Chapter 75: The Path to Greater Strength

"Now," I said quietly, "are we going to talk like reasonable people, or do I have to keep holding you down until you get the message?"

For a while, neither of us spoke.

Zarvessa lay beneath me, her crimson eyes fixed on my face.

Her breathing had steadied, but the anger hadn’t completely left her expression.

I could see it in the tightness around her mouth and the way her fingers remained curled against the ground.

I wasn’t foolish enough to assume she had suddenly become reasonable.

She had killed her own guard without hesitation, ordered my companions imprisoned, and nearly opened my chest with that dagger.

Whatever had caused her to lose control, I needed to understand it before making another move.

"Are you going to keep staring at me?" she asked.

"That depends. Are you going to try killing me again?"

She said nothing.

I held her gaze, waiting for an answer.

After a moment, she looked away, her jaw tightening.

"Get off," she repeated.

There was a coldness in her voice that made me hesitate.

I studied her face for another moment, looking for any sign that she intended to resume the fight.

Eventually, I decided to take the risk.

I slowly let her go.

But just as I let my guard down, her knee came up, and her foot struck me squarely between the legs.

"Ugh!"

My body folded instinctively.

I stumbled backwards, both hands moving to protect the injured area as a wave of pain shot through me.

For a moment, I couldn’t even form a proper sentence.

"You little..."

Zarvessa rose from the ground, brushed the dirt from her clothes, and retrieved her dagger.

She looked down at me with a faint, bitter smile.

"Since you want to talk, let’s talk."

I glared at her, struggling to straighten my back.

She slipped the dagger back into its sheath.

I took a slow breath and tried to ignore the lingering pain. Apparently, even after being pinned to the ground, Zarvessa couldn’t resist having the last word.

She turned towards the nearby building. "Come inside."

I glanced at her, then at the gathering crowd.

Before I could respond, someone approached from the side. It was Ravok. Or rather, another red goblin who looked remarkably like him.

He was holding a dark piece of cloth in both hands.

I stared at him.

The goblin stopped in front of me and extended the cloth. "Your shawl."

I took it, still somewhat distracted by the fact that he looked so much like the guard Zarvessa had killed.

A closer look revealed a few differences in their facial features, although they shared the same tall build and reddish skin.

"Thanks," I muttered.

I wrapped the shawl around my waist, making sure it covered enough of my body before retrieving Doom Axe.

The weapon’s runes dimmed as I dismissed the lightning coating around my body.

When I looked towards the green goblins, I found them watching me with expressions I couldn’t quite interpret.

Talia appeared especially confused. Her gaze moved from Zarvessa to me, then briefly settled on the shawl I was using to cover myself.

Gunther looked as though he had several questions but couldn’t decide which one to ask first.

I raised a hand and gave them a small gesture to let them know I was fine.

It wasn’t exactly reassuring, considering the situation, but it would have to do for now.

Zarvessa was already walking towards the entrance.

I followed her, keeping a careful distance.

The surrounding red goblins parted to let us through, although their expressions suggested they were far from pleased with what they had witnessed.

Some looked at me with open hostility, while others seemed more interested in understanding how I had managed to overpower their chief.

I didn’t pay them much attention.

Once we entered the building, Zarvessa led me down a short passage and into her room. The interior was much quieter than the courtyard outside.

A bronze lamp cast a warm glow over the wooden table, while the narrow window allowed a little afternoon light to enter.

The bed remained slightly dishevelled from our earlier encounter, and one of the cushions had fallen onto the floor.

Zarvessa walked past it and stopped beside the table.

I remained near the entrance.

The mood had changed considerably.

The seductive warmth she had displayed earlier was gone, replaced by a guarded expression and a simmering anger she made little effort to conceal.

She looked at me as though she hadn’t forgiven me for rejecting her, much less for defeating her in front of her people.

I couldn’t blame her for being upset.

However, that didn’t excuse what she had done.

"Since you want to talk, let’s talk," she said.

I nodded. "I’m listening."

She studied me for a moment before speaking.

"What I want is to take down the seal that’s blocking our magic."

I blinked.

That was certainly not what I had expected her to say.

It aligned with my goals as well I was very much eager to have this talk.

"The seal?"

