Chapter 10 – Birth of the First Generation
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Days passed since the bloody clash with the wild goblins. Though Altair's pack remained battered and hungry, the air within the cave had changed. Fear no longer consumed them completely; something faint, fragile, but undeniable stirred—hope.
Altair walked among them, eyes scanning their wounds, their ragged bodies. Lila worked quietly, pressing leaves against cuts. Mira carried small shells of water from puddles, offering it to the injured.
Then, from deeper within the cave, he heard it—small, frail cries. The sound of new life.
Altair's heart jolted. He knew what it meant.
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In a corner of the cave, Lila lay on her side, sweat slicking her brow, her breath ragged. Mira knelt beside her, clutching her hand, whispering words of comfort. Their frail bodies trembled, but their resolve held.
Altair moved closer, watching with the eyes of a warrior yet feeling something wholly unfamiliar. "In my old life… I only knew death. Now… I am watching life claw its way into this wretched world."
Lila screamed. A cry soon followed, piercing, fragile—the cry of a goblin newborn. A small body, green-skinned, wriggling with instinct to live.
"Kael…" Lila whispered, smiling weakly.
Another cry followed. "Kyren…"
And then two more, born one after another, Mira's hands trembling as she caught them, tears sliding down her cheeks.
"Davj… Varz…"
Four tiny goblins, their skin wrinkled, their cries weak but alive. In the filth of the cave, in the shadow of monsters, they had come into the world.
Altair stared at them. To the rest, they were nothing but frail infants, destined for death in a cruel forest. But to him—they were symbols.
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Altair approached, crouching down. One of the infants groped blindly, its tiny hand brushing against his claw. Instinctively, its fingers curled, gripping his.
Altair froze. Something alien rushed through him—something warm.
"A family? I… have a family? Not comrades who betrayed me. Not allies bound by convenience. But something born of me, of us… something truly mine?"
His heart, hardened by betrayal and vengeance, softened for a moment. But instead of weakening his resolve, it made it burn hotter.
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Altair rose to his feet, turning toward the pack that gathered around the newborns. Their yellow eyes widened with awe.
"Listen," Altair's voice rang sharp in the cave. "Today, we did not just survive. Today, we built a future."
He pointed toward the infants. "They are the first generation. From them, more blood will be born. From them, our strength will grow. Look well—this is the beginning of a goblin kingdom!"
A ragged chorus of howls erupted. Their voices were cracked, weak, but filled with conviction. For the first time, the goblins howled not in fear, but in triumph at the promise of tomorrow.
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That night, the cave glowed faintly with firelight. Lila and Mira cradled the sleeping infants, their faces softened by exhaustion and pride.
Altair sat apart, his eyes fixed on the flames. His mind replayed the betrayals, the laughter of Alice and the others… and then shifted to the cries of Kael, Kyren, Davj, and Varz.
"I once lost everything to treachery. But now… I have something to protect. Something to build."
His emerald eyes blazed. "For them, for my vow, for my revenge—I will rise. No matter this body, no matter this curse, I will carve the world anew."
The fire crackled, casting his shadow long across the cavern wall. To the others, he was a goblin. But to himself, he was already more—king, builder, avenger.
And from that night onward, the legend of Altair's family, his first generation, began.
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