Leonhart stood at the cave entrance, his golden eyes scanning the dense forest beyond. The events of the past days had changed him. The mana now flowed through his veins, reshaped by his monstrous body, no longer rejecting him but bending to his will. Yet, power alone was not enough. He needed more.
He turned back to the goblins huddled within the cavern—his tribe, if they could be called that. Twelve in total, excluding himself. Too few. Too weak. That had to change.
"Gather," he commanded.
The goblins obeyed, forming a rough semicircle around him. Two hobgoblins stood taller than the rest, their crude weapons in hand. He needed them organized, efficient. A proper force.
"We are too few," he stated, his voice carrying through the cave. "That will change."
The goblins muttered among themselves, but none dared challenge him.
Leonhart continued, his gaze sharp. "We will scout this land. We will find what belongs to us. And we will take it."
The hobgoblin to his right grunted. "Take what?"
Leonhart's lips curled into a predatory smile. "Women. Humans. For breeding."
The goblins perked up, eyes gleaming with primal excitement. They knew what this meant—the promise of more goblins, a growing horde. Survival ensured through numbers.
"But before that," Leonhart said, "we must know our territory. Strength comes from knowledge."
He turned to the hobgoblin on his left. "You, Gurruk, will take three goblins and scout the eastern side of this cave. Look for trails, human activity, or other creatures that may threaten us."
Gurruk thumped his chest in acknowledgment.
Leonhart's gaze shifted to the other hobgoblin. "Drog, you'll take four and search the western side. Find water, food sources, and safe paths for travel."
Drog nodded, a flicker of understanding in his small, beady eyes.
"I will explore the north," Leonhart finished. "I will map our surroundings and find a suitable location for expansion."
The goblins shuffled but did not question his authority. They had seen his power. They knew better than to challenge him.
He turned to the captive mage, now bound deeper within the cavern. Her face was pale, her wrists nothing but bandaged stumps. She had learned her place.
"You're coming with me," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.
She flinched, eyes narrowing. "Why?"
"Because you still have knowledge I need."
She scoffed but did not refuse. She knew there was no point. Even without hands, she could still be useful.
With their tasks set, the groups departed into the wilderness.
⸻
Mapping the Unknown
Leonhart moved through the dense undergrowth with a predator's grace, his captive trailing behind. He had fashioned a rough map on a piece of animal hide, using charcoal from the fire to sketch out the landmarks he encountered. The cave lay at the center, and he marked paths leading outward. If they were to grow, they needed to understand their domain.
The forest was teeming with life—deer, boars, and even signs of wolves. A good hunting ground. Further north, he discovered a stream, its water clear and untainted. He knelt, running his fingers through the cool liquid. A potential lifeline.
As he rose, he noticed the mage watching him, her expression unreadable.
"You're thorough," she remarked.
He ignored her, focusing instead on the faint footprints along the bank—human tracks, several days old. His eyes gleamed.
Humans.
He traced the footprints carefully, noting the direction they led. A settlement, perhaps? A lone traveler? Either way, it was a lead. He would return later with his goblins.
They continued their search, marking cave entrances, steep ravines, and dense thickets—places to avoid or exploit. The sun began to set, casting an amber glow over the forest.
⸻
The First Raid
By the time Leonhart returned to the cave, Gurruk and Drog had already gathered with their reports.
Gurruk stepped forward. "Found a human trail east. Smelled smoke. Maybe a camp."
Drog grunted. "West is good. Freshwater. Found a dead deer—something big killed it. Might be dangerous."
Leonhart absorbed the information. Humans nearby. A predator in the west. Both needed addressing.
He turned to his goblins. "We strike tonight."
Excitement buzzed through the tribe. This would be their first real test—a raid for survival, for growth. The weak would perish. The strong would rise.
As darkness fell, Leonhart led his goblins toward the human camp. His new empire would be built on blood, and tonight, it would begin.