Just as dawn broke, Kurzadh tucked his stone spear under his arm and headed toward the stream.
The fishing net had been reset last night by Dragu and two goblins. Dragu the hobgoblin was skillful, patching the broken netting tightly, and even scattering some ground-up mushrooms into the net—he claimed this stuff attracted fish. Kurzadh didn't care if it was true or not; there was no harm in trying.
The moment he hauled the net up, he heard a loud splash. Three shimmering silver fish were thrashing inside the net, the largest one nearly the length of his arm, splashing water all over his face.
"Boss is awesome!" Dragu, who was squatting nearby, shouted first. This hobgoblin was now better at flattering than Scarface. "The Chosen of the Gods is the Chosen of the Gods after all—even setting a net is better than anyone else!"
Kurzadh ignored him but felt quite pleased inside.
Three fish were enough to feed the dozen or so mouths under him, meaning they wouldn't have to worry about food today, at least.
He told the accompanying goblins to carry the fish back, while he stood by the stream, observing. This spot was decent—it had water and food—but the cave was too small, and it was too close to the woods where the previous greenskins had been wiped out. It wasn't a long-term solution.
Now that he had the system and the Territory function was activated, he needed to find a proper place to establish a tribe.
Back at the cave, the goblins were milling around the fire. Dragu had already sliced the wolf meat from the day before, skewered it on branches, and was roasting it over the flames, the fat dripping into the fire with a sizzling sound.
Kurzadh tossed the fish to Scarface, instructing it to handle them with two goblins, then squatted by the fire, pondering. "Dragu, do you know of any wider areas nearby? Needs water, not too far from the woods, and sturdy."
Dragu paused his hand, which was turning the roasting meat, and his eyes darted around. "Boss, are you talking about 'Cliffs Gap Ravine'? It's east of the woods. There's a valley there with a river running through it, and the terrain is wide open. It seems some orcs used to set up camp there, but I don't know why it's empty now."
"Cliffs Gap Ravine?" Kurzadh perked up. "Is it far from here?"
"Not far, not far! We'll definitely get there in two days!" Dragu thumped his chest. "I used to follow the orc boss over there to scavenge junk, so I know the way well!"
Kurzadh immediately made the decision. "Pack up! We're moving today!"
Moving house was simple for greenskins; they had few possessions—a few stone spears, a pile of unfinished wolf meat, and some half-woven grass ropes.
Kurzadh had the goblins take everything usable. Scarface was the cleverest, wrapping the roasted wolf meat in leaves and clutching it to its chest like a treasure.
Dragu carried the thickest wooden clubs, humming a tuneless greenskin ditty, clearly thinking, "You can't go wrong following the Chosen boss."
They walked for two days. The path wasn't easy, full of muddy potholes, and they constantly had to bypass greenskin corpses and rotting weapons.
The goblins dragged their feet, trying to sit down and rest several times, but a tap on the backside from Kurzadh's spear shaft sent them scampering forward as if injected with adrenaline.
That was just how greenskins were; they wouldn't work unless they were hit.
On the afternoon of the third day, Dragu suddenly pointed ahead and shouted, "Boss! We're here! This is the place!"
Kurzadh looked ahead, his eyes lighting up—Dragu hadn't been wrong; this place was indeed promising.
A valley lay before them, the entrance wide. As they walked in, the terrain broadened. A clear river flowed out of the valley, and the banks were covered with hemp grass and wild mushrooms.
In the distance were moderately sloped hillsides made of hard soil and rock, so there was no fear of collapse. They were only about a hundred steps from the woods behind, making it convenient to gather firewood or forage for food.
"This is it." Kurzadh nodded, feeling highly satisfied. He walked into the middle of the valley, stood on a flat clearing, and silently confirmed to the system in his mind, "Confirm building the tribe here."
[Confirmation complete.
Establishing tribe.
Please name the tribe.]
The system's voice was crisp.
Kurzadh pondered. In his previous life, he was Kurzadh. Now that he was a greenskin, he needed a name with some "toughness." He glanced at an obsidian rock nearby and said casually, "Call it Blackrock Clan."
[Tribe Name: Blackrock Clan. tribe establishment complete. Rewarding beginner blueprint: "Goblin Hut."]
[Goblin Hut: Provides a resting place for goblins. Requires 10 Waaagh Energy, 1 unit Stone, 2 units Wood, and 2 units Thatch.]
[Construction boosts tribe Order +10.]
Immediately, a faint, translucent image appeared before Kurzadh—it depicted a simple shed, with a few sticks as pillars, covered with thatch, and the required material quantities listed beside it.
"A blueprint too?" Kurzadh was stunned for a moment, then smiled. "This system is quite useful."
"Boss? What blueprint?" Dragu leaned closer, curiously looking at Kurzadh's eyes. "What are you looking at?"
