Kreeta stopped short upon encountering the gag, and then her eyes widened as she caught my expression.

  I glared at the sentries and leveled them with my best look of disdain. “Are the tunnels too dark that your putrid eyes don’t see?”

  The goblins shuddered. “So sorry, captain. We didn’t see you there.”

  I curled my lip. It seemed that I had made the right choice by selecting the appearance of the Goblin Captain. However, with most of my goblin knowledge coming from the little Kreeta had shared, I couldn’t exactly sell the part. Thankfully, [Impostor] filled the gap, granting me the mannerisms and speech patterns peculiar to goblins.

  “Sorry for yourselves,” I said. “I’ll deal with you lot the next time we cross paths. Now, clear the way and get out of my sight.”

  The sentries glanced at each other, then at the prisoners we led. “Are those humans? If you need escorts—”

  “Fucking vamoose!”

  The sentries squeaked and scrambled into the safety of the alcoves.

  “Vamoose?” Paz chuckled under his breath once we’d crossed the vicinity. “Who says vamoose?”

  I ignored him and focused instead on the tunnels. The dark, musty passageways narrowed the further we traveled until Paz and Kajal both had to stoop to avoid bruising their heads. We transitioned from a flat path to a steep incline downward, and yet, Kreeta kept issuing instructions that took us deeper into the earth.

  The walls of the tunnel contracted until we couldn’t move without brushing up against the sides. Loose dirt rained on our heads. A small lump formed in my throat, gradually growing larger as the telltale signs of suffocation settled in my lungs.

  It was all in my head. The rational part of my consciousness knew this and assured me of my ability to breathe. Despite its best efforts, an irrational dread seized my bones, progressing into a full-on panic as we embarked on another descent.

  Kreeta and Medekeine handled the situation just fine, cave dwellers that they were. But, Kajal and Logain breathed as harshly as I did, uncomfortable with the oppressive walls of the tunnels.

  I was just about to call for a break when the tunnel opened up again into a wide path. The air here tasted fresher somewhat, cleaner too, and cooler on the face. I sighed in relief despite myself and took a moment to gather my breath.

  “What’s this?” Medekeine said. “Our young elf lordling can’t handle a little cave diving?”

  “Shut it,” I rasped.

  “Can’t stand the thought of crawling through the deep bosom of the earth?”

  “Medekeine—”

  “This is nothing to us, dwarves. We’ve created tunnels throughout most of the known world. I once had an estate right next to a magma stream . . .” His words petered off as his expression darkened.

  ‘Had’, huh?

  How far had we traveled beneath the surface? And, could the captives be expected to retain their sanity after spending long weeks within the earth? Every fiber of my being warned about the danger of pressing forward, and yet, we kept walking toward our doom. Oh, gosh—

  Hey! It seems you are afraid!

  +1 has been added to all stats.

  The sudden message caused me to chuckle. Trust [Scaredy-cat] to pop up in my time of need. It had been a while since I’d triggered the technique, but the reminder helped calm my nerves.

  I didn’t just have an affinity for Fear, I was born of it since my first day in Vizhima. Other sophonts could worry about being stuck with goblins in the tunnels. But, the goblins were the ones who needed to worry about me.

  Fear was the master of shadows and darkness which meant that its influence extended far below the ground. The realization helped me stand a tad straighter. I studied the wide passage and glanced inquisitively at Kreeta.

  Almost there, she conveyed with a nod.

  A few more sentries watched us from hidden alcoves as we traversed the passage. Their keen eyes followed our train, rapidly losing interest when they noticed my rank. A couple of them snored in their positions, which was good. As long as they didn’t bother us, Kreeta wouldn’t have any chances to oust our party. Even now, she watched the alcoves with hopeful eyes as though hoping for a miracle.

  I prodded her ribs. “Stop doing that.”

  After a few more minutes of traveling, the air became noticeably warmer.

  “Nitrates,” Medekeine hissed and sniffed the air. “That’s the smell of goblin munitions.”

  “They produce bombs here in the tunnels?” I asked.

  “Most likely. Either that or they transport them from the Fanged Mountains.” Medekeine grinned. “This makes our job easier, doesn’t it? Goblins are notoriously bad at observing safety protocols.”

  The entrance of a large cave loomed in the distance. Two other tunnels joined ours, all converging at the cave’s mouth. A handful of Goblin Scouts manned the entrance, all fully armed, as illuminated by crude torches on the walls. They cheered as they saw us and gathered around our convoy.

  “What’s this?” A rather pale-skinned goblin leered at Kajal. “Humans? Here in the forest?”

  “Can we eat them?” another goblin asked.

  “Don’t do that!” yet another said. “You’ll get worms and all kinds of diseases. Stick to the elves!”

