Chapter 47: Do Not Touch My Master!
Byung was awakened by the noise of several goblins causing a ruckus outside. The first thing that came to his mind was how he had been received the moment he first arrived— with fear, suspicion, and an undercurrent of hostility. That memory lingered as he rose, reminding him of just how different these goblins were compared to the ones he grew up hearing about.
They were brutal, even to their own kind. The farmers, who bent their backs to cultivate food for the rest, received no respect. The quality of the food they grew was pitiful—dull, flavorless, and lacking the nutrients needed to strengthen their people. It was a fact most goblins dismissed, but in the mines, the truth was clear. Their bodies struggled to keep up with the endless labor because they were never properly nourished. Some believed things could have been different if only the farmers had been respected and given better conditions.
Byung thought about all this as the yelling grew louder. He stepped outside, his brows knitting. "What’s going on?" he asked, his voice cutting into the tension.
He quickly noticed the scene. Several goblins surrounded a group of farmers. One of them lay on the ground, bleeding, while the others watched helplessly. The hostility from the enforcers toward the farmers was unmistakable.
"Power hungry dogs..." Byung muttered under his breath, but Maui’s sharp ears caught it. She glanced at him, surprised. She hadn’t expected him to speak in such a cold, cutting tone.
"You! Follow us!" one of the supervisors barked at Byung.
Byung’s eyes flicked to the farmer on the ground. The goblin was trembling, his arms raised defensively, expecting another blow. But instead of striking him, Byung crouched down and helped him to his feet.
"You okay?" Byung asked softly, the concern in his voice genuine.
The farmer’s eyes widened. No one had spoken to him like that in a long time.
"Hey, you!" the supervisor snapped, his tone forceful, but Byung didn’t flinch. In terms of standing, Byung already carried himself higher than these enforcers.
Inside, his thoughts shifted. Only he knew of his real plan—Drekk needed to disappear, and if that happened, Byung stood to benefit. Defeating Drekk directly was impossible, but Murkfang could be manipulated. Still, even Murkfang had his own tricks and his own agenda.
The supervisor grew impatient. He marched forward and clamped a hand down on Byung’s shoulder. "Hey! I’m talking to you!" he snarled.
Byung’s head tilted slightly, his eyes narrowing. For the first time, a trace of aggression slipped into his voice. "Take your hands off me..." His words were cold, sharp enough to freeze the air. Every goblin nearby stilled, watching closely to see how this would play out.
The supervisor couldn’t back down, not in front of everyone. He had to enforce discipline. Without hesitation, he tightened his grip and swung a fist at Byung.
But the punch never landed. Instead, it crashed into something solid—muscle far denser than anything the supervisor had expected. Byung hadn’t moved, hadn’t needed to.
"He said let go."
The voice came from Maui. She had stepped in between them, her body acting as a shield. Her sharp gaze locked onto the supervisor, her tone leaving no room for doubt. This was not a plea. It was a threat.
Byung himself was stunned. He hadn’t expected her to intervene, let alone for his sake.
The supervisor staggered back, clutching his fractured hand with a pained groan. The two goblins flanking him didn’t react. Their eyes were locked on Maui, mesmerized not only by her strength but by the distracting sight of her underboob revealed as she moved.
The farmers, however, saw something entirely different. For the first time, someone—an outsider no less—had stood up for them against their so-called leaders. Their faces lit with quiet satisfaction. This moment would not be forgotten.
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Meanwhile, elsewhere, humans had just concluded their dealings with the orcs. They were now traveling toward the goblins’ camp, bringing with them a strange prize: a massive whale strapped to their carriage. The orcs had found the display amusing, though none were permitted to touch the creature. That rule didn’t apply the other way around. The whale—or rather, the woman tied to it—had touched them in ways that left the camp buzzing.
Beauty standards in these lands were different. Among the orcs, the bigger one was, the more appealing they became. But humans, with their exotic features and aura of superiority, were considered the pinnacle of desirability. Many orcs openly salivated at the mere thought of laying with one.
The human men, in particular, had enjoyed themselves. The way the orcs treated them, they knew no woman of their own race would ever give them the same indulgence. By the time the humans departed, they carried smiles and fond memories, already anticipating their return.
Their horses, well-fed and finely trained, carried them swiftly. These weren’t ordinary beasts but athletic creatures conditioned to peak physicality. The humans looked rested, energized, and optimistic. This was no accident—it was Kragg’s design.
The orc leader had his reasons. He wanted to lay the groundwork for a stronger relationship with the humans, even though the bond between humans and goblins remained fragile. Kragg feared what the goblins might become if left unchecked. By cooperating with humans, even temporarily, he could at least ensure balance—or so he hoped.
For nearly two hours, the humans journeyed before arriving at the goblin camp. At first sight, the difference was striking. The camp had hardened. Security was tighter, the air heavier, like a fortress bracing for a siege.
Carriages were stationed everywhere: some meant for transporting women, others prepared to haul ores freshly mined by the goblins. Their paths split at certain points to cover more ground, ensuring maximum efficiency.
One path led to a mine rich in denser minerals, a place of greater value. It was there the humans were headed.
And unknowingly, this brought them closer to Byung. This could very well be his first encounter with the humans of this world.
Would they resemble the ones he knew from his own? Or were they only similar in appearance, different in nature altogether?