Chapter 85 - 84: Not One People, But One Future
The sun had barely risen when Lumberling and his group returned to Uncle Drake’s village. This time, he wasn’t alone.
Skitz walked beside him, cloaked but upright. Behind them came a small escort, twenty goblin soldiers, twenty kobolds, twenty cavalry boars tugging wagons of supplies. Their armor was clean. Their weapons sheathed. Their posture straight.
Still, they drew stares.
Lumberling could feel it, the way the villagers paused mid-step, the way conversations died as they passed. Mothers pulled children closer. A few hands went to tools and blades. And yet, no one moved to attack. Not with Uncle Drake walking at the front and Orrin flanking their other side like sentinels of familiarity.
"They need to see it," Lumberling had told Skitz earlier. "They need to look our people in the eye before they decide anything."
Now they were doing just that.
Celine met them near the edge of the field, one hand resting on her swelling belly. She gave a small nod of greeting and took her place beside Drake. It was time.
They gathered near the central well. Familiar faces emerged, weathered by time, shaped by harvests and hard winters. Faces softened by months of quiet village life, but now shadowed by fear, uncertainty, and the weight of an impossible decision.
The village was small, barely a hundred souls by most counts. One hundred thirty-one, to be exact.
Lumberling stepped forward, but it was Orrin who spoke first.
His voice was strong, not loud, but clear enough to carry.