CHAPTER 245: FOUNDATIONS

We walked the rest of the way in silence, our hands brushing occasionally but not holding. Still, the tension between us was gone, replaced by something quieter. Calmer. Real.

When we reached the brick house, I stepped forward and pushed the door open.

It creaked slightly on its hinges, the faint smell of fresh clay and wood oil wafting from inside. A round table sat at the center of the room—crude but solid, made from thick-cut timber resting on uneven legs. Around it were several mismatched chairs. Nothing fancy, but it did the job.

Flogga, Narg, and Gork were seated near the far end of the table, the seat at the very head left empty—clearly reserved for me.

The moment they saw me step inside, the three of them stood up almost in sync, their voices overlapping in greeting.

"Chief."

"Chief."

"Young Totem."

That last one came from Flogga, of course.

I stepped further into the room, my eyes casually sweeping across the space as I spoke. "What were you three discussing?"

The room was surprisingly well-lit—small oil lamps hung from the walls, giving off a soft, warm glow that filled the corners without casting too many shadows. It felt lived-in, functional, but still... comfortable. The walls were stone but smoother than I expected, and tucked into the back was a wooden staircase leading upward. Likely to a second floor—probably where the previous chief slept.

It wasn’t luxurious by any means, but compared to a damp cave or straw-packed lean-to, this? This was a damn palace.

"I could get used to this," I muttered under my breath.

"Nothing much," Flogga said aloud, drawing my attention back. "I was just informing Gork I was once a Chosen."

Gork had a visibly stunned look on his face, like he hadn’t quite processed the reveal.

I made my way to the seat at the head of the table and sat, Zarah settling into the seat to my immediate right, calm and composed.

Gork took his seat beside Zarah, with Flogga, and Narg also dropping back to theirs.

The chair was surprisingly comfortable—more than I expected from something built by a goblin. It had weight, balance, and even a slight recline, like whoever carved it actually gave a damn about posture. That alone earned my respect.

Curious, I turned to Gork.

"Who made this furniture?" I asked, tapping the armrest lightly.

"One of the workers," he replied.

"And this place?" I asked, glancing around again, my tone amused. "This whole building... how was it built?"

Gork shifted in his seat, thinking for a moment.

"It was already standing when I got here," he said. "But I heard it was Bundi’s work."

"Bundi?"

That name struck a chord.

If I remembered right, Bundi was the very first goblin who swore allegiance to me after the clan split. Quiet type. Small, even by goblin standards. But clearly, there was more to him than I’d realized.

So he was the builder, huh?

That meant I needed to have a proper conversation with him.

Him—and others like him.

Talia came to mind too, along with every goblin in the clan that had a work-related class tied to construction, crafting, farming, or logistics. They weren’t fighters, sure, but their value wasn’t in battle. It was in what they could build—what they could create.

And if we were serious about expanding this clan into something that could rival the others, then these goblins weren’t just background players. They were the foundation.

"So, Narg," I said, settling further into the chair, "what’s the current status of the clan? And more importantly, areas we caan improve?"

Narg straightened in his seat, always the soldier when duty called.

"With the newly added goblins," he began, his tone precise and clipped, "our total count now stands at thirty-nine."

Thirty-nine.

Not bad.

A decent number to work with, especially considering how few we had after the last raid. But still far from what I needed. To participate in the King’s Game, one of the mandatory requirements was a hundred goblins under my banner. I was still over sixty short.

I made a mental note: I’d need to act fast—recruit more, absorb stragglers, take in loners, maybe even offer sanctuary to weaker bands. Whatever it took to meet that threshold before the gates opened.

"Most of the new recruits are workers," Narg continued, "builders, foragers, a few healers. There are also a couple of children. None of them are fit for combat, at least not yet."

That was fine. I wasn’t looking for an army of warriors. Not now. What I needed most was numbers

—breathing, loyal goblins. Fighters could be trained. Workers could serve other functions. This stage was about meeting the system’s demands, not fielding an elite squad.

"And the camp?" I asked.

Narg nodded. "The camp’s big—takes a while to walk from one end to the other. The whole place is circled with wooden stakes, all sharpened and angled outward. Looks like they were meant to stop beasts or intruders from charging in. Whoever set it up knew what they were doing. There is no wide gaps, and no easy ways through."

He paused, then added, "I also found a few totems placed at key corners. Old ones, carved with runes. Likely meant to ward off low-tier beasts. They’re faint, but still active."

I nodded slowly.

That meant the foundation was better than I thought.

Good.

"Now," Narg continued, "as you’ve likely seen, there are numerous tents—more than enough to accommodate our current numbers, and more. There’s also a well-structured hut where they’ve been storing food. I checked it myself, and there are roots, dried meat, smoked fish, and what looks like tubers. Judging by the quantity, we’ve got enough supplies to feed everyone for at least a month, maybe two if we ration smartly."

That was excellent news.

One less thing to worry about for now. I gave a quiet nod, satisfied with what I was hearing.

"There’s also another building apart from this one," Narg went on, "not as large, but more isolated. I’ve been told the previous shaman used it as his workspace. Apparently, he dabbled in alchemy."

"Oh?" I turned toward Flogga, who was listening with interest. "That could be useful for you."

She nodded once.

Narg wasn’t finished.

"There are also two watchtowers," he said, "one in the northern section and the other in the south. Not massive, but tall enough to provide a clear vantage point past the barricades. Good for early threat detection."

I nodded again. That kind of infrastructure wasn’t common in goblin camps. Someone had clearly invested thought into this place’s defenses.

"There are also foundations laid out in the east and west," he added. "Looks like the former builders were planning to set up additional towers there. The markings are clear, and some materials are stacked nearby, but construction hasn’t started yet."

Oh, so Jael had been focused on security.

That wasn’t surprising. In fact, it was smart. But the more I thought about it, the more I suspected he hadn’t been doing it solely for defense against beasts.

No. This smelled of preparation for something more... organized.

Other Chosen.

I turned slightly, my eyes landing on...