Chapter 143: The War Is Over

Standing outside the southern walls, Ka’z and his team watched in silence as the entire Ashmork village burned. Flames had spread across the wooden walls and rooftops, turning the settlement into a vast sea of orange and red that illuminated the surrounding forest.

Thick columns of smoke rose into the night sky while embers drifted through the air around them, carried away by the wind.

Every now and then, a section of a building collapsed into the flames, sending a burst of sparks upward. The sounds of the burning village had replaced the battle cries and screams that had filled the night earlier, leaving behind an eerie quiet that made the destruction feel even more real.

Ka’z stood at the front of the group, holding the thick red diary they had taken from the shrine. Its cover was made from high quality material, though age had caused parts of it to peel and crack. Despite that, the book remained remarkably well preserved because the goblins had treated it as a holy object.

Only Varg had been permitted to handle it regularly, and even then, he had done so with the reverence of someone handling a sacred treasure. Now it rested in Ka’z’s hands.

Behind the kobolds stood fifteen male goblins, some middle aged and others barely old enough to be considered adults. Their hands had been tied tightly behind their backs with thick ropes, while another rope ran around their necks and connected each of them to the others.

It was deliberately arranged to make escaping nearly impossible.

These were the artisans of Ashmork, men who had specialized in the various crafts and techniques recorded within the Red Scripture. Their knowledge would be far more valuable to Ka’z’s future settlement than ordinary slaves would have been, which was why they had been spared.

Yet even they were not necessarily the most valuable spoils the kobolds had taken from Ashmork. The magic weapons, mana crystals, tools, and other resources stored by the clan represented an enormous treasure for a small colony that had spent generations living inside caves.

Bigi carried the weapons they had gathered, including the spear and magical weapons that had belonged to Loki and Crow. Ashin Grim was among them as well because it was now useless to Ka’z after the battle.

Bruk dragged a large sack behind him, the weight of the mana crystals inside making every movement of the heavy bag scrape against the ground. The quality of these aether crystals alone was a resource Vaal’kor could never have acquired easily on its own, and Ka’z knew they would be extremely useful for cultivation, magic tools, and whatever settlement they eventually built.

"We won... And we didn’t even lose a single person." Mi’ya said, her voice dripping with disbelief as she stared back at the burning village.

Even she seemed unable to fully comprehend the outcome. They had walked into the territory of a clan that once possessed hundreds of members and had fought against a force that greatly outnumbered them, yet every member of Ka’z’s team was still standing.

The contrast became even more staggering when compared to the casualties on the other side. More than a hundred goblins had been killed during the campaign, including warriors and civilians, while the kobolds had not lost a single person.

"We are fucking heroes... No, legends! All the girls will be all over us when we get back!" Thrak declared as he dropped down onto one knee beside the fire, stretching both hands toward the warmth while wearing an enormous grin.

His declaration was so shameless that several of the kobolds immediately burst out laughing. Even Krov, who usually maintained a more serious expression, couldn’t help but shake his head at him.

Ka’z did not laugh.

He remained several steps away from the others, his eyes fixed on the light panel hovering at the corner of his vision. The others eventually noticed his silence, but no one interrupted him.

[Completed Quest: Destroy the Ashmork Clan]

[Sub Mission Completed: Compromise their food source]

[Reward: 100sp]

[Sub Mission Completed: Destroy the Ashmork Clan Livestock and Grain Storage within the Village]

[Sub Mission Completed: Pick Off The Ashmork Hunting Parties]

[Description: With nothing to eat, the Ashmork Clan will be forced to send out multiple hunting parties to catch some of the released livestock. Pick them off and cut down their fighting force greatly before the final confrontation.]

[Sub-mission Completed: Attack And Destroy The Ashmork Clan]

[Completion Requirements:]

[Kill the Chieftain, Tribal heads & Chief Shaman]

[Steal the Red Scripture]

[Burn down the entire village]

[Reward: Origin Script: Blood Magic: Blood Sea]

Ka’z stared at the final reward for several seconds.

He should have been excited, yet he felt no joy looking at it. All he could think about was Loki, Varg, and Crow.

The image of Loki, Varg, and Crow’s final moments continued replaying in his mind.

Beyond the grievances between their clans, these were all been unique people with unique experiences, a unique understanding of magic, and a unique approach to fighting. Ka’z couldn’t help wondering what kind of conversations they could have had if they had met under different circumstances.

"I don’t think I ever want to do something like this again," Ka’z admitted openly.

The laughter immediately died and every member of the group turned toward him.

If there was anyone who should have been standing proudly after such an achievement, it was Ka’z. He had led them to victory against an enemy vastly larger than themselves, killed the strongest warriors of the Ashmork Clan, and obtained treasures that could transform the future of Vaal’kor.

