the diplomatic relationship with high elves and the dwarves."

Princess Arduina sighed, "Sometimes, it feels like no one is even trying to keep the peace; a united union between all of us could last for eons."

Messi smiled. "It's a noble dream, princess, but you have to understand politics are run not by us but by old men that like to bicker."

She chuckled. "Come, let's find our seats; the others are about to walk in."