From Slave to King: My Rebate System Built Me a Kingdom With Beauties!-Chapter 230: Morning After.

Morning broke over the settlement with pale light that painted the sky in shades of orange and pink, revealing the aftermath of last night’s brutal challenge. The orcs were now serving under a new leader, though the transition felt strange and uncertain for many who had lived under Kragg’s stable rule for so long. Maui’s victory had been absolute, witnessed by everyone, impossible to dispute or challenge. But the reality of what came next was still settling in their minds like dust after a storm.

Shava had not only lost the power she had desperately sought but, more devastatingly, the trust of the other orcs who had once respected her as a capable warrior and potential leader. The loss was written clearly on her face as she moved through the settlement that morning, avoiding eye contact, keeping to the edges of groups rather than commanding their center as she once had.

They had all known she was being abused by Borg—the signs had been impossible to miss for anyone paying attention. But she had never opposed him directly, never stood up for herself despite possessing the strength and skill to do so. This was a direct show of weakness in their culture, even though many orcs had felt sympathy for her situation and respected her past accomplishments. Strength wasn’t just physical—it was the willingness to fight for yourself, to refuse subjugation, to die on your feet rather than live on your knees.

But the abuse had become painfully obvious over recent weeks. The belittling in public forums where Borg would dismiss her opinions or mock her suggestions, the way he spoke to her like property rather than a partner, the subtle and not-so-subtle demonstrations that he saw her as a tool to legitimize his rule rather than a person worthy of respect. The other orcs had watched it happen, had felt their own discomfort growing with each incident.

They were genuinely relieved that Maui had been able to defeat Borg the way she did—decisively, brutally, leaving no question about who was stronger. It had been cathartic to witness, a release of tension that had been building throughout the settlement like pressure in a sealed container. Justice, of a sort, had been served.

But it hadn’t been an easy fight despite how one-sided it appeared once Maui’s transformation took full effect. Her body felt the absolute brunt of it this morning, every muscle screaming in protest when she tried to move. She couldn’t shift a single muscle without waves of pain washing through her, the kind of deep ache that came from pushing a body far beyond its normal limits. It had been ages since she last moved with that level of intensity and violence, months since she’d engaged in real combat rather than practice or training exercises.

This meant her body simply wasn’t accustomed to the tremendous strain it had been put under. The transformation had granted her supernatural strength and resilience during the fight, but now that the moon had set and the bloodlust had faded, she was paying the price. Every breath hurt. Every heartbeat seemed to pulse through damaged tissue and strained ligaments. She lay in the quarters that had been hastily prepared for her, unable to rise from the bed without assistance.

Maui would clearly be out of commission for the next couple of days at minimum, possibly longer depending on how her recovery progressed. This vulnerable state would normally be incredibly dangerous for someone who’d just seized power through combat—rivals would see opportunity, ambitious warriors would consider challenging her while she was weak, old grudges might resurface.

But there was one thing the orcs could absolutely be respected for, one cultural trait that transcended individual ambition or political maneuvering. It was their deep respect for custom and tradition, for the rules that governed challenges and leadership transitions. The fight had been witnessed, the victory legitimate, the outcome accepted by all present including Grishka herself.

This meant there would be no one attempting to kill Maui in this weakened state. Such an act would be considered dishonorable beyond redemption, a violation of everything their warrior culture stood for. They had all seen with their own eyes that she was worthy to follow, that she possessed strength that exceeded even their inflated chieftain despite months away from active combat.

The orcs had certainly heard about her affiliation with the goblins, fighting alongside them, apparently serving the evolved goblin king in some capacity. But perhaps she had simply returned home now? Perhaps her time with the goblins had been temporary, a strange detour that was now over? They could convince themselves of this narrative if it made things easier to accept.

Grishka’s presence further solidified their respect and willingness to follow Maui’s leadership. The legendary Stonehide Chieftess had come personally to witness the challenge, had prevented any interference, had made her approval clear through her satisfied reactions to the fight’s progression. If Maui could ally with this orc—widely considered the worst of the worst, the most dangerous single combatant in all the orc territories—then there would be no one who could realistically stop them from accomplishing whatever goals they set.

And what naturally came to the minds of many warriors as they discussed the future in small groups throughout the settlement was conquest. Not just minor territorial expansion or defensive consolidation, but real conquest that would reshape the regional power balance. Specifically, the conquest of nearby human settlements that had grown prosperous through trade while the orcs struggled with internal politics and resource scarcity.

With Maui’s tactical thinking combined with Grishka’s overwhelming combat power and their own considerable numbers, the humans wouldn’t stand a chance. It was an intoxicating possibility that warriors discussed with growing excitement and enthusiasm.

But by some genuine miracle that surprised even Grishka, Borg had survived the encounter. His injuries were catastrophic—a single lung had been completely destroyed, the organ reduced to damaged tissue that could no longer function. But remarkably, he still had one more functioning lung that continued drawing breath, keeping his broken body alive through sheer biological persistence.

Grishka was actually a surprisingly skilled healer despite her reputation being built entirely on her capacity for violence. She had demonstrated this ability with Byung during his recovery from near-fatal injuries, though admittedly his evolution system had been what truly pushed him toward full recovery rather than her medical interventions alone. Still, she knew how to set bones, how to clean wounds properly, how to manage internal injuries well enough to give a body a fighting chance.

Maui had beaten Borg to an absolute pulp during their fight, had shattered his ribs and collapsed his chest cavity with that devastating punch. But somehow his other lung had survived relatively intact even though this injury would severely limit his ability to fight at full capacity if he ever recovered enough to attempt combat again. He would never be the warrior he’d been before, would always be operating at a fraction of his previous capabilities.

And critically, he was currently in a deep coma. He hadn’t woken up since collapsing at the end of the challenge, hadn’t shown any signs of consciousness returning despite Grishka’s medical care. His body breathed automatically, his heart continued beating, but his mind remained locked away in darkness. There was genuinely only a slim chance he would come out of this alive, his remaining lung could fail, his damaged organs could give out at any moment.

But Maui desperately needed him to survive long enough to confess that he had killed Kragg. She needed the other orcs to hear directly from his own mouth that no goblin was responsible for this irredeemable act that had destabilized their entire political structure. It had been one of their own—ambitious, treacherous, willing to murder his chieftain for power.

Without that confession, the narrative would remain muddied, the blame would continue to fall on the goblins, and any peace between their peoples would be impossible to maintain. Borg’s survival wasn’t about mercy or justice for him personally. It was about the truth, and the future it could create if spoken aloud for all to witness.