Preparing for the Duel
The goblin scout hesitates before speaking, its yellow eyes flicking between me and the darkened treeline. It knows what I'm asking for—an advantage, something to tilt the fight in my favor.
"Strong," it finally says. "Faster than others. Smarter."
I nod, waiting for more.
The goblin gestures toward the ridge where we had spied on the camp. "Not just leader. He is…" It frowns, searching for the word. "Champion."
That gets my attention. "Champion?"
The scout nods. "Tribe strongest. Others follow because he wins."
I exhale slowly. This won't be just a normal fight. The duel won't be against some random warrior—it will be against the one who has already proven himself above the others. If I win, I won't just be accepted; I'll be feared and respected. If I lose, I'll be another outsider who challenged the wrong tribe.
I check my system.
Current Gold: 510
Passive Income: 20 Gold per Minute
I finally have enough to make a real move. Opening my upgrade menu, I scan my options. A second Guardian has reinforced my defenses, and my workers are keeping my economy steady, but if I want to win this fight, I need more than just raw confidence.
[Available Upgrades]
Upgrade Guardian Unit (500 Gold) – Enhances strength, speed, and combat ability.
Personal Enhancement (400 Gold) – Increases Strength and Agility by 20%.
New Combat Unit: Goblin Warrior (450 Gold) – Trained melee fighter.
The Personal Enhancement immediately catches my eye. A direct boost to my own abilities could be the deciding factor in a fight against the goblin champion. I select it without hesitation.
[400 Gold Deducted – Applying Enhancement…]
A shockwave pulses through my body, an invisible force igniting in my muscles. I stagger slightly, my skin tingling as if waking up for the first time. My senses sharpen, the world becoming clearer, brighter. My grip tightens on my spear, feeling lighter, more natural in my hands.
A system notification pops up.
[Personal Enhancement Applied!]
Strength +20%
Agility +20%
I take a slow breath, testing my balance. Everything feels right. My movements are smoother, more controlled. I feel faster, stronger, and more in tune with my body than I ever have before.
I still have 110 gold left, which means I can start building up again before the duel. Turning to the goblin scout, I level my gaze at it. "How does the duel work?"
The scout considers for a moment before answering. "Fight in the circle. No weapons."
I frown. "Barehanded?"
The goblin nods. "Winner decides. Kill or spare."
A traditional combat test. If I beat their champion, I'll have his fate in my hands. I could execute him, proving my dominance through fear, or I could spare him and show them that I'm not just here to take over with brute strength. It's a choice I'll have to make when the time comes.
I scan my camp, the glow of the system interface flickering softly in the air. My workers keep gathering, increasing my income. My Guardians stand watch, ready for battle. My scout has shifted from a wary outsider to a true asset.
I'm not just surviving anymore. I'm building something. Tomorrow, the goblins will see it for themselves. I roll my shoulders, feeling the lingering energy of my enhancement, then smirk.
"I'm ready."
---
The next morning, I stand at the edge of my territory, staring out toward the forest. My goblin scout stands beside me, shifting its weight slightly as if unsure of my decision. I don't bring my spear. The fight will be without weapons, just strength against strength.
Behind me, my Guardians remain at their posts, silent and motionless as sentinels. My workers continue their tasks, oblivious to the gamble I'm about to take. This is the moment where everything shifts. Either I prove my worth and start recruiting an army, or I become just another failed challenger.
I take a breath, steady my stance, and step into the trees.
The goblin scout leads the way, moving quickly but cautiously. It knows the weight of what's coming. We travel for almost an hour before the scent of smoke and cooked meat reaches us again.
As we approach the goblin camp, the atmosphere shifts. Eyes turn toward us, conversations halt, and the entire camp becomes eerily silent.
The tribe sees me.
Dozens of goblins—some armed, some not—stand between the huts, watching as I step into their home. The scent of burning wood and roasted meat thickens, the bonfire in the center crackling with fresh embers.
The goblin scout steps forward and speaks quickly in their language. I don't understand the words, but I don't need to. I already know what it's saying.
The leader rises from his spot near the fire.
He's bigger than the others, more muscular, with deep scars running along his arms and chest. His armor is better—reinforced leather and metal plates strapped across his body. He doesn't carry a weapon now, but I can tell just by looking at him that he's a fighter.
His glowing yellow eyes land on me, sharp and assessing. For a long moment, there is silence. Then, he speaks a single word.
"Fight."
The goblins begin moving, forming a circle around the center of the camp. I step forward, rolling my shoulders, feeling the system's enhancements still pulsing through me. The leader cracks his knuckles, expression unreadable.
Then we step into the ring.
The air shifts. This isn't just a duel—it's a battle for power.
A goblin steps between us, raising its hands. It barks out something in their language—probably stating the rules—then backs away.
The leader doesn't waste time.
He lunges.
I react instantly, dodging to the side, feeling the increased agility in my limbs. He's fast, but I'm faster. His fist swings wide, and I duck, countering with a sharp elbow to his ribs. He grunts but doesn't stumble. Instead, he grabs my arm and yanks.
I twist in his grip, using the momentum to slam my forearm into his chest. He staggers, but he doesn't fall. The goblins around us cheer, their voices rising in excitement.
The leader regains his footing, a fierce grin spreading across his face. He likes this.
Good. So do I.
We clash again, muscles straining, dust kicking up beneath our feet. Every hit echoes, every movement sends a ripple through the watching tribe. Then I see it—his stance opens, just slightly.
I move, faster than he expects. I slam my fist into his gut, then use the momentum to throw him over my shoulder.
He crashes into the dirt.
For a split second, there is silence.
Then the goblins roar.
I step back, breathing heavily, waiting for him to rise. He does, slowly. He touches the ground, fingers pressing into the dirt, then looks up at me. His eyes narrow.
Then, he does something I don't expect.
He kneels.
The watching goblins fall silent.
I stare at him, my breath still heavy.
He lowers his head. A single word leaves his mouth.
"Leader."
I blink, the realization slamming into me.
I just won the tribe.