Three days after the brutal fighting, the morning mist in the Forest of Gloom had yet to fully dissipate, but the Blackrock Clan camp had already returned to its usual liveliness.
Inside the wooden palisade, green figures were everywhere—goblins carried planks and shuttled across the construction site, their short legs moving incredibly fast, humming off-key work songs; hobgoblin Boys held stone spears and trained in the open space, their battle cries shaking the sky; the orcs, meanwhile, gathered around the bonfire, using axes to chop the wood salvaged from the human camp, with Mars reflecting an excited glow on their green skin.
No one could tell that this place had just experienced a bloody battle three days ago.
Especially those endlessly energetic little goblin, who had long thrown the pain of war to the back of their minds—for them, war brought not fear, but endless joy: being able to fight alongside the boss, grabbing human food , and watching their orc brothers beat the humans senseless. This was much more fun than digging mud in the mushroom field.
The newly joined orc Boyz were even more pleasantly surprised.
They had originally thought that all greenskin tribes were dirty and chaotic, and it would be good enough just to have some mushroom soup. But upon arriving at the Blackrock Clan, they discovered that the environment here was ridiculously good: the mushrooms in the mushroom field grew large and plump, and they could eat fresh roasted meat every day; inside the palisade, there were over ninety goats and more than twenty chickens, and occasionally they even got eggs; what surprised them the most was that the tribe actually had dedicated latrines and hot pools, so they no longer had to defecate anywhere and smell awful all the time like before.
However, the two rules, "using the latrine on time" and "Bathing regularly," were difficult for the orc Boyz to follow.
They had been accustomed to relieving themselves anywhere their entire lives; what did they know about "Hygiene"? At first, some orcs still secretly defecated next to the wooden houses, but Kurzadh caught them red-handed and beat them until their faces were black and blue.
Furthermore, the hobgoblins were "fanning the flames" nearby, holding up the statue of Gork and Mork and saying, "Boss Kurzadh is Gork and Mork's God's herald. Listening to the boss is listening to Gork and Mork, or else Gork and Mork will despise you." Although the orc Boyz were skeptical, they dared not violate the rules anymore. Every day, they obediently went to the latrine and bathed in the hot pool weekly.
Even more fortunately, this fiercely unequal battle did not cause much damage to the camp.
The wooden palisade was only damaged in a few places by the cavalry and was quickly repaired by the hobgoblin Sappers; the mushroom field, lumberyard, and quarry were all intact. Moreover, thanks to the supplies left behind by the humans, the tribe's reserves were significantly enriched.
The real change occurred in the surviving greenskins —after experiencing the bloody fighting, the hobgoblin Boys' eyes held a touch of killing intent, no longer as timid as before; the orc Boyz had also clearly grown taller, their muscles firmer, and their movements now carried a ruthlessness honed on the battlefield.
This morning, as usual, the greenskins who received Kurzadh's order gathered in the central square.
In front of the large statue of Gork and Mork in the center of the square, hobgoblins and orcs crowded together, chirping and arguing endlessly—some hobgoblins boasted about how many human archers they had shot down that day, some orcs bragged about how many soldiers they had chopped down, and even the goblins gathered nearby, using their small claws to gesture how many "Stones they had helped the boss move." The scene was as lively as a festival.
Suddenly, a commotion erupted at the entrance to the square. The greenskins turned their heads and saw Kurzadh emerge from the grass hut—the wounds on his body had healed, though a few shallow scars remained on his face. In his hand, he carried a brand-new long-handled machete, its blade gleaming with cold light.
This machete was loot from the previous attack on the human camp. When the slaver Squad fled in panic, they abandoned a large amount of supplies in the camp, and this sharp machete was one of them.
"Boss!" someone shouted.
An immediate burst of cheers and roars, each louder than the last, erupted over the camp.
The hobgoblins raised the stone spears in their hands, the orcs brandished axes, and even the goblins stood on their tiptoes, making "Gurgle gurgle" sounds, expressing their adoration and respect for their leader in the way unique to greenskins .
Kurzadh looked at the lively scene before him, and his heart rejoiced.
Especially upon hearing the greenskins' powerful roars, he knew that after three days of rest, the injuries on these Boyz were no longer serious—if that was the case, it was time to get back to work; the construction of the territory could not stop.
He walked to the center of the square and raised his hand to quiet them. The square instantly fell silent.
