"The goblin has more spine than sense," he said in surprisingly clear Common, apparently deciding Satou deserved to understand him directly. "Very well. I will take you to Chieftain Urgak. He will decide whether to accept your challenge or simply feed you to the wargs."
"I'll take my chances," Satou replied.
The captain gestured, and the orc warriors parted, creating a path through their ranks. "Follow. And know that if you try anything foolish, your companions die first."
"Understood," Satou said.
As they walked through the gates into the orc settlement, Satou's senses went into overdrive, cataloging everything. The layout of buildings, the positions of warriors, the locations of weapons racks and supply caches. Information that might be useful if things went wrong.
The settlement's interior was more organized than he'd expected. Buildings were arranged in a rough grid pattern, with the largest structure—clearly the chieftain's longhouse—dominating the center. Orcs stopped what they were doing to stare as the goblin delegation passed, their expressions ranging from curiosity to outright hostility.
And there, near a smaller building that looked like it might be a prison or storage shed, Satou spotted a familiar figure.
Kira.
She was bound to a post, her Hobgoblin form battered and bruised but alive. Her eyes widened when she saw them, confusion and hope warring on her face.
Satou gave her the slightest nod—a promise that he had a plan, that she wouldn't be abandoned.
Then they reached the longhouse.
The captain pushed open the heavy doors, revealing an interior lit by torches and a central fire pit. At the far end of the room, seated on a throne made from what looked like bones and furs, was the largest orc Satou had ever seen.
Chieftain Urgak.
He was a monster of an individual—easily eight feet tall, with shoulders broad enough to fit three goblins side by side. Scars crisscrossed every visible inch of his green-gray skin, telling stories of countless battles survived. His tusks were decorated with carved symbols, and his eyes... his eyes held the cold intelligence of a seasoned warrior who'd killed hundreds of enemies and didn't fear adding more to the count.
He was also missing his left arm from the elbow down, the stump wrapped in leather bindings. But somehow, that only made him more intimidating. He'd survived losing an arm and remained chieftain. That spoke to terrifying levels of strength and skill.
"Chieftain Urgak," the captain said, dropping to one knee. "This goblin has come to challenge you to single combat by right of trial."
Urgak's gaze fixed on Satou, and the weight of that stare was almost physical. This wasn't just looking—it was evaluation, assessment, the gaze of a predator sizing up potential prey.
For several heartbeats, nobody moved.
Then Urgak laughed—a deep, booming sound that shook the walls.
"A goblin," he said, his voice like grinding stones. His Common was heavily accented but clear. "A goblin challenges me. In all my years leading this tribe, I've faced humans, elves, even a dwarf once. But never a goblin." He leaned forward, his remaining hand gripping the arm of his throne. "Tell me, little green thing—what makes you think you're worthy of breathing the same air as me, much less fighting me?"
Satou stepped forward, maintaining eye contact. This was the moment everything hinged on—if he showed even a hint of fear or weakness, this ended before it began.
"I'm the one who leads the tribe that's been living three miles south of your territory," Satou said clearly. "The tribe that's been surviving in a forest where goblins usually die within days. The tribe that killed a pack of nine dire wolves without losing a single warrior."
He paused, letting that information sink in. "I'm the one who turned regular goblins into Hobgoblins with nothing but words and magic. And I'm the one who's going to defeat you in single combat to free my captured scout."
The longhouse had gone dead silent. Every orc present stared at him with varying expressions of shock.
"You claim to have created Hobgoblins through magic?" Urgak said slowly. "That's... impossible. Evolution doesn't work that way."
"And yet, here they stand." Satou gestured to Grimnir, Lyra, Jessica, and Kelvin. "All four of them were regular goblins a week ago. Now they're Hobgoblins. Because I made them so."
Urgak's eyes narrowed as he studied the four Hobgoblins more carefully. Satou could see the wheels turning in the chieftain's mind—the implications of a goblin who could artificially trigger evolution were staggering.
"If this is true," Urgak said, "then you're either blessed by gods or cursed by demons. Either way, you're dangerous."
He stood from his throne, and even with one arm, his presence dominated the room. "I accept your challenge, goblin. We fight at sunset, before the entire tribe. If you win, your scout goes free and your tribe can remain in my territory unmolested. If I win, your companions here become prisoners, and I take your head as a trophy."
"Agreed," Satou said without hesitation.
"Good." Urgak smiled, revealing teeth filed to points. "I haven't had a proper challenge in months. This should be entertaining, if nothing else."
He gestured to his warriors. "Take them to the holding area. Give them food and water—I want the goblin at full strength when I kill him. No point in a victory if people can claim he was weakened beforehand."
As the orcs escorted them out, Satou's mind was already racing through strategies. He had maybe six hours before sunset. Six hours to figure out how to kill something twice his size with three times his strength and decades more combat experience.
No pressure.
The orcs led them to a sectioned-off area near the arena—a circular space surrounded by wooden posts and rope that served as their temporary prison. It wasn't heavily guarded, probably because the orcs didn't seriously believe any goblin could escape from the middle of their settlement.
They were given water and chunks of roasted meat—surprisingly good quality, actually. Urgak apparently meant what he said about wanting a fair fight.