Chapter 60: The Aftermath

I woke up slowly, my consciousness returning in pieces as I became aware of the sounds around me.

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was Drake perched directly in front of my face, chittering excitedly.

Before I could say anything, the little creature leaned forward and nibbled at my cheek as though checking whether I was alive.

I couldn’t help smiling at him.

"I’m awake, you little rascal."

Drake chirped in response, looking far too pleased with himself.

I reached out to stroke his head before slowly pushing myself into a sitting position.

The movement sent a dull ache through my body, reminding me of the beating I’d taken from Thors.

My ribs hurt, my face felt swollen, and practically every muscle complained when I tried to move.

Fortunately, the pain wasn’t nearly as bad as I’d expected.

I could move my limbs without much difficulty, and although I was exhausted, I didn’t feel as though I had suffered any serious injuries that would keep me bedridden.

A couple of female goblins were watching me from a short distance away.

The moment I sat up and looked in their direction, they flinched and hurriedly stepped back, their expressions a mixture of nervousness and awe.

I stared at them for a moment, wondering what they were so frightened of.

Had they been watching me sleep the entire time? And if so, why did they look as though I might attack them simply for being there?

I decided not to bother asking. There were more important things to worry about.

"Where are Talia and the chief?" I asked.

One of the goblins pointed toward the chief’s quarters. "Over there."

"The chief’s hut?" I repeated, and both of them nodded.

I planted my hands against the ground and pushed myself to my feet.

My knees wobbled slightly as I stood, but I managed to steady myself before the weakness became obvious.

Drake climbed onto my shoulder, settling comfortably against my neck as though he had no intention of leaving me anytime soon.

I started walking toward the chief’s quarters, ignoring the discomfort that came with every step.

My body needed rest, but I couldn’t afford to waste too much time recovering.

The humans had left after their defeat, but that didn’t mean they would keep their word forever.

Thors had promised to leave the clan alone if he lost, and I had honored my end of the agreement by sparing his life.

However, there was no guarantee that the other humans would remain satisfied with that outcome, especially after losing several of their own people.

If they decided to return with reinforcements, the goblins would be in serious trouble.

We had already lost our chief, and many of the warriors were injured.

Even if I had recovered enough strength to fight again, I couldn’t protect the entire clan by myself.

We needed to leave before the humans had a chance to change their minds.

"I wonder if Talia is thinking about that," I muttered.

As I walked, I gradually became aware that something was missing.

There was an unfamiliar emptiness around me, a feeling that had nothing to do with my injuries.

I stopped for a moment, trying to understand what was bothering me, before my eyes widened slightly.

"Right. The Doom Axe." I glanced around. "Where the hell is it?"

I couldn’t remember seeing it beside me when I woke up.

Considering how important the weapon was, I found that rather concerning.

I had no intention of leaving it behind, especially after everything that had happened during my fight with Thors.

However, the moment I focused on the axe, I felt a connection to it.

It was difficult to describe, but I could sense its presence somewhere nearby, almost as though a part of me remained linked to the weapon even when it wasn’t within sight. I had a feeling that if I called for it, the axe would respond.

There was only one way to find out.

I stretched out my hand and concentrated on the connection.

A faint sensation passed through my arm, followed by a sudden movement in the distance.

The Doom Axe shot toward me, flying through the air before landing firmly in my outstretched hand.

Several goblins nearby cried out in surprise.

Their sudden shouts drew my attention toward a group of juveniles who had gathered a short distance away.

They had apparently been playing with something, but the moment they noticed me holding the axe, their expressions changed.

One by one, they lowered their heads and hurried away, suddenly finding the ground much more interesting than whatever they had been doing.

I watched them leave before looking down at the weapon in my hand.

So they had taken it while I was unconscious.

I clicked my tongue.

The little troublemakers had probably been curious about the weapon and decided to examine it while I was unable to stop them. I couldn’t entirely blame them for being curious, but the thought of someone carelessly handling an axe that powerful irritated me.

If I hadn’t been injured, I would have chased them down and given them a proper scolding.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t in any condition to run after a group of juvenile goblins, and I had more pressing matters to deal with.

I adjusted my grip on the Doom Axe and continued toward the chief’s quarters.

The closer I got, the more obvious it became that something had changed.

Goblins had gathered around the entrance, many of them kneeling with their heads lowered.

The usual sounds of the settlement had grown quieter, replaced by subdued murmuring and the occasional sniffle.

Nobody seemed interested in talking loudly, and even the younger goblins appeared to understand that this wasn’t the time to run around making trouble.

Among those gathered outside, I noticed a particularly hulking figure.

Gunther.

He was standing near the others, his broad shoulders slightly hunched as he stared toward the entrance.

When he noticed me approaching, his face tightened into a frown.

For a moment, I thought he was about to say something, but his expression quickly softened.

He turned his head away, leaving me with a brief glimpse of the sadness in his eyes.

I slowed down.

The chief’s death must have affected him more than I had expected.

Whatever their differences might have been, Orgrun had been the leader of this clan, the one responsible for guiding and protecting its members.

Losing him wasn’t something the goblins could simply move past, especially after everything they had endured.

I glanced around, searching the gathered goblins for another familiar face.

Bruz wasn’t there.

My expression changed as I scanned the area a second time.

I couldn’t remember seeing him after the fight, and the fact that he wasn’t among the goblins gathered around the chief’s quarters made an unpleasant thought creep into my mind.

Don’t tell me...