  My eyes narrowed despite myself. “Move.”

  The goblins reluctantly parted.

  “You can leave the slaves here with us, captain,” the pale-skinned goblin said. “We’ll take them to the pens, nice and quiet. You must have better things to do.” His eyes met Kreeta’s, and he performed a double take. “Oi. Isn’t that little Kreeta? What are you acting all quiet for?”

  I placed a hand on Kreeta’s nape and squeezed in warning. “She’s with me. We have business with the other captains. And, I can handle my affairs myself.”

  “Is that so?”

  One of the goblins prodded Kajal inappropriately and my heart leaped into my throat as the muscles of her body tensed. She refrained from striking, however, maintaining the appearance of a bound, hapless prisoner.

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  “I don’t want to be rude, captain,” the pale goblin said, “but if the humans have started sending soldiers into Dreadwood—”

  “Did you not hear me the first time, milkskin?” I snarled.

  The pale goblin flinched at the barb.

  His colleagues quietened and looked away, hints of dismay written on their features. Their reactions revealed that I’d used the insult correctly for the first time in my life. Milkskin seemed to be a derogatory term for goblins with fair-complexioned skin like him.

  Now, I felt bad.

  The pale goblin shuffled out of the way, ordering his men back to their positions. I snarled for good measure, to sell the ruse and avoid further interrogation. We proceeded past the mouth of the cave into the yawning interior that lay beyond. I pretended not to notice the gazes that burned into my back.

  What now? I started to ask Kreeta when the words died in my throat.

  An artificial cave, most likely hollowed out by magic, stretched out in all corners of the darkness. A few crude torches of stave and hemp illuminated specific portions, though the light was mostly swallowed up by the sheer vastness of the cave. A wide stone bridge extended from the entrance and down to a sprawling area. Crude stone pillars stabilized the ceiling which towered a few meters over our heads.

  Down in the camp proper, the bare ground was covered with green as far as the eye could see. And, I didn’t mean grass. Every inch of space was occupied by goblin bodies who snored on the rocky ground. They slept without mats, pallets, or items of demarcation, making it difficult to tell where one goblin ended and another began. A rough estimate put their numbers at a few hundred if not over a thousand.

  This was what the Wood King expected the elf villages to handle on their own.

  A second stone bridge led from the entrance to a distant part of the cavern. Rows of iron cages stood there, propped up against the wall. Dread Tigers of all shapes and sizes, some no older than cubs, occupied those cages. They hissed at nearby goblins and pinned for the blood and visceral matter that tainted the area. I shuddered to think about the source.

  The goblins gave the areas near the Dread Tigers a wide berth, with only the bravest daring to sleep in front of the cages. I could use that. My attention was soon drawn, however, to the presence of chambers, hewn in the stone, that served as special rooms barred from the rest of the populace.

  Medekeine spat on the ground. “Of course, it stinks. To think that the Tinfolk are so occupied with infighting that they allow such vile habitats to form in their domain.” He shook his head. “Go find the prisoners. I have investigations of my own to perform.”

  “Too dangerous,” I said. “We can’t afford separation.”

  “‘Too dangerous,’ he says. Maybe you should have considered that before we entered this godforsaken lair to free some elves. I am only here for news about the Goblin Prince, nothing more.”

  “But, Kreeta said—”

  “I don’t care what she said!”

  I suppressed a growl of frustration. Kreeta hadn’t been very helpful during interrogation, but she had revealed that there were, at least, rumors of a Goblin Prince. No one had seen him yet, however; a condition that was also true for most of the Goblin Chiefs. The upper echelon of goblin leadership refused to venture out of the mountains for reasons best known to them.

  That information was good enough for the rest of us to work with, but Medekeine and his unhealthy obsession with the horde were far from satisfied.

  Kajal chose that moment to make her thoughts known. “I’m with Damien. There’s at least one insanely powerful monster connected to this camp. We will do our chances of survival some good by sticking together. We cannot afford to draw attention to ourselves.”

  My stomach tossed. Galagor was the goblin she spoke about, the one who ruled this army with an iron fist. He was the only Goblin Chief to join the advance forces, and his presence had hastened the fall of Nybala and Harkonean.

  Galagor was currently off in the west, coordinating the attack on another elf village. He was reportedly the goblin that had killed Nana Irithiel, and although every bit of me burned with the desire for revenge, I knew just as well that this wasn’t the time.

  For our sake, Galagor would remain away from his lair until we had pulled off the rescue. Only then would I go hunting for the bastard.

  A nearby goblin noticed us and began a hasty climb up the stone bridge. We had probably lingered long enough to draw suspicion, so I cleared my throat to warn the others.

