The words hit the camp like a sudden drop in temperature.
"Aegulus' Goblins."
For a heartbeat, no one moved.
The fire crackled, a log collapsing inward with a hiss of sparks, yet the sound felt distant. Even the desert wind seemed to hesitate, brushing past the tents in slow, uneasy gusts. Faces that had been relaxed only moments ago stiffened, and even Ulon's usual grin failed to return.
They all remembered.
Two years ago, Hallosbel and the Keepers had marched with confidence, banners high and voices louder than reason, certain they could erase the Goblin King from history.
They had returned broken—those who returned at all. Three Keepers survived, the rest—buried with mud and ashes. Veterans, both Keepers and soldiers, dead. Keeper's pride crushed so thoroughly that the whole empire still whispered about it like a bad omen.
Kiel swallowed, his fingers tightening around his bowl.
Ulon was the first to speak, his voice loud as always, yet lacking its usual careless edge. "So… boss," he said slowly, scratching the back of his head, "do you really think we can beat the Goblin King this time?"
Shane didn't answer right away. He stared into the fire, watching the flames bend and twist, as if weighing something invisible. Then he looked up. "The Keepers are serious now," he said. "They were humiliated last time. This time, they're bringing veterans. Real ones."
He paused, then added, "Even Duke Eason stepped down. He handed his title to his granddaughter just so he could join personally."
That earned a low whistle from Kiel. "That old monster ya'll talking about?" he muttered. "Isn't he supposed to be retired and grumpy?"
"Both," Ulon said. "And still terrifying."
Ulon crossed his arms and frowned. "Didn't they bring veterans last time too?" he pressed. "Arnold Ironfire was there, if I remember right. And they still lost two Keepers. Including him."
For the briefest moment, something flickered in Shane's eyes—too quick to name, too controlled to linger. Then it vanished, buried beneath his calm expression. "They underestimated their enemy," he said evenly. "They won't make that mistake again."
Ulon let out a breath. "Still no guarantee we win."
"There never is," Shane replied. "There's no certainty in any battle. Victory isn't our goal."
That made Maddy look up sharply. "Then what is?"
Shane met her gaze. "Survival."
The word settled heavily between them.
Shalotte shifted where he stood, nearly knocking over his cup before fumbling to steady it. "S-so we're not… expected to win?" he asked, voice thin but honest.
"We're expected to do our job," Shane said. "And come back alive."
Silence followed again, thicker this time. The fire popped, and somewhere beyond the light, something moved across the sand—too far away to see clearly.
Shane straightened. "I won't force anyone. This isn't a command." He looked around the group. "Who agrees to join?"
No one answered at first.
Kiel glanced around, his usual mischief gone, replaced by a nervous spark of excitement. His heart was pounding, and he hated that part of him liked that. Before he could overthink it, he raised his hand.
"I'm in," he said quickly. "I mean—yeah. I want to go."
Maddy stared at him. "You don't even know what you're agreeing to."
Kiel shrugged, trying to smile. "I know it's dangerous. But it always is, right?"
She sighed, rubbed her forehead, then raised her hand. "Fine. I'm in too. Someone has to keep you idiots alive."
Shalotte hesitated, fingers twisting together. "…I'll go," he said softly. "I'm scared, but… I don't want to run either."
Ulon laughed once, loud and sharp, breaking the tension. "Well, if the kid's going, I can't stay behind. Count me in."
Shane nodded at each of them, then turned his gaze to Klaus.
Klaus was sitting comfortably, legs stretched out, plate resting on his knee. He was still eating, unbothered, as if the conversation had nothing to do with him. He didn't raise his hand.
Shane didn't comment. He simply said, "Then we have a month to prepare."
Kiel frowned and leaned toward Klaus. "Uh… Mr. Klaus?" he asked. "Why didn't you raise your hand?"
Klaus looked up, chewing thoughtfully. He swallowed, then smiled faintly. "Because," he said casually, "I don't plan to participate."
The fire crackled louder, and several heads snapped toward him.
For a moment, no one even breathed.
Maddy was the first to recover. She rose halfway to her feet, hands planted on her knees, eyes sharp enough to cut. "Say that again," she demanded. "Slowly. Maybe I misheard you over the sound of my patience breaking."
Klaus calmly scooped another bite of stew and chewed, unhurried. "I. Don't. Plan. To. Participate."
Ulon let out a bark of laughter that died halfway through. "You're serious?"
He continued, "You, of all people, are sitting this one out?"
"Correct," Klaus said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I've had my fill of suicidal heroics for the week."
Maddy crossed her arms tighter. "You almost died today."