"None of your business." Kurzadh waved him off, pointing toward the woods by the river. "Scarface! Take five goblins to chop wood and gather thatch! Dragu, you take three goblins to haul stone—just grab the ones by the river! Move fast! The hut must be finished before dark!"
"Got it!" Scarface answered, raising its stone spear, and darted into the woods with the goblins. Greenskins didn't need to be taught how to chop wood; they instinctively knew how to smash things with rocks.
Dragu was also sharp, directing the goblins to run toward the river. If they couldn't move the big stones, they moved the small ones. Those little greenskin legs were churning quickly.
Kurzadh didn't stay idle. He found a flat rock to serve as his "command platform" and squatted there, watching.
Seeing the goblins struggling to chop wood, he called out to Dragu, "Go teach them! Sharpen the wood to stick into the ground as stakes, don't just hack randomly!"
Dragu quickly ran over and used his spear to demonstrate to the goblins. "Idiots! Chop here! Make a slanted cut! That's how it stays steady in the ground!" Although hobgoblins weren't good fighters, they were much better at these kinds of tasks than goblins.
The goblins followed suit. Although their cuts were crooked, they were finally getting the hang of it.
Before long, several sharpened wooden stakes were driven into the ground, forming a square frame.
Next came laying the thatch, which was also chaotic. Some were laid upside down, others weren't tight enough. Scarface squeaked in frustration and immediately slapped the stupidest goblin.
Kurzadh didn't intervene. Greenskins had to be noisy when they worked; the louder they argued, the more energy they had.
They worked frantically from the afternoon until the sun was about to set, finally managing to put the hut together.
Calling it a hut was generous; it was essentially a straw frame that offered minimal protection from the wind—four wooden sticks as pillars, haphazardly covered with thatch, and the sides blocked with branches. It looked so rickety that a strong gust of wind could probably knock it down.
The goblins were exhausted and collapsed on the ground. Dragu wiped sweat from his brow and approached Kurzadh. "Boss, it's finished... take a look?"
Kurzadh jumped down from his rock and walked over to inspect the hut.
It was certainly crude, a far cry from the blueprint. He silently told the system, "Construction complete."
The moment he spoke, the hut suddenly hummed and emitted a faint green light!
The green light enveloped the hut and circled it. The crooked wooden stakes suddenly straightened themselves, the thatch automatically settled into neater layers, and the side branches were fitted more tightly. Although still simple, it was significantly sturdier than before and much easier on the eyes.
The green light vanished in a flash, as if it had never been there.
But the surrounding Greenskins were dumbfounded!
Scarface stood with its mouth agape, its stone spear clattering onto the ground.
The goblins forgot their exhaustion, scrambling up to circle the hut, carefully touching the thatch and the wooden stakes with their claws, their eyes wide and round.
Dragu immediately dropped to his knees and kowtowed to Kurzadh. "It's a miracle! Truly a miracle! Boss, you must be personally chosen by Gork and Mork! Why else would the hut strengthen itself?!"
Greenskins had never witnessed such a sight. In their eyes, "Divine signs" only appeared when a Shaman performed a ritual, but no Shaman could make a hut change itself. This had to be Gork and Mork showing their divine power!
The goblins squeaked along, bowing and shaking their heads at Kurzadh, their adoration practically spilling from their eyes.
Before, they just thought their boss was strong, but now they knew he was truly blessed by the gods! Following a boss like this meant they would definitely eat meat every day and wouldn't be kicked around by orcs anymore!
Kurzadh felt quite gratified watching their reaction.
He kicked Dragu's backside. "Get up, stop bowing. Hurry up and have the goblins clean up the remaining materials. We're sleeping here tonight."
"Yes! Yes!" Dragu quickly scrambled up and directed the goblins to move dry grass into the hut—even if the hut had changed, they still needed something soft to sleep on. The goblins ran quickly, diving in and out of the hut, ecstatic.
As the sun set, a bonfire was lit in the valley.
Kurzadh squatted by the fire, watching the goblins giggle foolishly while crowding the hut entrance. Dragu was busy skewering fish nearby, muttering about needing to "Build a few more huts tomorrow" and "getting a rack for storing food."
The evening breeze blew through the valley, carrying the dampness of the river, but it wasn't cold.
Kurzadh touched the stone spear beside him, feeling completely secure.
The Blackrock tribe finally looked something like a "home."
He looked up at the stars and grinned—whether he was Kurzadh or Kurzadh, no matter what world he was in, he could always make something happen. This Blackrock tribe might truly grow into a respectable large tribe someday.
"Starting tomorrow, we build a palisade." Kurzadh spoke to the fire, his voice quiet but resolute.
Dragu immediately responded, "We listen to the boss! Build a palisade! If anyone dares to mess with our Blackrock tribe, we'll stab them to death with spears!"
The goblins squeaked in agreement. Although they couldn't speak, they all nodded vigorously.
The bonfire crackled, illuminating the faces of the greenskins and the small, faintly glowing hut in the valley.