My Goblin System : Levelling up with my SSS Class Devouring skill Chapter 291

[The Next Day]

Satou woke to warmth on both sides.

The morning sun filtered through the repaired sections of his quarters’ ceiling—craftsn had worked through the night to fix the hole TheReaper’s ssage had left. Soft light painted the room in shades of gold and amber, falling across the two won sleeping beside him.

Jessica was curled against his left side, her pink hair spread across his chest like silk. Her breathing was deep and even, one hand resting over his heart as if checking its rhythm even in sleep. Her healing magic had beco so instinctive that Satou could feel faint traces of it emanating from her touch—a constant, unconscious effort to keep him healthy and whole.

Lyra occupied his right side, her body pressed close but her posture sohow remaining tactical even in rest. One of her legs was hooked over his, anchoring him in place, while her hand rested on his shoulder. Her dark hair frad her face, and even in sleep, her expression carried a hint of the calculating intelligence that made her such an effective administrator.

For a mont, Satou simply lay there, not wanting to disturb either of them. This peace—this quiet intimacy—felt precious. Especially knowing what was coming.

One month. Maybe less.

Three thousand human soldiers. Four overpowered heroes. Siege weapons and mage support.

And sowhere out there, Richard Clay wandered alone and vulnerable, representing their best chance to cripple Chronus permanently.

The weight of it all pressed down on him, but the warmth of Jessica and Lyra on either side kept the anxiety from overwhelming him completely.

"You’re thinking too loud," Lyra murmured without opening her eyes. Her hand moved from his shoulder to his face, fingers tracing his jawline. "I can practically hear the tactical calculations happening in your head."

"Sorry," Satou whispered. "Didn’t an to wake you."

"You didn’t." Lyra’s eyes finally opened—sharp and alert despite having just woken up. "I’ve been awake for ten minutes. Waiting to see how long you’d lie here brooding before getting up to save the world."

Jessica stirred on his other side, making a small sound of protest at the conversation disturbing her sleep. "Is it morning already?" she mumbled into his chest. "Tell the sun to go away. We’re sleeping."

"It’s past dawn," Lyra said, her voice carrying fond amusent. "Which ans we’re already behind schedule for today’s preparations."

"Five more minutes," Jessica negotiated, burrowing closer to Satou. "The war can wait five minutes."

Satou felt his chest tighten with affection. This—these two won who loved him enough to share him, who supported his impossible goals while keeping him grounded—this was worth fighting for. Worth surviving for.

"Five minutes," he agreed, wrapping his arms around both of them.

Lyra made a sound that might have been approval or resignation, then settled back against him. "Fine. But after five minutes, we’re getting up and facing reality."

"Reality is overrated," Jessica mumbled.

"Reality is trying to kill us with three thousand soldiers," Lyra countered.

"See? Overrated."

Despite everything—the looming war, the political machinations, the impossible odds—Satou found himself smiling. These monts of normalcy, of simple human (well, goblin) connection, made all the struggles worthwhile.

They lay there in comfortable silence, three people stealing a few precious minutes of peace before the storm.

By the ti they finally got up and dressed, the settlent was already buzzing with activity. News of the impending human attack had spread overnight—not the specific details, but enough to know that serious threat was coming.

Satou erged from his quarters with Jessica and Lyra flanking him, and imdiately noticed the changes in atmosphere. Where yesterday there had been casual confidence, today there was focused urgency.

Goblins and hobgoblins moved with purpose, checking weapons, organizing supplies, reinforcing defensive positions. Orcs gathered in training groups, their massive forms engaged in combat drills that shook the ground. The settlent’s few mages were in the courtyard, practicing coordinated spellwork.

Urgak approached as soon as he spotted Satou. The one-ard orc chieftain looked like he hadn’t slept at all—his eyes were bloodshot, his jaw tight with tension.

"Lord Satou," Urgak rumbled, his deep voice carrying exhaustion and determination in equal asure. "The warriors have been training since first light. Word spread about the human army. Everyone wants to be ready."

"Good," Satou said, clasping the orc’s shoulder. "But make sure they don’t exhaust themselves. We have weeks to prepare, not days. I need them sharp when the battle actually cos."

Urgak nodded slowly. "Weeks feels both too long and too short. The orcs are warriors—waiting for battle is harder than fighting it."

"I understand. But exhausted warriors die faster than rested ones."

"Truth," Urgak acknowledged. Then, quieter: "Three thousand humans. That’s... that’s a lot, Lord Satou. Even with Lord Loki and Lady Seraphina sending reinforcents."

"It is," Satou agreed, not sugarcoating the reality. "But we have advantages. We know they’re coming. We know their composition. We know their heroes’ abilities and weaknesses. And most importantly—" He looked around at the settlent’s defenders, seeing the determination in their faces. "—we’re fighting to protect our ho. They’re fighting because they were ordered to. That makes a difference."

Urgak’s jaw set. "Then we’ll make sure that difference matters."

As Urgak returned to organize the orc warriors, Kelvin jogged up. Satou’s adoptive brother and elite fighter looked energized rather than tired, his eyes bright with anticipation.

"Morning!" Kelvin said cheerfully. "Sleep well? Oh wait, dumb question—you had the two most beautiful won in the settlent keeping you company. Of course you slept well."

"Kelvin," Lyra said dryly, "if you’re trying to embarrass us, you’ll need to try harder."

"Wasn’t trying to embarrass. Was trying to make Satou smile before we dive into the nightmare of war planning." Kelvin’s grin was infectious. "Did it work?"

"Yes," Satou admitted. "Thank you."

"Excellent. Now, I organized the scout teams like you asked Lyra. We’ve got twenty-four hour periter coverage, rotating shifts so no one gets too tired. Also set up signal fires at key points—if anyone spots humans approaching, we’ll know imdiately."

"Good work," Satou said. Kelvin had beco increasingly competent as a tactical coordinator, his natural charisma making others want to follow his lead.