It was barely dawn, the dew still damp in the valley, and Kurzadh was squatting beside his lean-to, staring blankly at the translucent interface that had suddenly popped up in his mind.
[Race: Greenskin - Goblin]
[Level: LV1]
[Waaagh! Energy: 35/100]
[Equipment: Stone spear (Crude but Usable)]
[Trait: None]
[Racial Trait: Infighting]
[Followers: Scarface (goblin), Dragu (hobgoblin), Wreelx (hobgoblin), goblin x 12]
"Well, at least it's honest," Kurzadh sneered.
Level 1, only 35 energy, not a single decent trait to speak of. Only the follower count looked halfway decent but by the time they got back today, that number was guaranteed to double.
He slammed the butt of his stone spear onto the ground: "Get up, all of you! Time to work!"
The greenskins in the valley were sleeping soundly, but Kurzadh's shout woke them up. The goblins scrambled up, squeaking, while Dragu and Wreelx rubbed their eyes and came over.
Yesterday, Kurzadh had announced they were going to deal with the Rotten Tooth tribe, and the two hobgoblins had been so excited they hadn't slept half the night; their eyes were still gleaming now.
"Boss, are we really going?" Wreelx rubbed his hands, a little fearful. "Wry-Mouth might be a coward, but he has seven or eight hobgoblins under him..."
"Coward," Dragu kicked him. "What's there to be afraid of when the boss is here? The boss is Chosen by the Gods!"
Kurzadh ignored the two hobgoblins bickering, pointing at the fishing nets piled nearby and the fish they had caught last night: "Take the fish, grab the nets, and let's go!"
The greenskins didn't dare delay. The goblins carried the nets, the hobgoblins carried the fish, and they followed Kurzadh toward the rocky thicket to the east.
The path was rough, full of slopes and dips. The short-legged goblins were panting heavily and tried to stop several times, but Kurzadh smacked them on the rear with the spear shaft, and they immediately bolted forward as if injected with adrenaline.
After walking for nearly four or five hours, the sun was directly overhead when Wreelx pointed to a patch of rugged, uneven ground ahead: "Boss, we're here! The Rocky Thicket!"
Kurzadh quickly ordered the group to stop, then took Scarface and Dragu, crouching low, and slipped into the woods bordering the thicket.
Pushing aside the leaves, they saw greenskins in the clearing in the middle of the thicket, several hobgoblins were sprawled lazily on rocks, basking in the sun like lords. Surrounding them were over forty goblins, some lying on the ground playing dead, others gnawing on tree bark, their mouths full of wood shavings.
Whether hobgoblin or goblin, every single one was skin and bones, their green skin wrinkled and clinging to their skeletons. They looked even more wretched than Wreelx had when he was first captured.
"That's it?" Dragu curled his lip. "I thought they were supposed to be tough."
"Perfect." Kurzadh's eyes lit up.
The hungrier the greenskin, the easier they were to control, especially once they smelled food instantly had a plan. He pulled Scarface over and 'hissed' instructions, gesturing toward the fishing nets they had brought.
Scarface understood immediately with a quick look. He quickly took a few clever goblins, grabbed the nets, and slipped into the low bushes beside the thicket.
Next, Kurzadh pulled Dragu over and shoved the fish into his hands: "Go find a noticeable spot and roast the fish. Make the smell as strong as possible."
"Huh?" Dragu was stunned. "Just me?" He glanced at the greenskins in the thicket and swallowed. "What if they beat me up first?"
"Are you stupid?" Kurzadh glared at him. "They're so starved, they'll definitely chase you when they see the fish. Just run toward Scarface's location." He patted Dragu's shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll be right behind you."
Dragu was still uneasy, but reluctantly took the fish. He found a small clearing not far from the thicket, gathered some dry branches, struck sparks with a stone, and skewered the fish on a stick to roast it.
Before long, the smell of roasting fish wafted out. The sizzling fat dripped into the fire, making a crackling sound.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Kurzadh led the remaining greenskins back, hiding in the deeper bushes, leaving only a small gap to watch Dragu.
Sure enough, the greenskins in the thicket caught the scent.
The goblins who had been playing dead instantly sprang up, sniffing hard toward the sky, their eyes wide and round. The hobgoblins lying on the rocks also sat up.
One of them, with a crooked mouth and a missing front tooth, undoubtedly the "Wry-Mouth" that Wreelx had mentioned, sniffed, then jumped up: "Damn it! That's roasted meat!"
His shout made the surrounding greenskins even more frantic. They squeaked and howled, looking around wildly, and quickly spotted the roasted fish in Dragu's hands.
"There it is!" Wry-Mouth pointed at Dragu, his eyes bloodshot. "Chase him! Get the fish!"
He rushed out first, followed by two hobgoblins, and the forty-plus goblins behind them ran like maniacs, sweeping overwhelmingly toward Dragu.
When Dragu saw them charging, his hand trembled in fright, nearly dropping the roasted fish into the fire.
He couldn't worry about roasting it anymore. He grabbed the fish and ran toward Scarface's location, shouting as he ran: "Stop chasing! This is the boss's fish!"
Wry-Mouth didn't care about that; his eyes were fixed only on the sizzling, oily roasted fish. He sprinted after Dragu, running so fast he didn't watch his step, the moment he burst into the low bushes, he heard a *whoosh*, felt his feet lose ground, followed by a dull *thud*, and his body was instantly hoisted into the air!
It turned out that Scarface and the goblins had set up a simple snare trap in the bushes using the fishing net they spread the net on the ground, supported it with branches, and covered it with a layer of leaves and dirt. As soon as someone stepped on it and the branches snapped, the net would tighten and hoist the person up.