"Yes. The one preventing us from accessing our true magical abilities." Her expression hardened. "Our ancestors possessed powers that the goblins of today can barely imagine. Yet we have spent generations living with only a fraction of what we should be capable of."

I leaned against the nearby wall, keeping my attention on her.

"How long has this seal existed?"

"Longer than anyone in this clan can remember. It has been passed down through stories, warnings, and the few records that survived from earlier generations. Every chief knows about it. Every shaman has heard of it."

"And nobody has managed to remove it?"

"Many have tried." She paused, her gaze drifting towards the window. "Chiefs, shamans, warriors, and even those who devoted their entire lives to studying magic. Some searched for its source. Others attempted to break it through force. None succeeded."

I considered her words.

From what I understood, the goblins had a limited ability to use mana.

Their physical development was also far behind what it could have been if they had access to their full potential. If there really was a seal restricting their magic, it could explain quite a few things.

However, removing something that had remained in place for generations was no simple task.

"That sounds like a suicide mission," I said.

Zarvessa looked back at me. "I’m aware."

"Many have tried and failed, and you’re telling me you want to do what none of them could?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

Her expression changed slightly. For the first time since we entered the room, the anger in her eyes seemed to give way to something more personal.

"Because I refuse to spend the rest of my life accepting the limits placed upon us. I refuse to watch our people remain weak while other races grow stronger. The world has changed, Sylas. The creatures around us are evolving, gaining abilities, and claiming territories. We cannot afford to remain the way we are."

She stepped closer to the table, resting both hands on its surface.

"Our ancestors were feared. There was a time when goblins did not have to hide in caves or cling to scraps of land. We had power, numbers, and the strength to defend what belonged to us. Now, even a small group of stronger creatures can drive us from our homes."

I remained silent.

There was something familiar about her determination.

Zarvessa wasn’t simply interested in becoming stronger.

She wanted to change the position of her entire race.

That didn’t mean I agreed with her methods, but I could understand the desire behind them.

"And you believe removing the seal will restore that power?" I asked. Even though the answer to that question was obvious.

"I don’t believe it. I know it."

"How?"

"Because I have seen what lies beyond it."

I straightened slightly.

"What do you mean?"

Zarvessa hesitated. It was brief, but I noticed it.

"There are ways to draw power even with the seal in place," she said. "Ways that the other chiefs refuse to acknowledge. I discovered one of them, and it has allowed my clan to grow stronger than the others."

That explained the unnatural strength I had witnessed. It also explained why her people looked different from the green goblins. Their red skin, the horns, and the strange intensity surrounding their chief were not things I could easily dismiss as ordinary variations.

"Is that why your people are different?" I asked. "The red skin, the horns, and their strength?"

"Partly."

"Then how did you acquire that power?"

Zarvessa looked directly at me.

"Through my god."

I narrowed my eyes.

There it was again.

The same mention of a god that had come up during her conversation with Talia.

She had threatened to offer the prisoners to this being, and now she was telling me that it was responsible for her clan’s strength.

"What does your god have to do with removing the seal?"

"He can help us." Her voice became more assured. "If you pledge allegiance to him, he will grant you power. You would gain a way to grow stronger, even while the seal remains in place."

I looked at her for several seconds.

"You’re asking me to worship your god?"

"To pledge allegiance. Worship is only one part of it."

"And what exactly would I be getting out of this?"

"Strength. The kind you cannot acquire through ordinary means. You have potential, Sylas. I could sense it when you entered my clan. Your aura is different from anything I’ve encountered before, and the weapon you wield is no ordinary axe. With my god’s blessing, you could become far stronger."

I didn’t answer immediately.

The offer was tempting in its own way.

I had no intention of remaining weak, and the possibility of acquiring another source of power was worth considering.

However, I wasn’t about to accept something simply because a beautiful goblin had promised me strength.

Especially not one who had just tried to kill me.

"There’s something you’re leaving out," I said.

Zarvessa’s expression remained unchanged. "What makes you say that?"

"You’ve told me what your god can give me, but you haven’t explained why he’d give it to me. What’s the price?"

She was silent for a moment.

I pushed away from the wall and looked her directly in the eyes.

"Nothing comes for free. So, what does this god want in return?"

Zarvessa met my gaze without flinching.

"Sacrifices," she responded.