Chapter 429: Refugees [2]
"At first, they approached our clan peacefully. We welcomed them, offered them food, and believed they had come to trade or seek shelter."
He paused, as though forcing himself to relive the memory.
"Then they started asking if we knew a goblin named Eli."
His gaze dropped to the ground.
"We told them we didn’t."
A bitter smile appeared on his face.
"That was enough."
"They decided we’d wasted their time."
His fingers tightened into fists.
"They slaughtered our clan."
"That..." Kharos muttered through gritted teeth. "...sounds exactly like something Raghul would do."
Razak gave a slow nod.
"We never stood a chance. They were all high level, and their leader..." He swallowed. "He was far beyond anything we’d ever seen."
His voice cracked slightly.
"They killed everyone."
He closed his eyes for a brief moment.
"Even our Chief."
Silence settled over the wall.
"Then how did you escape?" Zarah finally asked.
Razak looked back at the survivors waiting in the distance.
"I’m one of Drugar’s Blessed," he explained. "My blessing allows me to create portals that connect to places I’ve previously been. When the fighting became hopeless, I used it to get myself and as many of our people out as I could."
His shoulders slumped.
"It wasn’t enough."
A look of guilt crossed his face.
"But... they’re the only ones I managed to save."
"And you decided to come to our clan because...?" Zarah asked.
Razak lowered his head slightly before answering.
"I’d heard that a goblin named Jael, someone with the potential to become a King’s Game candidate, ruled this clan."
He took a slow breath.
"The rumors said he accepted clans that were willing to surrender rather than wiping them out."
His tired eyes drifted toward the survivors waiting behind him.
"So... I decided to take a chance."
A faint, bitter smile crossed his face.
"I hoped we’d either be accepted..."
He paused.
"...or put out of our misery."
His voice was steady, but the exhaustion behind it was impossible to miss.
"We can’t survive in the wilds much longer."
"Jael?" Kharos asked, looking around in confusion. "Who’s Jael?"
"He’s the former owner of this clan," Gobbo explained. "Eli defeated him and claimed the settlement."
Zarah nodded.
"Jael is dead," she said plainly. "This clan has a new Chief now."
The color drained from Razak’s face.
For a brief moment, disappointment flickered across his expression, as though the last bit of hope he’d been holding onto had slipped away.
Then, without another word, he dropped to both knees.
His forehead lowered until it nearly touched the ground.
"In that case..." he said, his voice trembling, "...I beg you to accept us."
He clenched his fists against the dirt.
"We’ll do anything."
His head remained bowed.
"If you want us to work, we’ll work. If you want us to serve, we’ll serve."
He swallowed hard.
"Please..."
"...don’t send us away."
The moment the rest of the goblins saw their representative fall to his knees, they did the same.
One after another, they knelt in the dirt, heads lowered and hands raised in silent plea. Their faces were filled with desperation, exhaustion, and the last traces of hope they had left.
None of them spoke.
They simply waited.
Nira turned toward Zarah.
"What do we do now?"
Zarah let out a quiet sigh.
On the surface, there was no obvious reason to reject them. Razak’s story was consistent, the oath prevented him from lying, and everything they had described sounded believable.
Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease, as these survivors had crossed paths with Raghul. The very goblin they considered the greatest threat to the clan at the moment.
"Their story adds up," she said after a moment.
"I still think we should contact the Chief," Narg said, remaining the most skeptical among them.
Zarah looked at him.
"This isn’t the first time we’ve accepted new members without the Chief’s involvement, Narg."
"Those were completely different situations," Narg countered. "Back then, we were the ones actively seeking numbers. We chose which clans to attack, who to spare, and who to bring into our ranks. These goblins came to us asking for shelter. That changes things."
"If we have them swear their loyalty to the clan," Gobbo suddenly suggested, "I don’t see any reason we can’t accept them."
The moment the words left his mouth, Narg shot him a sharp glare.
Gobbo simply shrugged.
Narg turned back to Zarah.
"I say we send them away."
"And if they run into Raghul again?" Gobbo immediately asked. "What happens if they tell him where we are?"
"They don’t know Eli is our Chief."
"No," Gobbo agreed. "But they do know this settlement is protected by a King’s Game barrier."
He gestured toward the shimmering barrier surrounding the clan.
"It wouldn’t take much for Raghul to connect the dots. If he’s searching for a goblin named Eli and learns that a King’s Game candidate rules this settlement..."
Gobbo let the sentence trail off.
"...he’ll figure out this is the clan he’s looking for."
Narg let out a slow sigh.
As much as he disliked admitting it, everyone was beginning to realize that simply turning the survivors away might not be an option.
"Then we kill them instead."
A brief silence followed.
Gobbo blinked.
"Okay... there’s no need to jump to that conclusion."
"It’s the safest option," Narg replied without the slightest change in expression.
Gobbo stared at him.
"Are you even hearing yourself?"
Before the argument could escalate any further, Zarah stepped in.
"Enough."
She looked directly at Narg.
"We need numbers. We can’t go around killing goblins just because they might become a problem."
"Which is exactly why I’ve been saying we should contact the Chief," Narg answered. "He should be the one making this decision."
Zarah let out a frustrated sigh.
She’d had enough of going in circles.
Rather than continue arguing, she stepped closer to the edge of the wall and looked down at the kneeling goblin below.
"Bring the rest of your people forward."
Relief washed over Rasak’s face.
He quickly climbed to his feet, turned around, and hurried back toward the waiting survivors to call them over.