Wry-Mouth and the two hobgoblins following right behind him had stepped directly into the trap.
The net snapped shut, binding the three hobgoblins tightly and leaving them dangling in mid-air, swinging violently. Wry-Mouth roared in anger: "Damn it! It's a trap! Get me down!"
The hobgoblins and goblins following them rushed to the edge of the bushes, saw their boss hanging, and instantly froze. They stood rooted to the spot, looking at each other, not knowing what to do.
"Now! Charge!" Kurzadh roared, leaping out of the bushes and charging straight into the pile of greenskins with his stone spear raised.
The greenskins hiding nearby also charged forward, howling.
Scarface and the goblins threw stones at the crowd, while Dragu and Wreelx grabbed wooden clubs and chased after the goblins.
The enemy greenskins were already confused, and this sudden charge threw them into even greater panic.
The goblins were so terrified they flattened themselves on the ground. The hobgoblins tried to fight back, but before they could even move, Kurzadh knocked them senseless with the shaft of his spear, leaving them dizzy and disoriented.
Kurzadh struck with precision, careful not to kill them, focusing only on fleshy areas like their backs and butts. The greenskins howled in pain but sustained no serious injuries.
In no time, the remaining few hobgoblins and the forty-plus goblins were all beaten down, lying on the ground squeaking and howling, too afraid to move.
Kurzadh slammed his spear onto the ground and pointed at Wry-Mouth dangling in the air: "Listen up, all of you! From today on, I am your boss! Do you submit?"
The greenskins on the ground looked up at him, then at each other, their eyes full of hesitation.
This boss... is a goblin? Since when did a goblin become a boss among greenskins?
Wry-Mouth heard clearly from his perch in the air and struggled, cursing: "Bullshit! You stinking goblin, you think you deserve to be boss? When I get down, I'll break your legs!"
The few hobgoblins on the ground also shouted: "Exactly! Why should we listen to you!"
Kurzadh didn't rush, just gave a cold laugh: "Looks like some still don't submit." He pointed at the noisiest hobgoblin on the ground. "Scarface, haul him up for me."
Scarface immediately rushed over, grabbed the hobgoblin by the back of the neck, and dragged him over to Kurzadh like a chicken.
Kurzadh said nothing, just raised his hand and slapped the hobgoblin.
*Smack* went the loud, crisp sound. The hobgoblin saw stars, and blood dripped from the corner of his mouth.
"Do you submit?" Kurzadh asked.
The hobgoblin stubbornly retorted: "No!"
"Smack!" Another slap.
"Do you submit?"
"N"
"Smack! Smack! Smack!"
Kurzadh delivered over a dozen slaps, swelling the hobgoblin's face until he looked like a pig's head.
The hobgoblin finally broke, crying out: "I submit! I submit! boss, I submit!"
Kurzadh didn't stop, pointing at the next loudmouth: "And you."
Like carrying chickens, he dragged out the hobgoblins and goblins who had been the most vocal moments before, one by one, and gave them a thorough beating.
Some were slapped, some were kicked in the butt, and some were forced to knock their heads on the ground. Not one of them lasted more than three hits before begging for mercy, crying and wailing.
Wry-Mouth watched from above. His cursing grew fainter and fainter until he stopped cursing altogether, simply staring at Kurzadh, his eyes now tinged with fear.
Only when all the greenskins on the ground submitted did Kurzadh tell Scarface to lower Wry-Mouth and the other two hobgoblins.
The moment the three hobgoblins hit the ground, they dropped to their knees with a *thump*, afraid to look at Kurzadh.
"Alright." Kurzadh clapped his hands and pointed at the remaining roasted fish Dragu was holding. "Divide the fish and give it to them to eat."
Dragu paused, then obediently tore the roasted fish into small pieces and distributed them to the greenskins on the ground.
The greenskins were still sulking, but the moment they tasted the roasted fish, their eyes instantly lit up, it might have been flavorless and unsalted, but it was warm meat! They had been starving for days; even tree bark tasted good, let alone this roasted fish.
Each greenskin clutched their piece of fish, wolfing it down and making muffled sounds of enjoyment. Their gaze toward Kurzadh changed, sure, this boss was a goblin, but he hit hard and provided meat. Maybe... being his boss wasn't so bad after all?
Kurzadh watched their expressions and smiled inwardly.
Sure enough, the 'stick and carrot' approach worked everywhere.
He walked up to Wry-Mouth and squatted down: "Do you submit now?"
Wry-Mouth quickly nodded, his mouth still full of roasted fish, mumbling indistinctly: "Sub... submitted... boss..."
Kurzadh nodded in satisfaction.
He glanced around including the newcomers, he now had 10 hobgoblins and over 50 goblins under him. That was starting to look like a respectable small tribe.
"Get up, all of you." Kurzadh stood up and pointed back the way they came. "Follow me back to the tribe! Work hard from now on, and you'll have food to eat. But if anyone tries anything funny..." He shook the stone spear in his hand, leaving the sentence unfinished, but everyone understood the implication.
The greenskins scrambled up, heads bowed, and lined up behind Kurzadh.
The goblins formed a crooked, messy line, and the hobgoblins no longer dared to act like lords; they followed obediently.
Dragu and Wreelx walked beside Kurzadh, both smiling.
The Blackrock tribe was finally growing stronger!
Kurzadh glanced back at the greenskins following him, then checked the interface in his mind.
The number of followers had indeed doubled, and the Waaagh! energy had also increased to 60.
He grinned, raising his stone spear and walking forward. The sunlight fell on him; though he still had the small physique of a goblin, he walked straighter than anyone else.