Chương 55: Chapter 41: Dravak - The System Moves in Mysterious Ways

Whenever exhaustion or an empty Mana pool forced Grub down from the scaffold, he always found other work waiting. This afternoon, it was the children and their wolves. The pups had lived. That had been Dravak's first surprise. The second was how quickly they had changed. Growth brought hunger with it. Eleven young direwolves placed a burden on stores already stretched thin by wounded Hunters and the steady approach of winter.

Their appetites seemed to grow with each passing day, and Dravak could already imagine what eleven full-grown beasts would demand once their bodies caught up with their oversized paws. He had raised the concern with Grub before the pups had been in the cavern for a full week.

"Affection won't empty my winter stores," Dravak had warned him.

"No wolf eats meat that should fill a goblin's bowl." Grub had agreed.

"They'll have to earn what they eat," Dravak continued.

"Guarding first. Hunting when they're old enough. Until then, they eat what the tribe would otherwise waste." He had kept to that. The pups received organs, gristle, cracked bones, blood, and whatever scraps remained once the tribe had taken every useful cut. Each child was responsible for gathering and carrying the food for the wolf placed in their care, and any pup that turned away from what it was given waited hungry until the next feeding. It didn't erase the cost. Nothing did.

But for now, the cost remained manageable. The pups were no longer blind bundles of fur hidden beneath hides and pressed against children for warmth. Their legs had lengthened, their bodies growing faster than their balance could follow, and the largest now stood nearly waist-high beside the children. Their paws remained too large for their bodies, promising far more growth to come.

Small teeth flashed white when they wrestled, sharp enough now to draw blood if play became too rough, and their movements carried an alertness that hadn't existed when Dravak first lifted them from their den. They were still pups. They stumbled over their own feet, chased dangling strips of hide, and sometimes forgot every lesson the instant another wolf invited them to play. But they watched. They watched the children they slept beside, the goblins who approached them, and every movement near the cave mouth.

Their ears turned toward unfamiliar sounds before most of the tribe noticed them. Grub showed the children how to move with the wolves rather than dragging them by force. He kept the commands short and distinct, rewarding obedience with scraps of meat or a hand beneath the jaw. When a pup misbehaved, he corrected it firmly enough to be understood without teaching it to fear the goblins beside it. He demonstrated first with Sable.

She remained the smallest of the litter, but she followed Grub wherever he went and watched him with an attention the larger pups rarely gave their children. At one command, she stopped. At another, she crossed behind him and settled beside his opposite leg. Then he let the children try. Some managed well enough. Others tangled themselves with their pups or shouted three commands at once until Grub made them stop, breathe, and begin again.

The girl he'd chosen to receive the first pup adapted faster than the others. Her black wolf with the oversized gray paws kept trying to surge ahead, but she soon stopped pulling uselessly against his weight. Instead, she stepped across his path and changed direction whenever he stopped paying attention, forcing him to look to her again. By the third attempt, he was watching her feet and adjusting his pace to match.

They crossed the training space together without breaking rhythm while most of the others were still trying to decide which one of them was supposed to be following. Grub moved among them, correcting grips and tangled leads. He taught the children to remain still while a wolf circled them, to let the pups grow familiar with the scent of spear shafts and leather, and to walk beside them without either child or animal pulling ahead.

The cavern filled with whistles, clipped commands, low growls, and the occasional startled yelp. Dravak watched with his arms folded. The wolves weren't ready to hunt or fight beside the tribe. Not yet. For now, they were only more mouths to feed, and winter would make that burden harder to ignore. But he could already see what they might become. Speed through the forest. Teeth striking beside a spear line. Terror moving through the darkness before an enemy ever saw the goblins following behind.

If the pups grew into what he imagined, they would repay every scrap the tribe had fed them ten times over. Another change. Another possibility. When the lesson ended, the children scattered with their pups, some returning to the hearth while others wrestled with them among the furs. Grub rubbed one hand across his tired face, glanced toward the scaffold, and began climbing again. Dravak followed him with his eyes and felt that familiar thought surface once more. Strange ways. Strange results.

The breakthrough came late that evening. Over the two weeks since the work began, the shallow hollow above the hearth had become something closer to an inverted bowl carved into the ceiling. During that time, Dravak had begun noticing other things. A spark flashing across Grub's fingers when no fire stood near enough to explain it. A brief curl of smoke swallowed almost immediately by the haze overhead. Once, Grub had wiped a damp hand against his clothes after casting, though no water had touched him.

None of the effects lasted more than a moment, and Grub barely reacted to them. Dravak kept them in mind, but saw no reason to stop the work. Grub had never been careless with dangers he understood. If he showed no concern, Dravak was willing to continue watching before demanding answers. For now, his attention remained upon the vent. Grub hadn't attempted to force a narrow passage straight into the ceiling.

Instead, he had widened the lower opening first, gradually carving out a broad recess large enough to admit his head and shoulders. Standing upon the highest rung of the ladder, he could lean his upper body into the hollow and work without reaching blindly into the stone above him. From the crown of the bowl, a narrower passage extended up into the stone. It was still shallow enough for Grub to reach its farthest point, though his arm now disappeared into it past the elbow whenever he worked at the end.