"Exactly," Klaus replied lightly. "I consider that a strong argument in my favor."
Kiel looked between them, confusion written all over his face. "But… but you're surprisingly strong," he said. "Like, really strong. If you don't go, doesn't that lower our chances?"
Klaus smiled at him. "Kid, if one man not showing up decides the outcome of a war, then that war was already lost."
Ulon barked out a laugh, loud and rough. "You serious?" He leaned forward, squinting. "After everything today? You crawled out of a wyrm and now you're scared of goblins?"
"Danger isn't something to be scared of," Klaus replied mildly. "It's something to avoid when it stops being profitable."
Kiel blinked. "So… it's because it's dangerous?"
"Yes," Klaus said simply. "Very."
"That's it?" Maddy snapped. "That's your reason? We all know it's dangerous!"
"Exactly," Klaus said, lifting his spoon. "Which is why I don't see the appeal."
Shalotte swallowed. "B-but… the Keepers are serious this time. Veterans, resources—"
"Veterans die too," Klaus interrupted. "Sometimes first."
The fire fell quiet, as if listening.
Shane had remained silent until now, arms crossed, gaze steady. "Klaus is correct," he said at last. "It is dangerous."
Ulon groaned. "Boss, don't start agreeing with him now."
Shane raised a hand, stopping him. "However," he continued, eyes shifting to Klaus, "that's not the whole reason."
Klaus's spoon paused mid-air.
Maddy turned sharply. "What do you mean?"
Shane sighed, rubbing his temple. "He's leaving out the more… how would I say it? complicated part."
Kiel's eyes lit up. "Oh? Like a secret condition?"
"Absurd conditions," Shane corrected flatly.
Klaus smiled faintly. "I prefer 'reasonable boundaries.'"
Ulon crossed his arms. "Alright, Slouch. Out with it."
Klaus leaned back, finally setting his bowl aside. The firelight danced across his face, shadows making his expression harder to read. "Very well," he said. "I told Duke Eason I'd consider joining under two conditions."
Maddy folded her arms. "Here we go."
"First," Klaus said, raising a finger, "no slaves."
The words settled heavily.
Shalotte stiffened. Kiel frowned. Even Ulon stopped smirking, his eyes full of questions that needed to be answered.
"No slaves?" Ulon repeated. "As in… at all?"
"As in," Klaus replied evenly, "no slaves shall participate in this war. Not as fighters. Not a meat shield. Not as expendable tools."
Maddy's brows knit together. "That's… unusual."
"It's impractical," Ulon added. "The soldiers rely on—"
"I know exactly what they rely on," Klaus cut in, voice still calm but colder now. "And I won't be part of it."
Shane nodded once. "That was his first demand."
Kiel hesitated. "Is that why the Keepers didn't answer yet?"
"Surprisingly, they agreed," Shane said. "Still, they weren't pleased."
Ulon whistled. "Bold of you."
Klaus shrugged. "I'm allergic to chains."
Ulon's eyes flickered but didn't say anything.
Maddy studied him, irritation slowly giving way to something more conflicted. "And the second condition?"
Klaus lifted a second finger. "I get my share separately."
The silence that followed was louder than before.
"Separately?" Kiel echoed.
"Yes," Klaus said. "Subjugators get their own share. Mine as well."
Ulon stared. "You're negotiating loot with the Keepers?"
"Compensation," Klaus corrected. "Up front and clear."
Shane exhaled slowly. "That," he said, "is the part I called absurd."
Klaus smiled. "And yet they didn't say no."
"They didn't," Shane admitted. "Because you made it very clear—those conditions are non-negotiable."
Maddy rubbed her face. "So it's not that you won't fight," she said slowly. "It's that you won't fight their way."
"Precisely," Klaus replied.
Ulon shook his head. "You're unbelievable."
"Still alive though," Klaus said cheerfully.
Kiel tilted his head. "But… if they agree?"
Klaus met Shane's gaze. "If they agree, I'll participate."
"And if they don't?" Shalotte asked quietly.
Klaus's smile faded just a little. "Then I won't."
The fire snapped again, sparks spiraling upward.
Shane straightened. "The Keepers haven't rejected the terms yet," he said. "They're… considering."
Ulon scoffed. "They must be desperate."
"They are," Shane said. "That's why this war worries me."
Maddy let out a slow breath. "Aegulus' Goblins," she murmured. "Nothing ever comes cheap with them."
Klaus picked up his bowl again, as if the tension hadn't thickened around them. "Which is why," he said lightly, "I charge extra."
No one laughed—but no one argued either.
They sat around the fire, each lost in their own thoughts, while the desert listened in silence and the shape of the coming war slowly took form.