In the Rock-Biting Tribe, the class hierarchy is strict, and every goblin knows their place, who is above them, and who is below them.
Above all goblins, there are two.
Broken Tooth Goruk, the Goblin Leader who can manipulate the Giant Arm Miner, and Pus Sore Groz, the Shaman of the Rock-Biting Tribe, who is also an Alchemist, mastering alchemy magic that is seen as advanced and magical by other goblins.
At this mont.
Broken Tooth Goruk was in the tribe’s open ground, cruelly impaling a goblin who challenged his authority, using a wooden fra to hoist him, igniting a bonfire to roast him directly, and letting the other goblins share the feast.
This Goblin Leader is already quite old.
Close to 30 years old.
Goblins have a lifespan of about fifty years, but 30 years is already very old.
Survival in the wilderness is tough, and resources available to the Rock-Biting Tribe are limited. Very few goblins live past 30, often dying in their teens.
Generally speaking.
A goblin of Goruk’s age would have been replaced by a younger one.
But through his ruthless killings and years of wily experience, he still tightly controls everything in the Rock-Biting Tribe, sitting on the highest throne of power.
He alone can command the Giant Arm Miner.
This was sothing the Rock-Biting Tribe once paid a great price for, starving many tribesn to scrape together the money to buy it from a passing caravan.
The Giant Arm Miner, a humanoid alchemy golem.
Eight ters tall at the shoulders, with exposed seams on riveted steel plates, it has a rugged, primitive style. Its thick, long arms and shovel-like hands can reach the ground, seemingly able to shatter marble with a light tap.
From its na, one knows it’s used for mining, but its size and tonnage can also be used for slaughter and battle.
Sitting in the cockpit of the Giant Arm Miner’s chest.
Broken Tooth Goruk felt himself grow taller, looking down on the other tiny goblins, with a lofty feeling of being able to decide the life and death of other goblins at will.
Especially after recently scaring off a young dragon.
This inflated Broken Tooth Goruk’s vanity to the extre, feeling that the Dragon Race is nothing special. If he had a better alchemy golem, he would even dare to hunt young dragons, or even adult dragons.
"Too bad that young dragon got away."
"If I could catch it, I could buy an even better alchemy golem."
"I wonder if the Wolf Cavalry has tracked it down now."
Thought Goruk.
Suddenly, he seed to see a shadow dart across the sky, flashing away.
"What was that?"
Goruk was startled, but quickly cald down. The shadow seed like an illusion and had disappeared, leaving the sky as peaceful as ever.
At the sa ti.
In the Alchemy Workshop, an extrely ugly goblin was flipping through sothing.
Its gray-green skin was full of cracked patterns, yellow-green mucus seeping from the cracks, emitting a pungent sll like rotten flesh mixed with sulfur. Its back was swollen with dozens of fist-sized lumps, transparent like pustules, filled with pus of various colors.
Pus Sore Groz, the Shaman of the Rock-Biting Tribe.
It was engrossed, flipping through a thin little booklet in its hands.
The cover of the booklet had a few words on it.
[Beginner’s Alchemy Manual]
This alchemy manual was found by Groz, but unfortunately, due to limited literacy and no guidance, he could barely understand the illustrations. Over the years, through constant exploration, accidentally getting covered in sores, he managed to grasp so basic alchemy runes.
Every ti Groz flips through the alchemy manual, it has different feelings.
Unlike other ignorant tribesn content with the present and muddled lives, Groz likes knowledge, likes research, likes communicating with other intelligent creatures.
It thinks it might be a genius.
If not born in a small place like the Rock-Biting Tribe, it would definitely have a very bright future.
Through so rare communication, Groz learned that beyond the wilderness exists a civilization called the Lothern Federation, which contains a goblin kingdom. It’s said that the goblins there are wise and civilized, unlike the coarse and ignorant goblins of the Rock-Biting Tribe, whom it despises, and it’s also a place it yearns for.
After flipping through the alchemy manual for a while.
Groz gently put it down, carefully storing it in a black wooden box to prevent damage.
Only then did it notice the communication stone at its waist was glowing slightly.
Picking it up, placing it near its ear.
Groz’s expression imdiately changed dramatically, bursting many of the sores on its face due to the intense expression change.
"Dragon! A powerful black and red young dragon!"
"It is slaughtering us!"
It had just heard the hoarse cries, pleas for rcy, and the sound of dragon wings slicing through the air.
Beside the voice, there was a vague general direction within the ssage.
"Black and red young dragon?"
Groz paced in the room, realizing the seriousness of the problem—the Wolf Cavalry is likely annihilated.
"Should I tell Goruk the news, and take advantage of the night to launch a surprise attack?"
Initially, Groz thought so.
But soon it dismissed the idea.
A young dragon capable of wiping out the Wolf Cavalry, leaving none to escape, is anything but ordinary. Relying on the goblins of the Rock-Biting Tribe, and one Giant Arm Miner, a sneak attack might not kill it.
"Cannot tell Goruk the news. He is currently very full of himself and foolish, unable to recognize his position."
"Why not sell the news to the caravan?"
Groz thought.
It had a way to contact the caravan from which they had initially bought the Giant Arm Miner.
Perhaps it could sell the young dragon’s news to the caravan for so benefits.
But that’s a dragon.
A dragon ans wealth and the hope of leaving the wilderness.
Groz pondered deeply, ultimately deciding to first send so goblins skilled in reconnaissance to see the situation; if there is any chance, they would hunt the young dragon at any cost, otherwise, notify the caravan and sell the information.
Just as Groz was thinking this.
Suddenly, a loud commotion arose outside.
Soon after.
Bang! With a deafening montum, the ground shook violently as if an extraterrestrial teorite had fallen. Cracks extended under Groz’s feet.
It lost its footing, staggered back a few steps, and fell to the ground.
"What happened?"
Groz felt panic in its heart, and after getting up, ran out of the Alchemy Workshop.
In the instant of opening the door, its vision was filled with dust and flas, a black-red streak flashing through the dust, and Groz’s pupils finally caught the source of the disaster.
It was a naless dragon clad entirely in black iron-cast dragon scales, with dark red molten patterns flowing on them.
At this mont, it was slowly rising, standing over a ring-shaped pit caused by its crash, within which were so corpses smashed into mince.
Its large wings, covered with feather-like scales and edges like blades, spread wide.
With a slight swing, it cut several goblins around into halves who couldn’t dodge in ti; their leather armor was as fragile as paper.
It was Galos.
He ca after all.
Originally, Galos thought that a goblin tribe that couldn’t even catch Samantha shouldn’t pose a threat to him and could be ignored, but then he reconsidered and realized he might have been arrogant, not to underestimate the opponent so lightly.
Arrogance is the biggest killer of the Dragon Race, bar none.
Galos thought, after all, goblins are intelligent creatures, not savage beasts. The tribe possessing an alchemy golem likely had contact with the outside world and possibly channels of communication with other intelligent beings.
With this in mind.
Galos, who cherished his life greatly, beca a bit afraid. He did not want to give up Iron Pine Hills, nor did he want to encounter unexpected attacks.
This fear.
Led Galos to decide to preemptively eliminate the source of his fear completely, so he could be at peace.
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