Chapter 11: Blackmoon Village
Torug's POV,
[Ding!]
[Ayaseh is now even more interested in you...]
[Possible location for settlement has been detected, do you wish to accept?!]
[Y/N]
Before I could reach out to confirm the system prompt, Lovan's weak, grating voice broke through the silence.
"What... what will become of my kin?"
It was obvious he was deeply worried about the fate of his tribe from the very beginning. I wanted this walking money bag of mine to relax, so I looked down at him and spoke before I even realized the terrifying, toothy grin stretching across my tusks.
"Your kin is my kin now."
'Yes.' I thought the confirmation toward the flashing system prompt without a single second of hesitation.
A gargantuan, grandiose drop of water suddenly materialised from the broken clouds, falling from the heavens like a tumbling crystal comet. It slammed into the earth mere paces ahead of me, sinking intensely into the soil.
BOOM!
An invisible, kinetic shockwave violently erupted from the impact point, pushing everyone in the vicinity back by several steps. Brilliant ripples of emerald light pulsed outward, and a formless, dense energy expanded rapidly, blanketing a strict 1 square kilometer area.
In the next heartbeat, the entire geography shifted. The surrounding trees, grass, and wild mountain flowers instantly bloomed with vibrant, unnatural health, twisting and aligning themselves into perfect, geometric order. The earth quaked violently beneath my boots as the terrain physically remade itself, flattening the jagged rocks and sweeping away the debris to reveal perfectly smooth, leveled ground across the perimeter of the previous goblin encampment.
Structures of woven timber and vine began to manifest out of thin air, smoothly replacing the crude, muddy shelters the goblins had been using. A massive, high-roofed thatched cottage materialized at the center—unmistakably the [Village Hall] given its commanding size. To its left rose another thatched workshop with a brick chimney billowing faint smoke, likely the refined replacement for Lovan's alchemical lab. Next to it stood a third structure labeled by the system as the [Medicine Shop].
I couldn't hide my stupefied expression as I surveyed the newly minted, green-themed settlement—or rather, my new village.
The rest of the horde was in an absolute frenzy. The goblins shrieked incredulously, scurrying like ants from one thatched house to another, running their claws over the smooth, enchanted wood.
Suddenly, a blinding flash of systemic white light enveloped every single individual in the ravine.
[Ding! Host and all formal followers have leveled up by 1.]
The phantom heat seared my skin as my stats jumped, but my eyes locked onto the goblins. The ink-black silhouette of my crouching tiger sigil had manifested boldly across their tiny green hides.
The sheer influx of systemic energy was too much for their body. The vast majority of my orcs collapsed face-first into the dirt, their bodies rapidly secreting thick, organic cocoons. 'They're undergoing forced racial evolution,' I realized, a surge of gratification cutting through my shock. A few of the weaker goblins had also passed out on the floor, their frames twitching as the tiger tattoo pulsed against their skin.
Realizing the conscious goblins were on the verge of a total panic, I knew I had to assert absolute authority before I was bombarded with primitive questions. I turned my massive frame toward Lovan, pitching my rocky baritone into a solemn, commanding decree.
"The Gods have formally approved of our duel."
Since the massive droplet had literally fallen from the sky, the lie was seamless. The primitives immediately fell to their knees, trembling in religious awe.
[Ding!]
[Ayaseh is deeply amused by your deception...]
My entire frame froze for a tense second, my face turning incredibly dark beneath my soot-stained tusks.
'Tch... does this deity not have a cosmic war to manage? I cursed internally, my thoughts spinning into a frantic ramble. There is supposed to be a catastrophic war of the pantheon raging across the heavens right now! Why the hell is she still staring at a low-level orcland orc?! She best not designate me as her absolute champion... that will automatically seal my fate as the book's global antagonist. And the system won't even give me an option to refuse, ugh!'
[Ding!]
[Please name your village...]
'Black Moon Village', I commanded mentally, cutting off my own anxiety.
[Is this your final choice? Y / N]
'Yes.'
[Acknowledged... Please proceed to the village statistics interface.]
[Village Interface: Black Moon
Level: Basic (3 / 3,000 EXP)
Village Area: 1 Square Kilometer
Village Territory: 33 Square Kilometers
Residents: 78 / 1,000
Soldiers: 0 / 300
Guards: 0 / 50
Landmarks: Black Moon Lake, Cold Valley]
'Short, clean, and highly understandable,' I noted, reviewing the layout. But as my eyes traced the numbers, the experience point bar next to the word 'Basic' caught my attention, causing me to sink into deep tactical thought.
'How exactly does a settlement earn experience points?' I questioned the interface directly as I began walking with heavy, confident strides toward the grand Village Hall, gesturing for Lovan to follow me inside.
[System Notification: Settlements passively accumulate Experience Points over time by absorbing ambient mana from the surrounding territory, as well as upon the successful completion of official Village Quests.]
'I see.' I pulled the interface back up to verify the passive tick rate. True to the system's word, the value had already flickered up from zero to three. Looking at the rapid tick, I couldn't help but wonder if this progression speed was considered fast or slow for a basic hub.
