Chapter 61: The Clan Without a Chief

Don’t tell me...was he dead too?

I looked at Gunther again, but the hulking goblin had his back turned toward me.

I considered asking him, but the words caught in my throat.

There was a chance Bruz was simply somewhere else in the settlement, and I didn’t want to assume the worst without knowing the truth.

Even so, I couldn’t shake the thought.

Rest in peace, Bruz.

I lowered my gaze and continued walking.

The goblins kneeling along the path noticed me approaching and moved aside to let me pass.

Several watched me with wide eyes, their expressions filled with a mixture of reverence and uncertainty. Others bowed their heads as I passed, and a few whispered to one another, their voices too low for me to make out what they were saying.

I didn’t know what to make of their behavior.

Perhaps it was because I had defeated Thors and saved the clan from being wiped out. Or perhaps the Doom Axe had something to do with it.

Whatever the reason, I wasn’t particularly interested in finding out.

I had never asked to become anyone’s hero, and being treated like one wouldn’t solve the problems waiting for us.

I stepped into the chief’s quarters and immediately spotted Talia.

She was kneeling beside Orgrun’s body, her head bowed and her shoulders trembling slightly.

The chief lay on the ground, motionless, with no sign of the strength and authority that had once defined him.

Seeing him like that was unsettling.

Only a short while ago, he had been standing before Thors, ready to fight for the survival of his people.

Now, he was gone, leaving the clan without the leader it had depended on.

Talia must have heard my footsteps because she turned toward me.

Her eyes were red, and tears had left faint trails down her cheeks. She tried to say something, but her lips parted without a sound.

"How is he?" I asked, although I already suspected the answer.

She shook her head.

That was enough.

I looked at Orgrun’s body and fell silent for a moment.

I hadn’t known him for very long, and we hadn’t exactly been close.

Nevertheless, he had fought to protect his clan, and he had been willing to risk his life when Thors challenged them.

It was sad that he had died, but I couldn’t afford to dwell on it.

The living still needed to survive, and the clan’s situation hadn’t improved simply because its chief was gone.

"What do we do now?" I asked.

Talia lowered her head again.

"I... I don’t know."

I stared at her, momentarily wondering whether I had heard her correctly.

"You don’t know?" I repeated. "What do you mean you don’t know? The humans could return at any time. We need to do something before that happens."

I found it difficult to believe that she hadn’t already considered what came next.

Orgrun was dead, and as his daughter, Talia was the most obvious person to take responsibility for the clan.

I understood that she was grieving, but we couldn’t afford to sit around waiting for her to feel better.

If the humans returned before we had made any preparations, the consequences could be disastrous.

Talia raised her head and stared at me with disbelief.

"The chief just died," she said, her voice trembling with frustration. "Pardon me if I need a couple of minutes to process that."

"Pardon denied," I replied. "We don’t have time for this, Talia."

"We?" she repeated, giving me an incredulous look. "I thought you wanted nothing to do with the clan."

I couldn’t argue with that.

Until recently, I had been perfectly content to focus on my own survival and leave the goblins to handle their problems.

I hadn’t come here intending to become their protector, and I certainly hadn’t planned on taking responsibility for their future.

However, things had changed.

I glanced at the Doom Axe in my hand.

Ever since I had awakened the power sealed within it, I had felt a connection to the weapon that went beyond simply wielding it.

The legacy it carried was tied to the goblins, and the more I learned about its power, the harder it became to ignore the responsibility that came with possessing it.

I still had little attachment to the clan itself, but I couldn’t pretend that what happened to these goblins no longer mattered to me.

"Not before all this," I said, lifting the axe slightly. "I never asked to become some chosen one, and I still think that whole idea is bullshit. But I can’t deny that I feel responsible for what happens to the clan now. And that responsibility is telling me we need to get moving as soon as possible."

Talia studied me for a moment, seemingly trying to decide whether I was being serious.

Eventually, she let out a deep sigh and pushed herself to her feet.

She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand, then took a moment to steady her breathing.

"Fine," she said. "I’ll gather everyone, and we’ll leave as soon as we’re ready."

Relief washed over me.

Thank goodness.

For a moment, I had expected her to argue that the clan couldn’t abandon its home, especially since it was the only place many of them had ever known.

I could understand that attachment, but sentiment wouldn’t protect them if the humans returned. We needed somewhere safer to regroup, and the sooner we found it, the better our chances would be.

"Do you have anywhere in mind?" I asked. "We can’t just wander into the wild with a bunch of injured goblins and hope everything works out."

"We’d be heading to the same place Zephra is taking the children."

"And where is that?"

"A neighboring clan," Talia replied as she began gathering a few belongings. "It’s our best option, but I don’t know if they’ll... accept us."

"Why wouldn’t they?" I asked. I could understand if we were turned away because there were too many of us or because they didn’t have enough resources to spare. But the way Talia said it made me suspect there was a more personal reason behind their reluctance.

She stopped packing and gave me a look that made me wonder whether the beating I had received from Thors had done more damage to my head than I realized.

"Because they...