Chapter 54: The Rise of the Kobolds!

As soon as Brother Lawrence left, the kobold Fesha arrived at the camp.

Ever since her little trick of letting Riverbend raise her dog had been exposed by Leo, Fesha hadn’t set foot in Riverbend for a long while. Even the kobold mining teams had suddenly become loose and disorganized. Leo even suspected the kobold valley had changed leaders—after all, kobolds weren’t exactly a civilized race, and no matter how clever Fesha was, she might not survive a single blow from one of those hotheads beneath her. If Urian hadn’t been so busy, Leo would have gone to the kobold valley himself to see what was going on.

Iron ore from the kobold valley was currently Riverbend’s primary economic resource. If anything happened, Leo wouldn’t mind taking the militia over for another campaign.

His worries eased only when he saw Fesha swaggering into the camp, flanked by several sturdy kobold guards, her tail swishing with pride.

Back when the little mouse and the marmot used to huddle together, their main pastime was experimenting with the cowlick—though the little mouse could straighten her hair with her own hands, Freya, with her short arms, short legs, and short fur, found herself at an impasse. In the end, it was clever Fesha who provided the solution: using pine resin from the forest to style their hair!

That’s why Freya was often seen strutting around camp with a crest of hair like a rooster’s comb. If her cowlick wasn’t long enough, she made up for it with quantity! Not only did she sport a rooster’s comb, but the entire line of black fur down her back was styled into a row of crests by the little mouse.

The marmot transformed into a saber-toothed dragon.

This look caught on rapidly among the kobolds, a race naturally in awe of strength.

Now, Fesha and her guards all wore rooster’s combs, clad in fur armor, carrying small round shields, short spears, and crossbows—they were like a miniature version of the Riverbend militia.

And, truth be told, the golden-furred kobolds, who usually looked honest and clumsy, appeared much wilder with their new crests. They even seemed a bit taller—elementary schoolers turned into middle schoolers!

Swaggering into Riverbend’s territory, Fesha came before Leo, tail wagging, eyes shining with excitement, and announced loudly, “I, the clever Fesha, am the King of Kobolds!”

Leo glanced at her sideways. “Are you looking for a beating?”

Fesha placed her hands on her hips and declared, “No! Fesha attacked another kobold tribe. They surrendered! I am the Kobold King!”

Leo was taken aback. “So you haven’t been around because you were off fighting a war?”

“Yes! War! Victory!”

As it turned out, after her resolve was reignited, Fesha gathered her well-armed followers and trekked over ten miles to attack another kobold tribe. With her replicas of iron slings, throwing spears, and crossbows, she unleashed a barrage that left the more numerous enemy kobolds in disarray. When Fesha’s troops entered the enemy lair, forming a shield wall and advancing steadily—just as Leo had done in the kobold valley—the opposing chief surrendered decisively.

Just like when Leo had marched into the kobold valley himself, it was as if a squad of riot police faced a mob of unruly gangsters: you could tell who would win just by looking at their formation. The only difference this time was that both sides were kobolds; surrendering didn’t trouble their conscience in the least.

Kobolds are simple creatures, driven by strength, not intellect—whoever is stronger is the boss, no need for overthinking. Fesha’s father, the previous chief, had been killed by Leo not long ago, but she seemed to have forgotten all about it.

Some kobold tribes, on the brink of extinction, even sacrificed their old and weak to the neighboring ogres or dire wolves in hopes of protection. Many human adventurers, seeing a tribe that had tamed an ogre, imagined they must be formidable—never guessing the kobolds had simply made themselves the ogre’s larder.

Leo wasn’t much interested in skirmishes between what amounted to elementary school classes, but Fesha’s behavior put him on alert. The wilds were even more brutal and competitive than he’d imagined. It hadn’t been long since the kobold valley had been conquered, and already Fesha was attacking another tribe. True, Fesha’s intelligence played a major role, but the strength of her tribe and the support of her followers were crucial as well.

In the wild, any tribe with even a little power had to expand actively, or risk being discovered and enslaved by a stronger force. With the orc invasion, the entire Wolfdriven Plain was in upheaval. Just as Leo had explained to Elder Zulvan, this was a time of big fish eating little fish—a reshuffling of all power. Hiding was no solution.

“It seems that when Urian returns, we’ll have to discuss taking in refugees,” Leo thought.

Fesha’s little “expedition” had brought over a hundred new kobolds to the valley, most of them young and able-bodied—more warriors than her original tribe. Not every kobold tribe was lucky enough to have a neighbor like Riverbend. Most were surrounded by even more savage races like gnolls or boarmen, or simply lived near monster dens.

For such inherently disadvantaged races, life in the wild was always a struggle. Even with a gold mine, many would starve in winter. Early spring was the season for culling the weakest members of the tribe.

Fesha’s population boom didn’t worry Leo too much.

Riverbend and the kobold valley were less than ten miles apart, practically neighbors—it was easy to keep tabs on any news. As long as Fesha remained in charge, her intelligence would ensure she understood the importance of trade with Riverbend. And if someone else seized power and decided to cause trouble, Riverbend could use the opportunity for more militia training.

Still, Leo knew he had to find ways to speed up Riverbend’s development. Who knew when clever Fesha might embark on another campaign? He couldn’t have traveled across worlds just to be outdone by a husky!

Fesha hadn’t come just to boast about her victories; she also had a proposal for a joint military operation.

“An alliance? Against whom?” Leo asked.

“Ogres.” Fesha spread her arms wide, making a big circle in the air. “Ogres—huge! As big as Freya!”

Leo couldn’t help but laugh. These kobolds were truly bold. The battles with the boarmen and her recent campaign had clearly gone to Fesha’s head.

“You dare take on ogres? Can you even break through their defenses?”

“Ogres are to the west, very close, a big threat!” Fesha did her best to explain, then pored over Urian’s battered map, suddenly jabbing a finger at a spot.

“Here!”

Leo studied the map silently. That location was just southwest of the kobold valley, about ten miles out, not far from Riverbend either—the three points forming almost a triangle. By comparison, the kobold valley was hidden in the northwestern hills, fairly concealed; Riverbend, though a bit further from the ogres, was in fact more exposed.

“That is close. How many ogres are there?”

“Two!”

Leo relaxed a little and nodded. “That’s manageable. I’ll make some preparations, and then we’ll go take care of them together.”

“Good! Neighbor! Ally!” Fesha wagged her tail furiously, delighted by his promise.