Maui and Naruz paced the main area of the mine, the air heavy with the earthy scent of damp stone. The space was a hive of subdued activity—goblins hammering at fresh barricades with rhythmic clangs that echoed off the walls, the sharp tang of metal shavings mixing with the sweat of labor. Goblins darted between legs, their laughter a fragile echo in the post-battle calm, while the survivors from other mines poured into this one which released a repulsive smell, they hadn't showered but this was the only mine that was secured. The sun had dipped low outside, casting shadows through the entrance, but Byung still hadn't returned from his "private time" after the spar.

Maui stopped her pacing, crossing her massive arms over her chest, her green eyes flicking to the tunnel mouth for the tenth time. Her tusks ground together with a low rasp, the sound barely audible over the bustle.

"He's been gone hours," she said, voice a deep rumble that carried worry like a hidden current.

"Said he needed space to think strategy for the duel, but this long? Something's wrong," Maui pointed out. She had been with Byung for quite sometime so it wouldn't be a surprise if she was right.

Naruz nodded, her own broad frame tense, one hand resting on the hilt of her axe as if expecting trouble. The scars on her green skin from the fight with Kraghul still pulled tight with every movement, a dull ache that mirrored her growing unease.

"He shouldn't be this long. The mine's secure, but with Kraghul out there... and Vrognut missing..." Her voice trailed off, the words hanging heavy. The two orcs had waited patiently at first, sitting on crates near the entrance, sharpening weapons with the rhythmic scrape of whetstone on steel. But as the sun sank and the lanterns were lit with soft pops and the smell of burning oil, worry had edged into panic. Byung's new body was strong, but he was still recovering—exhaustion could hit hard, or worse, an ambush they were unaware of.

"We can't wait anymore," Maui said finally, standing with a creak of her armor.

"Let's check with Naz. If anyone's seen him, it's her—she's got eyes everywhere these days," Maui hoped this was the case.

They moved through the gallery, goblins parting before them like leaves in a wind, their whispers following.

"The orcs... looking for the king." The tunnel leading to Naz was quieter, the air warmer from the small fire she kept burning for the baby. Maui knocked gently on the wooden door they had rigged for privacy, the sound a soft thud.

"Come in," Naz's voice called, muffled but steady.

They entered. The room was cozy now—clothes piled on the bed, the baby was scooped up in her gigantic arms as she rocked back and forth. Naz sat there, her green skin pale from exhaustion, but her eyes bright as she cradled her newborn against her chest. The baby suckled hungrily, tiny fists kneading her breast, the soft sucking sounds filling the space. Naz looked up, but her gaze was distant, as if she were in a world of her own. Motherhood had transformed her—given her a new purpose beyond the fight, beyond being just an orc in a world of constant death, she had brought life.

She was the first to survive hybrid childbirth, a miracle that had shifted something deep inside her. Her territorial instinct was fierce; she didn't let anyone take the baby, not even the father, Gribnox, who watched from a respectful distance.

"Maui, Naruz," Naz said softly, her voice warm but guarded. The baby's budding tusks peeked from gums as it nursed, but its body was goblin-small, composition lean and wiry, with only faint orcish ridges on the brow. It had a huge appetite, draining Naz with every feed, her breasts sore and heavy, but she didn't complain. This child was everything.

Before they could ask, Gribnox and Murkfang arrived, drawn by the same worry. Gribnox entered first, his armor still dented, face bruised but eyes soft as they landed on Naz and the baby. Murkfang followed, limping slightly, his bandages fresh. They had come to see the miracle baby again, drawn like moths to a flame. The infant cooed between sucks, oblivious to the tension.

Unlike Byung, the Chieftess had no interest in their injuries so it took a lot longer to heal without the proper care.

Everyone noticed it then—Naz's protectiveness had deepened. She held the child closer as they approached, her arms tightening instinctively.

"You can look," she said, voice firm.

"but don't touch." Not even Gribnox, the father, had held the baby yet. He had no problem with it; he still felt trapped in a dream, the miracle too surreal to push. Their lives had all changed the second Byung was born. Maui guessed it was due to the DNA of Byung's mother, her friend—the superior bloodline that had made Byung what he was, now passed through the goblin or some miracle to this new generation.

"Have you seen Byung?" Maui asked, voice tight with worry. Naz shook her head, rocking the baby gently.

"Not since this morning. Why?" Naz questioned with a raised brow.

"He's been gone for hours," Naruz said, her massive hands clenching.

"Said he needed time to think, but this long... we're worried. We would have followed him if we knew any better," Naruz was regretting her decision not to follow him. Gribnox rubbed his chin.

"He's changed. Stronger. But if he's not back soon—"

Murkfang nodded, his own worry mirroring theirs.

"We'll search the every corner of the mine if we have to. But something tells me there would be no need for any of that, he can handle himself better than we can," Murkfang responded.

But there was no time to gamble, they had to make sure with certainty even if there was a 1% chance something had happened to him.

They split up, the group fanning out through the tunnels, calling his name in echoes that bounced back unanswered.

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