The return of the nameless Stonehide Chieftess and her four honor guards to the mine was a sight that sent ripples of terror and awe through the goblin ranks. The sun had dipped low, casting long shadows across the entrance as they emerged from the foothills like figures from a nightmare. The Chieftess led, her white hair flowing like a banner of snow in the wind, her massive frame clad in black iron armor etched with runes that seemed to pulse with their own faint light. Her broadsword, still flecked with dried blood from earlier kills, hung at her side, the blade's edge nicked but unbowed. Behind her, the four orcs moved in perfect silence, their gray cloaks blending with the twilight, faces hidden beneath bone helms that made them look like death's own messengers. Each carried an axe or spear, weapons that gleamed with fresh oil, ready for more.
The goblins at the entrance spotted them first—a sentry on the makeshift watchtower let out a sharp whistle, the sound piercing the evening calm like a warning arrow. Word spread fast: "The white-hair's back!" "The giants are here!" Goblins poured out from the tunnels, tools and weapons in hand, but not to fight. They knew these orcs could slaughter them all if they wanted—the Chieftess had already proven it by cutting down twenty of Kraghul's warriors without a scratch. Fear gripped them like cold fingers around the throat, hearts pounding, skin prickling with gooseflesh. Yet mixed with the terror was gratitude; these orcs had liberated the mine, driven off the invaders, saved what little remained of their home.
As the Chieftess approached the gates, the goblins split like the Red Sea before a divine command. They backed away in waves, pressing against the walls or retreating into side tunnels, creating a wide path of bare stone. Whispers rippled through the crowd: "Don't look her in the eyes." "She's the one who flayed the orc alive." The honor guards followed without a word, their boots thudding softly on the ground, the only sound in the sudden hush. Naruz and Drekk trailed behind, having returned from their fruitless hunt. Naruz's massive orc frame was slumped, her golden eyes shadowed with dejection—she had been searching for Vrognut, while Drekk scouted for Kraghul. Different goals, same failure. Borkle had done well to conceal Vrognut's scent in the punishment cage deep below; no one, not even the keen-nosed Drekk, had picked up on it.
The group passed through the gates unhindered, the goblins watching with wide eyes, a cocktail of emotions churning in their chests—gratitude for the liberation, fear of the power that could turn against them in an instant. The Chieftess didn't acknowledge them; her red gaze stayed fixed ahead, as if the goblins were mere scenery.
They were granted passage to an area allocated just for them—a sealed-off section towards the back end of this camp, barricaded with fresh timber and guarded by their own. No goblins allowed. They walked passed the goblins with a heavy thud, leaving the mine's inhabitants to exhale in collective relief.
But the Chieftess looked at the keep where Byung was and noticed there was no one in there, it was either he had died or recovered, the latter seemed impossible as they all disappeared from sight soon after.
Naruz didn't linger. Her steps were heavy as she peeled away, heading straight for Byung's room. The dejected slump in her shoulders deepened; the way the goblins had reacted to the Chieftess—cowering, whispering—mirrored how they might react to her, an orc in their midst. She assumed Byung was still in his critical state, bandaged and unresponsive, the reason for her restless hunt to distract herself. The door already being opened, she froze.
The room was empty—no Borkle standing guard, no figure on the bed. The blankets were rumpled, the torches were out. Panic surged through her like a wildfire, her heart pounding in her ears.
"No... he couldn't have..." she whispered, voice cracking. Had he died? Slipped away in the night? The thought spiraled her into madness, breath coming in short gasps, fists clenching until her nails bit into her palms.
Before the panic could consume her, a gentle hand landed on her shoulder. Maui stood there, her seven-foot frame filling the doorway, green eyes soft with understanding.
"Easy, sister," Maui said, voice a low rumble.
"He's alright. Better than alright," Maui said with a bright smile on her face.
Naruz whirled, relief flooding her so fast it made her knees weak. She sagged against the wall, the cold stone grounding her.
"Where? How?" Naruz didn't believe her. Maui smiled faintly.
"He's resting elsewhere. Needed space. I'll take you to him soon—let him get his head straight first," Maui informed her.
Naruz nodded, calming her racing heart with deep breaths. But then the bigger problem hit her like a falling rock.
"The Chieftess... she's still here for the duel. With Byung. In his condition? It's madness," Naruz informed Maui, hoping she could put a stop to it.
Maui's face hardened because she shared the same sentiment but there was nothing she could do. The entire reason the Chieftess helped them was to preserve her duel with Byung otherwise they would have all been dead. This showed how seriously she took these things.
"No one knew he'd wake. The timeframe for the fight was tomorrow. If he didn't wake up before the time elapsed. she was going to rip out his heart and take it with her. This is the best case scenario," Maui admitted. At least she knew the orc was one of her vow but also knew now was the time to trust Byung.
They needed the Stonehide on their side, this was proof of that and if Byung could win her over, what they could accomplish would become endless.
Naruz's fists clenched again, the wood of the doorframe creaking under her grip.
"We can't let that happen," Naruz protested because unlike Maui, she didn't hold that much belief in his fighting ability.
She's... she's a monster. But during the time she has been here, she has been providing protection. Tended to his wounds personally. Increased his chances to even wake up," Maui reminded her.
Naruz had no choice but to concede, there was nothing she could do but for the most part, she wanted to see Byung.
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