Chapter 33: The Boiling Point.
Borg lay in his bed, the injuries on his body festering. This alone showed they were far from self-inflicted, which meant that even though he had caught Grashnak off guard, the warrior still managed to land a blow that could easily have been fatal.
"Damn you, Grashnak!" Borg cursed under his breath as the pain coursing through him began to worsen. It felt like Grashnak’s soul was punishing him from beyond the grave but Borg had no regrets regarding his actions.
He could barely push through it, but he had already set the seed that would bloom.
There was no way the goblins could survive if it was Maui Kragg had sent.
He had no idea why she accepted this task either, but something told him it must have been her encounter with Byung. That very encounter was also the reason why she was best suited.
The truth was, after Borg said those words and stabbed Grashnak, the orc didn’t fall immediately.
-
"You’re right, I play too much." These were the last words that escaped his lips, but Grashnak was an orc who had once fought side by side with Kragg.
Borg had underestimated him. Despite the blow being fatal, Grashnak swung his blade in an attempt to take off Borg’s head.
This forced Borg to let go of the rusted blade, but Grashnak wasn’t foolish enough to remove it from his stomach. He knew doing so would only cause him to bleed out faster.
If he was going to die, he would make sure Borg went with him.
"Y-You bastard, how can you still move?" Borg demanded, but Grashnak wasn’t listening.
He was moving purely on instinct now, with no strength to waste on anything that wouldn’t help him kill Borg.
He charged, and Borg was shocked to see him still moving so fast despite the mortal wound. Forced into action, Borg drew his sword to block.
The reverberation upon the collision shook him to the core—Grashnak was not holding back.
The orc’s sword came down like a hammer, and Borg barely managed to block. He couldn’t hold the position for long, though, because the injured warrior was still overpowering him.
He had to act. Borg kicked the blade already plunged into Grashnak’s stomach, driving it even deeper and forcing the orc’s strength to falter for a heartbeat.
That moment was enough. Borg pushed the sword above him aside and slashed Grashnak’s guts open.
Yet Borg soon realized Grashnak had managed to wound him as well.
"W-What?" Borg gasped, stunned. Grashnak seized the opportunity and struck again.
Borg dodged at the very last second, barely surviving. Still, Grashnak’s blade tore a deep gash across his abdomen.
The cut was so deep Borg had to hold his stomach with his hand or risk his intestines spilling out.
That single step back was the only reason he survived the attack. Grashnak collapsed soon after.
Borg knew he would never have defeated him in a direct fight. That was why he relied on a sneak attack.
But it didn’t change the fact that Grashnak had gone along with Borg’s plan. And Borg would never leave a loose end alive.
What if Grashnak suddenly found the strength to speak? Borg couldn’t allow that.
Still, it showed just how strong the older orcs were. There was no telling how strong Kragg himself truly was.
-
A female orc walked into the room, and Borg’s whole demeanor softened as he looked up at her from his bed-ridden state.
"You fool! What did you think you were doing, going there all alone!?" The female orc began scolding him immediately.
The relationship between them was clear from this alone—she was his lover.
Before he could respond, she smacked him across the head, though Borg didn’t react.
"I’m injured, you know!?" Borg snapped back, but the woman wasn’t backing down.
"You should have thought about that before coming back hurt. Why didn’t you wait for me to return!?" she barked.
She had gone with Kragg and was one of his immediate subordinates, yet she also possessed superior combat prowess compared to Borg.
"I’m sorry, Shava," Borg muttered. But when she inspected the wound, she raised a brow.
"Goblins did this?" Shava asked, tracing her fingers along the cut.
"They did," Borg answered without hesitation. But Shava instantly spotted something wrong.
"I see," she said calmly, though she knew he was lying. There was no way a goblin could even wield a weapon capable of inflicting such damage.
Still, she chose not to press him further. Shava was the daughter of the chieftain of one of the ten clans—the Iron Tusk Clan.
The clan was famed for its blacksmiths and warlords, known for forging brutal weapons and heavy armor. That heritage was why she could recognize such details so quickly.
"Grashnak is dead... and it’s my fault. If only I had found him sooner," Borg whispered, his eyes filling with tears.
Shava, though not blessed with the most striking figure, still pulled him close to comfort him.
Borg was a promising young orc, younger than Shava, but his potential was undeniable.
He had proven himself countless times; otherwise, the Iron Tusk’s chief would never have entrusted his daughter to him.
"It isn’t your fault. I’m sure there’s an explanation," Shava reassured him. Yet even she felt there was something strange about all of this.
The fact that Kragg had sent Maui and her companions into goblin territory raised eyebrows. He had never explained his reasons for doing so.
As far as the other orcs knew, they had been sent to maintain peace. But this only stirred backlash against Kragg.
They had just lost one of their own, and now he was sending three more to appease goblin bloodlust?
The decision split opinions. If Grashnak had truly been killed by goblins, then the only acceptable response was blood.
Now, Borg had others who wanted the same thing he did. The goblins’ existence was on the verge of coming to an end.