A commotion outside pulled him from his thoughts as he noticed the murmur. Shouts echoed through the air—goblin voices raised in excitement and awe, mixed with the deeper rumble of more goblins.

He stood, his new height making the low ceiling feel even closer but, and moved to the door. Thankfully, he had constructed the house to accommodate Maui. Byung opened the door soon after and peered out. The outside was alive with movement: goblins clustering around a group of massive figures entering from the entrance. The Stonehide orcs. She must have returned—the nameless Chieftess. His pulse quickened. He knew he had to meet her. She had saved him, but why? What did she want? It had to be more than a fight. But one thing was clear—she had done something he could never repay her for, she saved his people.

He stepped out into the bright sun, the light hitting his face like a warm wave after the dim tunnels. The air was fresh, carrying the scent of pine from the surrounding hills and the faint smoke from forges being used to make weapons.

The temperate was hotter than usual but this was needed, they needed to get back to work, there was no telling when the orcs would come to finish what they started,

The mine entrance bustled with activity: goblins repairing barricades, sharpening spears, children darting between legs with buckets of water. It was a mixed feeling—relief that the mine still stood, anxiety about the war's toll. He glimpsed Naruz and Maui talking near a supply cart, their massive orc frames towering over a cluster of goblins. Naruz's face was stern, her armor dented from recent fights, while Maui's expression softened as she glanced at something in Naz's arms. Byung wondered how the kid was doing—the miracle baby, born without claiming the mother's life. He was glad it had happened; a beacon of hope in the darkness. But if word got out that his blood was responsible, the mutated system essence that had healed Naz during the rite, he would become the most wanted goblin in the world. Hunted by orcs for his power, by humans for his secrets. He pushed the thought away—it was a concern for another day. Survival first.

Byung brushed off the stares as he walked. Goblins paused in their work, eyes wide with reverence and a touch of fear. His new appearance—taller, broader, with sharper features that blended goblin ferocity with human refinement—made him look like a king from a world that didn't exist. Awe rippled through them, but he felt the undercurrent of unease. He didn't blame them; he barely recognized himself in the reflective puddle he passed, his deeper golden eyes holding a cold glint that hadn't been there before.

He headed toward the water access—a natural spring bubbling into a small pool near the mine's edge, fed by underground streams. The sound of trickling water grew louder, a soothing contrast to the camp's bustle. He needed a shower, to wash away the grime of his recovery, the blood from fights he barely remembered. The cool spray would clear his head, help him plan the next move against the orcs.

But as he rounded a cluster of boulders screening the pool, he froze. There she was—the Chieftess. She was huge, seven and a half feet of scarred muscle and presence that made his heart thump but not in fear.

Her white hair cascaded like a waterfall, her red eyes fixed on the water as she knelt to fill a waterskin. Her black iron armor gleamed dully, etched with runes tossed to the ground which meant Byung was seeing her without it, and her broadsword lay beside her, the blade longer than Byung.

He hadn't gotten the memo about restricted areas; no one had told him the Stonehides had claimed this spot for their temporary base.

The Chieftess turned her head slowly, her gaze locking on him like a predator spotting prey. Byung gulped, his throat dry. Up close, she was even more intimidating—tusks painted bone-white, face a map where emotions came to die, this spoke of battles won through sheer will. He knew instantly who she was: the nameless, voiceless orc that had saved them, the one who had driven off Kraghul's forces and saved the mine. But her silence now felt like a threat, her eyes eyes piercing through him as if weighing his soul.

Byung realized she had a loose brown muddy shirt that barely covered her breasts alongside another piece of cloth that stopped at her upper thigh exposing her torso.

Before tension could escalate, Naz appeared from the side path, her steps quick despite the bundle in her arms.

"Byung!" she called, pulling him by the shoulder with her free hand. Her voice was a mix of relief and urgency.

"Come on—this area's off-limits to us. That's the Chieftess. She's... not one for surprises," Naz warned him.

Byung let himself be led away, his heart pounding. That was close. He glanced back once, seeing the Chieftess still watching, her expression unreadable. A chill ran down his spine.

Naz walked with him toward the camp, her baby cradled close. Byung noticed she held the infant at all times, her motherly instinct a constant shield. The child cooed softly, tiny fists waving, and Byung's eyes widened at another detail: the baby didn't look like the average goblin. No scrawny limbs or pointed ears dominating the face. Instead, it had a stronger build, green skin with faint orcish ridges on the brow, budding tusks already peeking through gums. It looked more like an orc pup than a goblin runt—robust, with a cry that echoed deeper than expected.

Byung knew there was no chance she had slept with an orc but this would mean the goblins' dominant genes had lost its potency, the baby had assimilated the mother's DNA.

Was it a side effect of her living or was the baby adapting to the race with a higher chance at survival what made the birth possible?

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