Leonhart arrived at the goblin shelter, but the stench of blood and death hit Leonhart the moment he stepped into the cave.
He stopped.
The goblins behind him—five regular goblins and two hobgoblins—shifted uneasily.
Even the captive mage, barely standing from exhaustion, sensed something was wrong.
Leonhart's sharp eyes scanned the silent, ruined shelter.
Bodies lay strewn across the cavern floor, ripped apart, mauled, devoured. The goblin chief's corpse was slumped against the back wall, his throat torn open, entrails spilled.
The fire pit was cold. This happened hours ago.
One of the goblins whimpered. A hobgoblin tightened his grip on his crude weapon.
Leonhart remained calm.
Whoever did this is long gone.
His gaze flickered to the surroundings—no survivors, no lingering scents of living creatures. The attackers had eaten their fill and left.
They were wiped out… but by what?
A guttural growl escaped him, but he quickly suppressed it.
"We can't stay here," he said. "We move. Now."
They obeyed without question. They had no home anymore.
They needed to find one.
⸻
The Search for Shelter
The group moved through the dense forest, navigating carefully.
Leonhart took the lead, his experience keeping them away from stronger threats. The goblins, though shaken, followed without hesitation.
The mage, bound and weakened, struggled to keep pace.
She tripped. Fell.
Leonhart grabbed her by the collar, yanking her back to her feet.
"Keep moving," he said coldly.
She glared up at him. "You expect me to—"
He squeezed just enough to cut off her words.
"I expect you to live," he said simply. "Unless you want to be left behind."
The defiance in her eyes flickered.
She stumbled forward, but kept going.
Hours passed.
Then—Leonhart saw it… A cave, half-hidden by thick foliage, large enough to house them all.
But as he stepped inside, his instincts flared.
This place… it's been lived in before.
Scratches lined the walls, faint but unmistakable. Bones—picked clean—lay in the corners, long abandoned.
There were no fresh tracks, no lingering scents, only remnants of a past predator… It would do.
Leonhart exhaled sharply. "This is our new home. Secure it. Now."
The goblins obeyed without hesitation, setting up crude defenses and gathering food. Meanwhile, his attention shifted to the human mage, still bound, her sharp eyes watching him closely.
"You're different," she finally said. "You think like them. Like humans."
Leonhart met her gaze, unreadable. "And?"
"And that means you need me," she said carefully. "You're smart enough to know I'm more valuable alive than dead. I can teach you things. Magic. Strategy. If you let me live."
He stared at her intensely for a moment before a dark thought settled in his mind.
She will be useful… but not in the way she thinks. Smirk
Goblins bred fast. If he wanted an army, he needed numbers, and humans had always been a source of goblin offspring. She could serve that purpose.
Still, he didn't need to say it outright. Instead, he turned away. "You'll prove your worth soon enough."
Days passed. Leonhart wasted no time organizing the goblins. He implemented formations, divided them into units, and trained them to work as a cohesive force. The tribe grew—five new goblins were born within the week, increasing their numbers.
The process was crude but effective. The captive mage resisted at first, but as the days went by, she realized her position was hopeless. The goblins saw her as nothing more than a means to increase their numbers, and Leonhart made sure she served her purpose. Within days, signs of pregnancy showed, and soon, more would follow.
The tribe was expanding, and with each new birth, Leonhart's army grew stronger.
But one thing continued to frustrate him.
Mana… Why can't I use it?
Every attempt ended in failure. He could feel it—sense the energy flowing around him—but it refused to obey his will. Humans wielded it so effortlessly, yet it remained out of his grasp.
He clenched his fists. I need to find a way. Without mana, I'll never surpass them.
For now, he had taken the first step. He had a base, an army in its infancy, and a plan.
But this was only the beginning.