Chapter 167: New Project

Ka’z, Ru’k, Kurg, Tu’ka and Za’r walked through the streets of Vaal’kor alongside the fifteen goblin artisans and twenty kobold warriors who had remained openly loyal to Ka’z and Tu’ka after everything that had happened the previous night.

The group was large enough to draw attention wherever they went, but unlike the usual curiosity that followed Ka’z whenever he moved through the village, nobody approached them this time. Kobolds stepped aside before they even reached them, mothers pulled their children closer, and conversations died the moment Ka’z passed.

Some lowered their heads while others deliberately looked away, unwilling to meet the eyes of the young kobold who had openly threatened the village’s older generation only hours earlier.

Even the warriors who had supported Lan’ka’s appointment as Chieftain seemed reluctant to interfere. The atmosphere was uncomfortable, but Ka’z didn’t seem bothered by it. He continued walking with his hands behind his back, occasionally glancing toward the structures that had risen throughout the settlement.

Tor and the other artisans walked a few steps behind him, still processing everything Ka’z had told them earlier. They had come to him asking for permission to leave, convinced that their presence would eventually lead to their deaths, and instead they had been told that Ka’z intended to make them part of something far larger than Ashmork had ever been.

They still didn’t completely understand his dream, but for the first time since their capture, they were beginning to wonder whether remaining in Vaal’kor might actually be preferable to returning to the ruins of their former home.

Eventually, the group reached the western wall. Everyone climbed the wooden stairs and gathered along the top of the wall. From there, the southern region of the Evergreen Forest stretched endlessly into the distance.

Thick trees covered the western territory, their enormous canopies overlapping until the forest looked like an endless green sea.

Ka’z stepped toward the edge of the battlement and rested both hands against the wooden railing. He took a deep breath, allowing the cool forest air to fill his lungs, and slowly exhaled.

A smile began crawling across his face as he stared into the distance. For the first time in a while, his expression carried something other than exhaustion, anger or concern. He was looking at the forest as though it were a blank canvas waiting for him to decide what would be painted upon it.

"What are we supposed to be looking at?" Za’r asked before Ru’k could get the question out.

Ka’z glanced back at them with an amused expression. "Our military camp. This is where we will train our warriors into elites that no one in this forest can compete with."

The statement immediately drew everyone’s attention. Ru’k looked toward the thick forest and then back at Ka’z, clearly trying to figure out where he had already envisioned such a massive project. Kurg’s expression brightened at the mention of training, while Tu’ka’s eyes narrowed with interest.

The twenty warriors behind them also straightened. The idea of building an actual military training ground was enough to excite them.

Ka’z turned to face the group and reached into his robe before pulling out a folded piece of paper. He tossed it toward Tor, who caught it somewhat clumsily against his chest.

Tor looked down at the paper with confusion before carefully unfolding it. The other goblins immediately gathered around him, their curiosity overcoming their caution as they leaned closer to inspect the strange drawing.

What they saw was a detailed sketch of a piece of equipment they had never encountered before. It consisted of a shaped seat designed to rest across the back of a large animal, complete with straps, fastenings and supports that appeared designed to keep a rider firmly attached while allowing the animal to move freely beneath them.

"This is?" Tor muttered, his brow furrowing as he studied the drawing.

"A saddle," Ka’z answered.

"A saddle?!" Ru’k gasped loudly.

He froze for a moment before turning toward Ka’z with genuine confusion. "What is a saddle?"

Everyone immediately rolled their eyes at him. Kurg even shook his head, while Za’r covered her mouth to hide a laugh. Ru’k’s reaction had been so dramatic that for a moment they had assumed he had recognized the object and was simply surprised by its appearance. Instead, he had apparently shouted because he had absolutely no idea what it was.

Ka’z chuckled despite himself. "A saddle is equipment that can be used to control mounts more effectively. It gives the rider a stable position on the animal’s back and allows them to guide it without constantly fighting to stay mounted. That will allow us to build our cavalry forces and not just rely on foot soldiers."