  The goblin—a short, thin figure with a hog ring in his nose—screamed at the top of his lungs. “That you, Hagar? You dare show your face here?”

  Hagar? Was that the name of this skin?

  “What do you want?” I snapped, despite the pounding in my chest.

  I knew next to nothing about the character I impersonated save for the fact that he was a Goblin Captain. And, just my luck, the goblin that approached us was also of the same class, LVL 35.

  “What do I want?” the newcomer parroted and stopped in front of my face. “You took our best Sorcerers and got them killed in a needless fight on the surface! Greed magic? Really? You know we were saving that for the assault on the villages!”

  Oh, crap. It seemed like a survivor or two had made it out of our early battle in the forest to report the events. Hagar’s true fate remained unknown, however. One point in my favor. But, the captain opposite me seemed displeased. I wouldn’t have to serve punishment for what Hagar had done, right?

  “Where have you been anyway?” Hog Ring yapped. “It’s been two weeks since you were last seen by any of our people. Galagor’s anger reached a tipping point. How do you intend to resolve that?”

  “Um . . .” I stammered. “With an apology, perhaps?”

  Thankfully, Hog Ring was easily distracted because he abandoned his line of query once he noticed the others. “Humans!” he hissed. “Don’t tell me! Are these the same bastards that butchered your squad?”

  “Yes.”

  Hog Ring’s scornful gaze changed to one of admiration. “Good. That’s the Hagar I know. This will appease the others. We’ll eat some new meat for a change, starting with breakfast.”

  What?!

  “You, there,” Hog Ring said and gestured at Kreeta. “See the slaves off to the butcher. Inform him that I want them skinned pretty good!”

  “No, no, no,” I said. “I need to question them before they are slaughtered. Interrogation, torture, and then the pot.”

  “Please, don’t do that!” Paz suddenly announced. “I’ll do anything! I’ll tell you all you want!”

  His voice sounded normal, for a hysterical person that is, but I’d known him long enough to recognize the laughter in his tone. The freaking bastard! Did he not understand our situation?

  “Quiet!” Hog Ring said, drawing his knife. “Or I’ll gut you where you stand!”

  Kajal and Logain both whimpered, enhancing the scene. Their acting was too obvious for someone like me. And yet, Hog Ring bought it hook, line, and sinker. He waved his knife a few times, reveling in his cruelty, and punched Paz in the gut.

  Paz’s expression dipped just the slightest.

  “I guess you have a point,” Hog Ring conceded and sheathed his knife. “Very well, your lackeys may take them to the slave pits. Tell old Braka to welcome them with thirty lashes each!” He cocked his head. “Nevertheless, Hagar, you must come with me. We have much to discuss.”

  Kreeta started to gesture when I again palmed the back of her nape.

  Hog Ring narrowed his eyes. “Why are you acting suspicious, maggot? Did you not hear me? Take the prisoners to the slave pits!”

  “She’s mute,” I said and nodded at Medekeine. “Oi, Az-fess. Go along with her.”

  Medekeine glowered at me.

  “You seem like a rather unusual goblin, Az-fess,” Hog Ring said—and I swear Paz chuckled—“You’re not one of those inbreds from the Nkuruk clan, are you? Either way, come along, Hagar. Quickly now. Best we get it over with before the others wake up.”

  Hog Ring scampered off before he even finished speaking, down the stone bridge and across the pile of sleeping goblins. He walked atop them as he went with no qualms about his actions.

  I glanced at the others and said beneath my breath. “Seems like separation is inevitable. I guess I’ll leave the freeing of the prisoners to you?”

  Kajal nodded slightly. She looked me in the eye through her blindfold. “Should we wait for your reappearance before we begin?”

  I studied the gaping cavern, teeming with hundreds upon hundreds of slumbering goblins. “Too risky. The sooner we get out of this place, the better off we’ll be. I’ll manage on my own. You just focus on saving yourselves. Kreeta”—I offered her a frown—“Don’t make trouble, and I promise that no harm will befall you. The others will leave you bound in a spot where you can stay out of harm’s way until you are found by your goblin siblings. I’ll keep my end of the deal and leave the ears of your colleagues in a gravesite near the tree.”

  Kreeta audibly gulped and nodded.

  Kajal interjected, “I’ll rescue as many Dark Elves as I can, Damien.”

  “Thank you. And—”

  “Should I find the Harkon or anyone called Mavari, I promise to prioritize their safety.”

  I beamed in gratitude. “I wish us good luck, then. See you all on the other side, assuming I don’t join your escape.”

  “That sounds ominous,” Logain said.

  But, I was already hopping across goblin bodies to catch up with Hog Ring.