All the greenskins looked up, their dense cluster of small green heads gathered together, their eyes filled with adoration as they looked at him—in their minds, Kurzadh was like Gork and Mork, a god-like existence who could lead them to victory, ensure they had meat to eat, and battles to fight.
"Boyz!" Kurzadh shouted loudly, raising the long-handled machete with both hands, his voice echoing across the entire square. "We won! We smashed those human slaver Squads! We smashed those who dared to oppose us! And we grabbed tons of loot left behind by the humans! We won!"
"WAAAAGH!!"
"WAAAAGH!!"
His response was hundreds of raised arms, stone spears, axes, bone clubs... a dazzling array of greenskin weapons waving in the air, the roars shaking the trees surrounding the square.
Bone Tree stood at the very front of the orcs, shouting more excitedly than anyone—don't assume all greenskins are simple-minded brutes. Bone Tree was quite clever. He had long realized that Kurzadh could not only fight but also lead the tribe to a good life. Following a boss like this meant there would definitely be bigger fights and more meat to eat in the future.
Just then, a pale green light screen suddenly popped up before Kurzadh's eyes, and the system prompt sounded in his mind:
[Congratulations, host, for completing the main quest "Bigger Territory" (Subdue orcs, Expand tribe Influence)]
[Quest Reward: 200 Waaagh! Value, one blueprint for the green mushroom tavern, Special Unit—Arachnari Giant Spider x 1]
[Additional Hint: The host's subordinate units have reached the upgrade standard. goblin x 79 can be upgraded to hobgoblin Laborers. Each upgrade requires 1 Waaagh! Value, totaling 79 points.]
Kurzadh's eyes instantly lit up—200 Waaagh! Value! This was the most energy value he had ever possessed! Plus the green mushroom tavern blueprint and the Arachnari Giant Spider; just hearing the names told him they were extraordinary.
However, what he noticed first was the goblin upgrade prompt.
Previously, the Waaagh! Value had been completely depleted for upgrading buildings and using shamanic magic. Now that he had just received 200 points, his first thought was to upgrade those diligent goblin into hobgoblin Laborers.
These goblin had followed him and worked for so long. Whether building latrines, fixing wooden houses, or transporting supplies on the battlefield, they had never slacked off and had long met the upgrade standard.
He had previously said, "I want all the Boyz to enjoy the favor of Gork and Mork," and that wasn't just empty boasting.
"System, upgrade all 79 goblin to hobgoblin laborers!" Kurzadh muttered internally.
[Confirm consuming 79 Waaagh! Value. goblin upgrade commencing... Upgrade complete!]
The light screen flashed, and the 79 goblin in the square were suddenly enveloped in a pale green light.
A few seconds later, the light faded, and the originally short and scrawny goblin underwent noticeable changes—their bodies were slightly taller, their arms were much thicker, the wooden shovels and axes in their hands seemed easier to wield, and their eyes held a new focus, no longer darting around like before.
"Waagh! Boss!" An upgraded hobgoblin laborer raised his wooden shovel and vigorously waved it at Kurzadh, his face full of excitement.
Kurzadh nodded in satisfaction.
He knew all too well the utility of hobgoblin Laborers—these guys were practically born builders. They worked quickly and efficiently. One hobgoblin Laborer could do the work of four or five ordinary hobgoblin slaves.
Especially for tasks that required a bit of skill, such as polishing stone slabs, setting up wooden frames, or mixing mortar, ordinary goblin were clumsy, but hobgoblin Laborers could perform them skillfully.
Now, with these 79 freshly upgraded hobgoblin Laborers, plus the existing workforce, the speed of territorial construction would definitely reach a new level—the green mushroom tavern could start construction quickly, the Arachnari Giant Spider could be placed in a suitable location, and he could even consider opening a new quarry to prepare for future building upgrades.
Kurzadh looked at the excited greenskins in the square and then at the system light screen before him—the remaining Waaagh! Value was 121 points, which was enough to cover upcoming minor needs.
He raised the long-handled machete in his hand and roared again: "Boyz! Next, we're building a tavern and fixing up storage! There's more work waiting for us to do! If you do well, I'll treat you to roasted whole goats!"
"WAAAAGH!!"
The greenskins' cheers erupted again, louder than before.
Sunlight filtered through the leaves and scattered onto the square, illuminating the excited green faces and lighting up the hopeful future of the Blackrock Clan.