Tu’ka’s expression changed immediately. "Cavalry force?"

The unfamiliar word caught him off guard, but before Ka’z could explain further, Tor and the other goblin artisans had already gone pale. Their eyes remained locked onto the drawing, and several of them exchanged uneasy glances.

They understood far better than the kobolds did.

The Ashmork clan had experimented with mounted warfare for years. Their territory contained several tiger striped boars that were large enough to carry a goblin, and the clan had trained dozens of them with the intention of turning them into battlefield mounts.

The problem had never been their strength. It had been their temperament. The animals were too unstable when ridden into combat, and even trained boars could become unpredictable when surrounded by blood, screaming and magic.

Eventually, Ashmork abandoned the idea of using them as true war mounts and restricted them mostly to transportation and hauling.

But the drawing in Tor’s hands presented an obvious solution to one of their greatest problems.

A rider did not have to fight simply to remain on the animal. The saddle gave them stability.

Tor slowly lifted his head. "How did you..." He glanced down at the drawing again before looking back at Ka’z. "This wasn’t in the Red Scripture, was it?"

Ka’z shook his head.

Every piece of equipment described in the Red Scripture that the Ashmork clan had successfully understood had eventually been recreated. That knowledge was how they had managed to develop their magic weapons, tools and various pieces of equipment despite the limitations of their own civilization. The artisans had studied those designs for generations. They knew the contents of their scripture almost by heart. There was no saddle described anywhere within its pages.

"Did you forget?" Ka’z asked casually. "I see and hear things others can’t. That’s why I am the child of prophecy."

He shrugged as though that explanation was enough.

For the goblins, it was more than enough.

Almost instinctively, Tor and the other artisans lifted their eyes toward the heavens. Their expressions were complicated, filled with a mixture of fear, reverence and uncertainty. After several seconds, they slowly lowered their gazes back toward Ka’z.

"He is truly a messenger of the Gods," Tor muttered.

The other goblins nodded slowly.

Tu’ka glanced sideways at Ka’z but said nothing. He had already realized that Ka’z was becoming increasingly comfortable with allowing the prophecy to explain things that would otherwise be impossible to understand. Whether the gods truly existed or not was becoming less important than the effect the belief was having on those around him.

Ka’z clapped his hands together once and looked toward the forest. "Now, while our lovely goblin friends here build the saddles for us, the rest of us will clear a large section of this land and prepare it for the construction of our military base, where warriors are made!"

For several seconds, the entire group remained silent. Ka’z looked around, waiting for the enthusiasm he had expected.

Instead, everyone was staring at him. Two separate expressions stood out from the crowd.

" Goblin... Friends?" Mi’ya muttered, her face twisting with disbelief.

"You are working too?" Thrak blurted out.

Ka’z’s smile disappeared. He rolled his eyes and rubbed his forehead. "You two just killed the entire momentum I was trying to build."

Mi’ya immediately looked away while Thrak scratched the back of his head sheepishly. The goblin artisans, meanwhile, stared at Ka’z with expressions that were completely different from the kobolds around them. None of them seemed to know how to react to being called friends.

Ka’z sighed before raising his voice. "Yes. These goblins are our friends, and yes again, I will be working with you. As we can see, we can’t rely on our people to get the job done. So who’s with me?"

Ka’z threw one hand into the air.

Almost immediately, all fifteen goblins raised their hands before Tu’ka could even move.

The response surprised everyone.

Tor looked around at the other artisans, apparently just as surprised as the kobolds. Yet none of them lowered their hands. Ka’z had made his position clear. They could either become part of Vaal’kor’s future or die because they refused to accept it. For the moment, the choice seemed obvious.

Tu’ka froze with his hand halfway upward.

He looked at the fifteen goblins, then at Ka’z, and a quiet chuckle escaped his mouth. He finally raised his own hand alongside everyone else.

Ka’z grinned.

"Okay, let’s get it done!"

"Understood!" they chorused together.