He had quickly learned that he didn't need to cut through the entire ceiling one small flake at a time. Stone Tap helped him find seams and softer stretches. Grain Shift loosened the rock around them, while Stone Chip opened shallow notches where the tribe's tools could take hold. From there, magic gave way to bone, stone, and stubborn effort. Grub drove wedges into the weakened seams with stone hammers, then worked sharpened lengths of bone beneath the loosened sections and leaned his weight against them.

Once enough stone had been chipped away from above and the fracture had spread far enough, the unsupported portion would tear free, causing chunks larger than Grub's head to break loose and fall onto the hides spread around the foot of the ladder. The work remained slow, but each larger piece saved him dozens of castings and hours of scraping. Smoke gathered thickly within the new recess.

Heat from the hearth carried the dark cloud into the bowl and up into the unfinished passage, where it pooled against the unbroken stone above until the hollow filled and the excess spilled back into the cavern. Dravak sat beside the fire and watched with mild interest as Grub climbed the ladder again. Two Warriors stood at its base, each gripping one side to keep it steady. He stopped just beneath the smoke gathered inside the recess and cast Stone Tap toward the stone overhead. The answer came back faintly.

He went still, listening, then shifted his aim slightly and cast again. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. The same thin response returned. Even Dravak could hear that the stone above no longer answered like the surrounding rock. A grin began spreading across Grub's face. He pulled the cloth down from his mouth, drew several deep breaths from the cleaner air below the smoke, then covered his face again and climbed up into the smoke.

Reaching as high as he could, he pressed his fingers against the stone and cast Stone Chip. A thin crack appeared overhead. Grub descended immediately, ducking beneath the smoke to breathe again before climbing back up. Another cast widened the crack. He dropped down once more, filled his lungs, and returned. For a heartbeat after the next Spell, nothing happened. Then the last layer of stone gave way. A shard broke free and struck the hides below, followed by a narrow beam of gray evening light.

Cold air slipped through the opening, but the heat rising from the hearth pushed harder. The smoke gathered inside the carved recess shuddered. Then it surged upward. The dark cloud narrowed as it climbed, pulled into the opening in a twisting stream before vanishing into the world above. Dravak leaned forward. Smoke that had gathered beneath the cavern roof for as long as the Ironfang had lived there now had somewhere else to go. A laugh burst from Grub, startled and breathless.

"Fuck yes! I did it!" The words rose into a cheer loud enough to turn every head in the cavern. Conversations broke apart as goblins stopped in the middle of their work. Children hurried toward the hearth, while the wolves tilted their heads curiously and watched the sudden movement around them. Grub clung to the ladder, still laughing as he stared up through the opening he had carved. Above him, the smoke cloud above the hearth continued thinning.

Several goblins who had been coughing drew deeper breaths and looked at one another as though only now realizing what had changed. Grub recovered himself quickly and returned to work. He widened the opening carefully, ducking beneath the smoke to breathe before climbing again for each cast. Every piece he removed strengthened the pull. By the time his Mana emptied and he climbed down for the last time, the smoke no longer spilled back out of the recess.

It gathered there, climbed through the passage, and left the cavern. A small crowd remained beneath it, staring upward. Dravak gave Grub a single nod. He returned it with a tired grin, his face streaked with soot and stone dust. Then Dravak looked away. A Chief couldn't stare too long at a miracle without admitting how badly his tribe had needed one. The wall was completed the following day.

With the vent now carrying hearth smoke steadily out of the cavern, the final logs were lashed into place and the upper gaps were sealed. The four wall-workers packed the last seams while Grub climbed the ladder whenever his Mana allowed and continued shaping the passage above the hearth. The heavy door slab was shaved once more, tested against the opening, then leaned beside the frame until it was needed. That evening, winter struck the ridge in earnest. The wind arrived with a howl.

It tore through the trees outside and forced itself through the narrowing gaps around the cave mouth hard enough to make the pups whine and the children draw their furs tighter. Cold air swept across the floor, slipping beneath clothing and settling against skin. Dravak watched his tribe retreat toward the fires. Shoulders hunched. Hands disappeared beneath arms. The old instinct to endure settled over them with the ease of long practice. Then he gave the order.

"Shut it." The four wall-workers moved at once. They lifted the heavy slab, carried it between the uprights, and lowered it into the groove Grub had carved along the floor. Once it sat flush against the frame, they rolled two heavy stones against its base and hammered wooden wedges into the remaining gaps until the door stopped shifting. The final strip of gray light vanished. Outside, the wind continued to rage. Inside, it faded into a distant moan.

Dravak grinned as he carried a fresh armful of wood to the hearth and fed it into the flames himself. The fire climbed, carrying the smoke into the hollow and out through the vent before it could spread across the cavern. Warmth began collecting inside the cavern. Slowly at first, then steadily. Within minutes, the difference was noticeable. The tribe shifted warily beneath it. A few goblins stretched their hands toward the fire and stared at their fingers as feeling returned more quickly than expected.