Yet the kobold standing before them did not look like a victorious warrior. His shoulders seemed heavy, and his expression was almost as exhausted as the defeated goblins bound behind them.

"All I want to do now is build a kingdom that everyone can live in together. Spend time with my friends, spend time with Za’r and just live happily..." he said in a low but heavy voice.

The others remained silent.

Most of the killing had been done by Ka’z himself, and much of it had happened while his emotions were running high. At the time, the anger had been easy to understand. But now the war was over. The adrenaline had faded, the danger had passed, and there was nothing left to distract him from the consequences.

His body felt unnaturally heavy with guilt.

The memory of Varg’s death weighed especially heavily on him. Ka’z could still remember the old shaman’s expression

Then there were the seventy five goblins who had gone after the livestock. They had been desperate and hungry, many of them probably believing that recovering a few cows could save their families.

Ka’z had ambushed them and killed them because the System had given him a mission to weaken their fighting force. Now that he thought about it without the heat of battle clouding his judgment, he could still remember the terror in their eyes and the cries of those who had clung to one another during their final moments.

Playing war games back on Earth had been fun but this was different.

The entire group remained silent, unsure how to respond. Ka’z had just proven that he possessed the potential to become one of the greatest warriors their race might ever know. Hearing him say that he did not want to continue down this path felt almost wasteful to them. Yet none of them could bring themselves to say that to his face.

Drak was the first to move.

He walked toward Ka’z and placed a hand gently over his shoulder. "Your duty as the child of prophecy is to bring about prosperity to our colony. Because of you, we are finally going to leave the caves, breathe fresh air, and bathe under the sun all the time. If you ask me, you have done enough. If you can’t go any further, it’s alright," Drak said with a small smile.

Ka’z’s body trembled beneath his hand and Drak noticed immediately. Without saying anything else, he pulled Ka’z into a hug.

For a moment, everyone simply stared. Then Thrak’s expression brightened.

"Group hug!" he screamed as he threw himself into them without thinking twice.

The others immediately followed. Bigi and Bruk rushed forward, dropping the weapons and sack they had been carrying before wrapping their massive arms around the others. Tark joined them next, followed by Mi’ya, who hesitated for only a moment before finally stepping forward and joining the embrace. Luk and Krov soon joined as well, leaving Gruk standing several steps away with his arms crossed as though he wanted to maintain some dignity.

He lasted only a few seconds.

With a quiet sigh, Gruk walked forward and joined the hug.

Within moments, the entire group was holding one another tightly beneath the glow of the burning Ashmork village. Their laughter and muffled voices blended together as they clung to one another.

The fifteen goblin artisans watched from nearby with tired and defeated expressions. They were too exhausted from the terror they had experienced that night to feel much resentment toward the kobolds.

Perhaps after they had rested, eaten, and had time to process everything, hatred would return. But not tonight. Tonight they could only sit quietly and watch.

Several seconds later, the dire weasels eventually emerged from the darkness. One after another, the small creatures rushed toward the group before pressing themselves against their legs, joining the strange gathering in their own way. The sight made the embrace even more ridiculous, but nobody cared.

____

Far away on the northern side of the region, several hundred goblins stood at a safe distance and watched their former home burn to the ground. The flames were still visible from where they had gathered, illuminating the night sky with a distant orange glow. None of them spoke. There was nothing left to say.

Among them lay Loki’s body.

Two young goblins, approximately two years old, knelt beside him and cried loudly as they leaned over his corpse. One was male and the other female, yet their facial features were almost identical, marking them clearly as twins.

They clung to their dead brother as though refusing to accept that he was gone, their small bodies shaking from the force of their tears.

A middle aged female goblin wearing nothing more than ordinary rags knelt beside them. Tears streamed down her face as she looked toward Loki’s body, but she forced herself to maintain her composure for the sake of the children.

"You saw how your brother fought to protect us all... You must remember his bravery and dedicate your life to avenging his and your father’s death!" she said through trembling breaths.

Every goblin around her lowered their heads. Not a single one interrupted her.

They listened with the utmost respect because, beneath the simple rags and the grief stricken expression, she was someone who had once stood far above the ordinary goblins surrounding her.

She was Grash’s mate, Loki’s mother.

She had escaped Ashmork without being noticed by disguising herself in the same worn clothing as the other civilians and the disguise had worked perfectly.

Now she stared at the burning village with tears in her eyes, one hand resting protectively on each of Loki’s grieving siblings.

But as she watched the flames consume everything her family had built, the grief in her eyes slowly hardened into something else.