From Slave to King: My Rebate System Built Me a Kingdom With Beauties!-Chapter 170: One Month Later.
A month had passed since the duel with the Stonehide Chieftess, and the transformation was nothing short of miraculous. The goblin camp had turned into a proper town, the chaotic sprawl of tents and makeshift shelters replaced by unique and sophisticated buildings that rose from the earth like a testament to what goblins could achieve when given purpose and direction.
The mine entrance, once a gaping maw in the mountainside surrounded by mud and debris, now served as the town’s beating heart, with structures radiating outward in organized clusters that spoke of careful planning rather than desperate survival.
The buildings themselves were marvels of goblin ingenuity combined with orc strength—low to the ground to accommodate goblin stature, but sturdy, built from quarried stone mortared with clay mixed with crushed volcanic rock that hardened like concrete. Roofs were thatched with mountain grass woven so tightly that rain ran off in sheets without penetrating, and chimneys made from stacked stone released steady streams of smoke from forges and cooking fires within. Each structure had a distinct purpose, marked by crude but effective signs carved into wooden planks and hung above doorways: the forge, the granary, the armory, the healer’s quarters, the community hall where disputes were settled and announcements made.
Byung had taught a few goblins about medicine so they could at least handle the less severe illnesses but one thing he corrected was their inability to speak properly.
The town had structure now, a framework that gave every goblin a place and a purpose beyond simply surviving to the next dawn. There were multiple jobs to choose from, professions that allowed specialization rather than forcing everyone to be a jack-of-all-trades. Forging drew those with strong arms and patient temperaments, goblins who could spend hours at the anvil hammering glowing metal into blades, armor plates, tools, and intricate mechanical components for Byung’s inventions. The forges ran day and night, the constant ring of hammer on anvil a rhythmic heartbeat that echoed through the valley, sparks flying like angry fireflies, the air thick with the acrid scent of heated metal and coal smoke.
Mining remained the backbone of the economy, teams descending into the depths with picks and torches, extracting iron ore, and the occasional vein of precious metals that fetched high prices from traders. The work was backbreaking, dangerous, but it paid well in food rations and the respect of peers. Hunting became a coveted profession for the more adventurous—goblins who ranged into the surrounding forests and hills with bows and traps, bringing back deer, wild boar, mountain goats, and the occasional predator whose pelt could be traded or used for clothing. It was possible due to the Chieftess alliance with the goblins, the orcs under Borg dared not take a step outside of their stronghold. And scouting, perhaps the most critical role, drew the sneakiest and most perceptive goblins who kept watch on the borders, tracked orc movements, monitored the paths to human territories, and reported anything unusual to Murkfang or Byung directly.
The farm that was once separated by treacherous terrain and a long, dangerous trek was now accessible to all. Goblin laborers had carved a road—a proper road, not a game trail—winding down from the mine through switchbacks that spanned ravines, wide enough for carts to pass loaded with produce.
The earth had been packed and leveled, stones cleared and used to reinforce the edges, and drainage ditches dug to prevent washouts during heavy rains. A dedicated unit of goblins was responsible for bringing food down from the farm, a supply chain that ran like clockwork: they pulled it with horses that had now doubled in quantity, laden with sacks of grain, root vegetables, baskets of eggs from the chickens Naz had introduced, and smoked meats preserved in the farm’s new smokehouse.
The farm itself had expanded under Naz’s careful management. Fields stretched in neat rows across the flat valley floor, crops planted in rotation to keep the soil fertile—wheat, barley, turnips, carrots, and hardy mountain beans that thrived in the cooler climate. A modest orchard of fruit trees had been started, saplings planted in careful rows, their slender trunks staked against the wind. Naz had even constructed a pen for livestock—goats for milk and meat, chickens for eggs, and a pair of pigs that rooted happily in the mud, growing fat on kitchen scraps hauled up from the town.
Naz herself was a happy mother, her eyes softening whenever she looked at her child, the miracle baby that had survived when all others before had perished in the womb. The baby had grown significantly in a month, no longer the fragile newborn but a toddler with surprising mobility and awareness. It had traits of a goblin—green skin, pointed ears, the sharp little teeth just beginning to emerge—but it was much smarter than the average goblin child of the same age, showing signs of advanced intellect more commonly seen in orc youth. It understood commands, mimicked speech with eerie accuracy, and already demonstrated problem-solving skills that left even Maui impressed. Yet it remained the size of a goblin, compact and quick, able to squeeze through spaces an orc child never could.
Naz had relocated to the farm permanently to help out directly, trading the cramped mine quarters for a small cottage built near the fields, its walls lined with shelves holding jars of preserved food, bundles of dried herbs, and tools for tending crops. She worked the earth with calloused hands, her massive orc frame bending over rows of seedlings, singing old songs in her native tongue that made the plants seem to grow faster, leaves unfurling toward the sun. The farm became her domain, a place of life and growth that contrasted sharply with the blood and battle she had known for so long.
Gribnox followed suit, leaving the fighting life behind without regret. The terror of Kraghul’s assault, the near-death experience, had shaken something loose in him—a realization that he was not a warrior at heart, that his hands were meant to build rather than destroy. He chose farming because it was something he could do and do well, his strength perfect for hauling loads, tilling stubborn soil, and repairing fences that goats constantly tested. He worked alongside Naz, their partnership growing into a quiet companionship built on shared labor and the simple satisfaction of watching things grow. In the evenings, they sat outside the cottage, watching their child toddle around the yard chasing chickens, and Gribnox felt a peace he had never known in the mine’s dark depths.
Murkfang remained in the mines, his loyalty to Byung unwavering. He had become the right-hand man, the enforcer and organizer who kept the town running when Byung was deep in his workshop or absent on mysterious errands. Murkfang coordinated the mining teams, settled disputes with firm but fair judgments, and ensured the forges never ran out of ore. His bandages from Kraghul’s beating had long since come off, revealing new scars that crisscrossed his face and torso, badges of survival that commanded respect. Goblins snapped to attention when he passed, and even Drekk deferred to him now, the older goblin recognizing that Murkfang’s authority came not from fear but from earned trust.
The town thrived, its population swelling as word spread and isolated goblin families trickled in from the wilderness, seeking safety and opportunity. At night, lanterns hung from posts illuminated the streets, and the sound of laughter and conversation filled the air—a sound that had been absent for far too long. The goblins had built something worth defending, something worth fighting for. And under Byung’s cold, calculating leadership, they were ready to face whatever came next.
Vrognut had been given to the humans but Byung didn’t want the bounty on his head, money was the least of his problems as his rebate had already amassed him a net worth of 3,700 gold.
He had entered an agreement with the humans to provide them with knowledge about this world including history and blueprints to inventions which was part of the reason he was able to advance his region at such a rapid pace.