The last of the wounded in the alcove sank into genuine sleep rather than the shallow restless slumber he had managed for days, his breathing deepening as the cold receded. Dravak approached the new barricade across the cave mouth and pressed his palm against the mud-packed hide between two of the wooden supports. Cold waited on the other side. He could feel it faintly through the wall, but the wind no longer carried it into the cavern. Behind him, the air remained still. Safe. Warm. A thought came to him.

Dravak turned toward the four wall-workers.

"You. Come here." They approached with dried mud covering their arms and cautious expressions on their faces. Dravak used Identify on the first. The words that appeared before him made his grin return. [Goblin Builder – Level 3] Health: 40/40 | Stamina: 30/30 | Mana: 10/10 He checked the others, one by one, his grin widening with each result.

[Goblin Builder – Level 3] Health: 40/40 | Stamina: 30/30 | Mana: 10/10 [Goblin Builder – Level 4] Health: 50/50 | Stamina: 40/40 | Mana: 10/10 [Goblin Builder – Level 4] Health: 50/50 | Stamina: 40/40 | Mana: 10/10"Open your Status," Dravak ordered them. The four obeyed. Their eyes unfocused, then widened almost together.

"Builder," one said. Another looked toward the barricade across the cave mouth, then down at the mud dried across his hands. A short laugh escaped him.

"Builder," he repeated. The word carried farther than the first time. Heads turned throughout the cavern. Several goblins glanced toward the Medics in their alcove before looking back at the newly named Builders.

"First Medics," someone murmured.

"Now Builders."

"Strange tribe," another voice said, though the words carried none of the earlier scorn. The four remained where they stood, looking between one another and the wall they had raised. One reached back and set his palm against the nearest wooden support, as though confirming it remained solid beneath his hand. Dravak watched them for a moment, then drew breath to speak again. The System interrupted. A deep chime sounded inside his skull, resonating along his teeth. A second followed, softer but no less insistent.

Dravak went still. The Builders waited before him, their attention fixed upon his face. One shifted uncertainly when his eyes unfocused, but none dared speak. Dravak barely noticed. He had heard that deeper note only once before, when the System decided he had earned something beyond a single kill or level. He raised a hand, signaling the Builders to wait, and opened the notifications. Pale letters appeared before him in the firelight. [Congratulations! Achievement Earned: Keeper of the Hearth] Keeper of the Hearth: You have led your tribe to adopt true sheltercraft, pairing a smoke vent with a wind-breaking barricade to harden your home against the cold. Others roam and endure. You have chosen to make a place endurable. Reward: +1 to All Stats. New Passive: Hearthbound Morale Hearthbound Morale (Passive): Allied goblins within your domain recover stamina more quickly and suffer reduced fatigue.

When defending the domain, allied goblins additionally resist fear and morale-breaking effects. Experience Gained. [Congratulations! Battle Chief has reached Level 23. +1 Strength, +1 Constitution, +1 Intelligence. 2 Free Stat Points Available.] [Proceed to Stat Allocation] Dravak stared until the words stopped resembling tricks made from smoke and flame. Then he dismissed them. The change passed through him like a slow, deep current. Muscle settled more firmly along bone.

His balance adjusted beneath him, while the thoughts behind his eyes seemed to clear. The ache in his shoulder eased slightly, and his next breath came with less strain. Hearthbound Morale lingered at the edge of his awareness like a distant drumbeat, quiet and steady beneath everything else.

"Chief?" The Builders still waited before him. The one who had spoken glanced between Dravak and the empty air where his attention had rested.

"What did the System show you?" Dravak looked at the four of them, then toward the wall they had raised.

"An Achievement," he said.

"And another level." Their eyes widened again.

"For the wall?" one asked.

"For what it made of this cavern." His gaze traveled past them and settled upon Grub. He sat at the edge of the firelight with his back against the stone, exhaustion dragging at his eyes. Dust, resin, mud, and charcoal stained his hands. Sable slept curled against his feet.

"The System named you Builders," Dravak said.

"It named the others Medics. And now it has rewarded me for the changes he began." The nearest Builder followed Dravak's gaze.

"So he changed us?"

"I don't know." The Builders fell silent. Dravak looked across the four mud-streaked goblins, then toward the wall they had raised.

"But the System has noticed what's happening here, and I intend to understand why." He jerked his chin toward the fire.

"Go. Warm yourselves. You've done enough for one day." The Builders struck their fists against their chests and moved away, still casting uncertain glances toward Grub as they joined the others around the hearth. Dravak remained beside the wall. Shaman, some goblins still whispered when they believed no one could hear, but the word no longer carried the same fear. Dravak had known Grub was System-blessed. The pebble had only revealed how far that blessing reached.

But Medics and Builders now stood inside his cavern, paths no goblin had ever possessed before, and the System had rewarded Dravak for changes Grub had set into motion. Magic. Medics. Builders. Walls. Vents. Strange ways. Strange results. Grub's blessing no longer seemed confined to Grub alone. A Chief didn't have the luxury of pretending that didn't matter.