[System Notification: The current accumulation velocity is rated as Above Average. Residual mana leaking from the unrefined Cold Valley mines is currently being repurposed by the core matrix to accelerate the village's growth.]
'So my geographical choice was flawless, I thought, a cold grin splitting my face. But if the system is explicitly classifying it as 'wasted' mana, I need to inspect those mines immediately. God only knows what kind of structural damage these primitive goblins have inflicted on the main vein.'
I stepped through the wide entrance of the whitish-green thatched Hall, Lovan trailing cautiously behind me. Before entering, I had ordered the conscious goblins to carefully drag the dense cocoons of the evolving orcs into the sheltered barracks. It had been a thoroughly comical sight—a dozen screeching, tiny goblins desperately trying to hoist a single, heavy-boned orc brawler—but their evolutionary bone density was nothing to scoff at.
Lovan walked into the hall with his yellow eyes darting frantically across the ceiling, his claws twitching as he tried to analyze the magical building materials. He couldn't hide his intense, scholarly curiosity, muttering a string of rapid, high-pitched ideas under his breath. "Why is the wood bound like this? C– Could this structure be woven from cured Orc hide? Or perhaps the pressed skin of an Elder troll...?"
I stopped dead in my tracks, turning my head to glare down at him. 'Give me a damn break. First I have to manage a scheming, ancient shaman, and now I'm saddled with an overly curious, unhinged researcher.'
Though I complained internally, I had yet to see a single drop of data to make me doubt Dabok's fundamental loyalty to the clan, and having read 'Salvation in Pride' from cover to cover, I already understood the core parameters of this goblin's eccentric character. He wasn't malicious; he was just someone you could call an academic sociopath.
"I won't restrict your freedom, Lovan," I boomed, my deep voice snapping the alchemist out of his trance. "I will allow you to conduct your study completely unhindered. If you require materials or have questions, bring them directly to me. If it is within my capability, I will provide."
The interior of the Great Hall was magnificent, built with immense clearance to allow a two-meter Great Orc to move about completely unhindered. A thick, luxurious rug stripped from a high-tier magical beast lines the floorboards, leading toward a stone hearth to the right that crackled with warm, ambient firelight. At the center of the hall rose two massive, emerald-green pillars that looked as though they had been sculpted from reinforced stalks of ancient giant bamboo.
At the far end of the room sat a grand, high-backed Bamboo Throne, intricately decorated with the snow-white fur of an oversized primordial wolf. Four smaller, identical wooden seats flanked each sides of the room.
I marched up the dais with natural, gang-boss strides and sat heavily upon the wolf fur. An incredibly plush, comfortable sensation instantly enveloped my frame—a level of luxury you would never expect from a primitive wooden chair.
Lovan approached the foot of the throne but remained standing, his posture rigid as he waited for explicit permission to take a seat.
Once again, I found myself thoroughly impressed by the goblin's innate, calculating intellect. He understood power dynamics perfectly.
"You may sit," I motioned with a heavy left hand toward the flanking chair.
'Snap!' The firewood popped in the hearth, casting long shadows across the green bamboo pillars.
"Now... tell me your story, Lovan Black Moon," I commanded, heavily emphasizing our new clan name.
Hearing the title, Lovan looked momentarily astonished by the sudden, permanent reassignment of his lineage. Subconsciously, his claw traced the fresh, ink-black tiger tattoo stretching across his shoulder. A complex mixture of feelings danced in his yellow eyes, but realizing his submission was bound by a sacred cosmic oath, he cleared his throat and began to speak.
He focused strictly on the events of the last two weeks, correctly deducing that a chief like me wouldn't give a damn about his childhood. As the goblin's grating voice detailed their frantic flight from the White Mountain Bloodhorn Clan, my mind began to synthesize the data, my brow furrowing into a deep frown.
He dropped a massive piece of unmapped information: Grole Spiders had completely infested the deepest levels of the cavern.
Because of the massive predatory insects, the goblins had been forced to restrict their mining operations exclusively to the shallow outskirts of the vein. Even then, they had already lost several miners to the dark tunnels.
This infestation was never mentioned anywhere in the novel. In the original text, by the time the Cilldean Royal Army launched the war for Cold Valley, the Ironbark mines were already fully operational, yielding a massive stream of high-quality stones. 'The protagonist must have arrived long after Lovan cleared the nest, or the human army wiped them out during the conquest,' I reasoned.
Grole Spiders were dangerous magical creatures that operated on a strict, aggressive matriarchal hierarchy. Before their species achieved a high-tier evolution into the Second Circle—where their localized mana allowed them to assume human disguises—their minor lives were biologically and telepathically tied directly to their Queen.
'The premier tactical option is a surgical assassination of the Grole Queen,' I calculated, my knuckles tightening against the armrest. 'But launching a blind assault is out of the question. I don't have a single shred of data regarding her level, her power rating, or her defense line.'
[Ding!]
[World Quest Triggered: 'For the Queen'!]
[Objective: Eradicate or deal with the Grole Spider Queen hidden within the depths of the Black Moon Mine.]
[Rewards: Scaling dynamically based on your tactical actions and efficiency...]