The Monster King's Legacy

The day had pretty much ended without much else. Though, Lance was thinking about some possibilities. It was more than clear to him that the goblins elders around would pounce on him sooner or later. Regardless, he certainly had to be ready for that day.

With such thoughts in mind, Lance had woken up rather energetic and in a bright mood for the day, until that peace was shattered by the rough bellow of a horn. Its deep, resonating sound echoed through the forest, even sending a few birds scattering off the trees. Lance, who had been seated near the central fire about to warm some mushroom and rabbit soup, froze mid-sentence, his conversation with Rynne cut short by the sudden tension that swept through the camp.

"What was that?" Lance asked, his voice steady despite the unease clawing at his chest.

Rynne was already on her feet, picking up her spear with practiced motion, and her yellow eyes sharp with alertness.

"Trouble," she said, her tone grim.

From the edge of the camp, a young goblin scout sprinted toward them, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Ogres!" she cried, pointing toward the eastern treeline. "Big ones. At least a dozen. Armed."

The words sent a ripple of panic through the gathered goblins. Whispers turned to shouts as they scrambled to ready themselves, fear written plainly on their faces.

"Ogres?" Lance repeated, his mind racing. He turned to Lia, who had just joined them, her calm demeanor masking the worry in her eyes for most.

"They're mostly mercenaries," Lia explained. "Rogue bands that prey on smaller tribes like ours. If they're here, it's not by accident."

"What do they want?" Lance asked.

"Tribute?" Lia said bitterly. "Supplies, weapons, captives—anything of value. And if we refuse…"

She didn't need to finish the sentence.

Listening to her, Lance already knew the stakes. Their problem had just compounded, and immediately, his mind began racing.

The ogres emerged from the treeline moments later, their hulking forms casting long shadows across the clearing. Even though these goblins were more human than the monsters from earth's depiction, each one of these ogres was massive, towering over even the tallest goblins, Lia and Rynne, their muscles rippling beneath crude armor fashioned from scraps of metal and leather.

Compared to the male goblins their tribe had fought before, this enemy was more ferocious, at least they looked the part perfectly.

Zarra and her scouts had also had to fall back so they wouldn't give the wrong impression, at least no early on.

Their leader, a particularly large brute with a jagged scar running down one side of his face, carried a spiked club as tall as Lance, how he would manage to swing it in a fight, a mystery. Lance himself was around 1.78 metres tall, and yet, he would still have to look up to meet this ogre eye to eye.

The ogre leader stepped forward, his heavy footsteps shaking the ground, or at least it felt like it. He surveyed the camp with disdain before raising his voice, the guttural growl carrying easily across the clearing.

"Listen up, little goblins! You're sitting on land that belongs to us now. If you value your miserable lives, you'll hand over whatever you've got, food, weapons, gold any and everything. And maybe, we'll let you live." He said, his voice carrying an unedifying tone.

The goblins recoiled, their fear palpable. Even Rynne who was usually so fearless, gripped her spear tightly, her jaw clenched, with a hard expression on her face.

Lance personally could not believe the monstrosity before him could even exist, but he stepped forward before anyone else could react, his heart pounding but his expression calm, concealing what his mind held. "What if we don't have what you're looking for?!" he called, his voice steady.

"Why does a human speak for the goblins?"

"What is going on here?" Some Ogres wondered, speaking under breath.

The ogre leader turned his gaze to Lance, his scarred face twisting into a cruel grin. "Then we'll take what we want. And leave nothing behind."

Lance could feel the weight of the goblins' stares on his back. They were waiting for him to act, to lead. He took a deep breath, forcing his fear aside as he met the ogre's gaze, the entire weight of his bloodline pushing him forward.

"Let's talk," Lance said, stepping closer. "There's no need for bloodshed."

Listening to what Lance said, the ogre laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Talk? With you? A puny little human who thinks he can boss around goblins? You've got guts, I'll give you that."

Despite his body wanting to run away, Lance didn't flinch. "If I'm not wrong, you're all mercenaries. That means you're not here just for fun. You want something, and I'm offering you a chance to get it without anyone dying."

The ogre leader tilted his head, "Anyone dying?" He repeated what Lance said.

"That's not what I meant…" Lance corrected himself immediately, hoping it would at least help.

He took another step forward, keeping his movements slow and deliberate. "We don't have much, but we're resourceful. I can make sure you leave here with enough supplies to last a while. Food, tools, even weapons. But we can't give you everything, we'd starve."

The ogre narrowed his eyes. "And why should I care if you all starve and die?"

"Because if we survive, we can produce more for you in the future," Lance said, his tone calm but firm. "Think about it. You can raid us now and take what little we have, or you can let us live and come back later for more. It's a smarter move."

The ogre leader's grin faded slightly as he considered Lance's words. Behind him, the other ogres shifted uneasily, their expressions ranging from confusion to annoyance.

"You think you can trick me, human?" the leader growled, stepping closer.