CHAPTER 246: GARNET

I turned slightly, my eyes landing on Gork. He had been under Jael’s for a time, and if anyone understood the reasoning behind the setup, it would be him.

"Gork," I asked, voice low but firm, "was there a specific reason for the towers? Why build them with such urgency?"

He nodded without hesitation, like he’d been waiting for the question.

"Yes. For the King’s Game."

The moment those words left his mouth, my spine straightened, and my ears perked up.

"The King’s Game?" I repeated slowly.

He nodded. "Jael believed the first phase would involve defending against waves of monsters. A raid, most likely. The idea was that each participating clan would be attacked and tested—if your defenses failed and the clan got wiped out, that was it. Disqualified. Done."

My fingers tapped the armrest of the chair.

That sounded like something the system would do. Harsh, straightforward, and brutal.

"So he was fortifying everything in anticipation of that?" I asked.

"Yes," Gork confirmed. "He was pushing to finish the towers quickly. And he had plans beyond that. He wanted to construct full brick walls around the camp, a proper defensive perimeter reinforced with magic-infused garnets. Said it would make the whole camp resistant to magical bombardment and brute force."

I let out a low hum, nodding as I processed the information.

"But," Gork added, his voice dropping slightly, "there wasn’t enough time."

"So he settled for wooden barricades and focused on the towers," I muttered.

"Yeah. They were faster to construct, easier to enchant. He had already embedded some of the garnets into the tower foundations and wooden stakes before..." Gork trailed off, his expression tightening. "Before you killed him."

"Hm," I muttered, absorbing everything he just said.

So Jael had intended to build two more towers and reinforce the entire perimeter using this garnet. I’d have to carry on where he left off.

But first, I needed to understand the material he placed so much faith in.

"Gork," I said, leaning slightly forward, "what exactly is this garnet?"

"It’s a magical core," he answered. "When embedded into a structure, it creates a protective barrier around the clan. It doesn’t just defend against physical attacks—it reinforces the very materials it’s bound to. Jael said it’s essential. Without it, a clan would be like meat left out in the open."

I frowned. "It’s that important?"

"Yes," he replied without hesitation. "He said the first phase of the King Game would be brutal. That any clan without garnets wouldn’t survive the opening wave.’"

Brutal.

"We were going to steal it," Gork added. "From a rival clan. Jael had everything planned. But then he sensed something was wrong. We thought maybe our target got wind of the attack and decided to strike first..."

He paused, eyes narrowing.

"But it wasn’t them. It was..."

He paused.

Me of course.

"This clan you were about to attack," I said, narrowing my eyes, "the chief... he’s a candidate too, right?"

He nodded. "He is. That’s why we targeted them. The plan was simple: take them down, secure the garnets, and remove a competitor in one move."

So now I had a clear target. One I’d need to face anyway.

Good. Defeating another candidate was one of the requirements for entering the King’s Game, and now the opportunity was sitting in front of me, wrapped in the ruins of Jael’s unfinished plan.

"How many goblins are in that clan?" I asked, my tone measured.

Gork didn’t hesitate. "Close to two hundred."

That made me pause.

Flogga gasped under her breath.

Even Narg looked like he’d swallowed something sour.

"Twenty of them are Chosen," Gork added. "That includes the chief, of course. But it doesn’t stop there. Some of the goblins... they’re offspring of Chosen. Born from their bloodlines. They’ve got abnormal strength, speed, magic—things that don’t make sense for regular goblins."

Makes sense. Offspring of the Chosen usually awaken superior abilities—or at the very least, show remarkable combat instincts or intelligence. That much was clear just looking at Zarah... and Narg.

Even Zivra.

But I wasn’t afraid of that.

With [Skill Share], I had the means to level the playing field. I could make any goblin I chose as strong as a Chosen, maybe even stronger, by transferring the very skills I’d inherited from the ones I killed.

Zarah, Thok, Narg... hell, even the new recruits could become monsters in their own right if I gave them the right tools.

All I needed was the numbers.

Still, something had been gnawing at the back of my mind for a while now, a question:

Was [Skill Share] something unique to me, or was it just a common ability granted to any goblin chief with enough strength or status?

"Gork," I said, turning to him, "did Jael ever share any skills with you? At any point?"

Gork narrowed his eyes, confusion wrinkling his forehead.

"What do you mean?"

I leaned in a little, lowering my voice. "I’m asking if Jael ever gave you one of his skills. Say he had a skill like [Fireball]—could he pass it on to you, let you use it just like he could?"

Gork blinked, caught between thought and disbelief.

"No... not once," he said slowly, brows tightening. "Is... is that even possible?"

So that confirmed one thing—he hadn’t experienced it.

But I couldn’t jump to conclusions just yet.

Maybe Jael had the ability and simply chose not to use it.

Or maybe he just never had the opportunity to test it out.

Just because Gork hadn’t received it didn’t mean other chiefs didn’t have the same skill tucked away in their arsenal.

I hadn’t gotten any system notification marking it as "exclusive."

Still...It was looking more and more like I was the only one who had it.

Even so, it was best not to get cocky.

I shifted gears.

"So... first things first. We need to secure those garnets. No matter what."

"At all costs," Gork echoed with a grim nod.

"Good," I said.

Then it was settled.

"You and I will go to the enemy base tomorrow to get it."

Gork went stiff and leaned his head towards me:

"I beg your pardon?"