Chapter 63: Chapter : 63 : I Love It Here!

Kragg sat at the head of the table in full armor, helm set beside his plate, eyes steady. Ready for his speech in front of his soldiers to increase their morals.

Down the left side of the table sat Aiden. Luna hugged his left arm; Lysandra sat on his right with Leona in a little chair between them, spooning baby food into her mouth. Thristle—red-skinned, cocky grin—took the seat beside Lysandra. On the other side of the table, Throk sat with Ivy and Fluffynugget. Ivy’s feet didn’t touch the floor. Fluffynugget sat like a loaf on her lap.

“Mii,” Fluffynugget announced at the bread basket.

Ivy pushed a roll toward him. “Here. No crumbs, okay? …Mii?”

“Mii.” Which could meant anything between yes to, I am just using you to do my biddings.

Lysandra dipped the spoon, blew on it. “Sweetheart, say ’ahh.’”

Leona flared her tiny wings and opened wide. “Ahh—” chomp. She beamed, cheeks smudged. “More!”

Aiden leaned in, amused. “Slow down, you little dragon. We don’t feed armies in one go.”

Leona poked his cheek with a sticky finger. “Daddy eat.”

“I’m good—hey, don’t smear it—” Too late. A bit of mash on his face.

Lysandra tried so hard not to smile. Failed. “You look… very fearsome like that.”

“Oh yeah?” Aiden dabbed a dab on her nose.

Lysandra froze, cross-eyed at the spot. Leona squealed. “Mummy cute!”

Luna snorted, stole a napkin, wiped Lysandra’s nose with a tiny huff. “Master, stop picking on her.”

Aiden raised his hands. “Alright, alright. Truce.”

Thristle propped her boot on the bench, shameless. “This is great. I love dinner. Food, family, chaos. Hi, Uncle.” She tipped her cup toward Kragg like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Kragg gave a short nod and kept eating, quiet as a mountain.

Throk eyed Thristle. “So… you’re really staying?”

Thristle flicked a crumb at him. “Buddy, I’ve been staying since I stepped through the gate.”

Throk tried not to smile. Failed. “Don’t call me Buddy in front of the guard.”

“I’ll call you Buddy in front of the sun.” Thristle grinned wider. Then to Aiden, with a lazy salute: “Evening, My King.”

Luna’s ears went up. “My King?”

Thristle shrugged. “What? True.” She peered at Leona. “Little flame, you look dangerously adorable.”

Leona clapped. “Mummy Thris!”

Thristle practically sparkled. “See? The wise one has spoken.”

Lysandra coughed into her fist to hide a smile and brought the spoon back. “Sweetheart, no flapping while eating.”

Leona flapped harder. “Flap!”

“Chew,” Lysandra ordered, lips twitching.

Kragg set down his knife. “Say what you came to say, Thristle.”

The table quieted. Even Ivy looked up, nervous.

Thristle sobered, shoulders squaring. “I’m not going back to Chugh. I’m done. I’m staying here—under your roof, with Lyse, with Throk… with My King. That’s it.”

Throk stared. “You’re serious.”

“Yeah, Buddy. Dead serious.”

Silence hung for a moment before Kragg gave a deep, rumbling chuckle. “Hah. As if I would refuse. You were raised alongside my daughter. You’ve always been one of mine, whether you realized it or not.” His gaze softened, if only slightly. “Then so be it. From this day forward, you are counted among my children.”

Thristle swallowed, nodded once. “Thanks, Uncle.”

Luna let out the breath she’d been holding. “Good. That’s settled.”

Leona bonked the spoon with her forehead and giggled. “Bonk.”

Aiden shook his head. “You’re chaos.”

“Daddy chaos,” Leona declared, very proud.

Lysandra fussed with a cloth. “No more bonks. Eat nicely.” She scooped another spoonful, made a little dragon noise. “Rawr—ahh.”

Leona copied her. “Rawr—ahh.” Chomp.

Throk cleared his throat, slipping into thinking mode. “If she’s staying, she has intel. We should hear it.”

Thristle tapped her cup against the table twice, leaned in. “Alright, listen up. It’s not just hobgoblins we’re dealing with anymore. My old man—he’s cozied up to the Ogre King. Guess how many big bastards he got from him?”

Throk frowned. “…Five?”

“Ha! Try twenty.” Thristle slapped the table, making Ivy jump. “Twenty ogres. Huge ones. And they’re not drunk in caves, either. Armed. Ready.”

Lysandra’s spoon froze mid-air. “Twenty?”

“Mmhm.” Thristle nodded, grin gone sharp. “And he’s not stopping there. He’s sending twenty-thousand hobgoblins. Trained. Equipped. Not like the rabble you’ve fought before. This time, he means to crush everything in his path.”

The room went quiet. Even little Leona stopped chewing, blinking at the silence.

Kragg leaned back, laughing. Not forced. Not bitter. Just a deep, fearless laugh that filled the hall. “So the bastard thinks numbers will win him the war.” He wiped his mouth with his gauntlet. “Good. Let him come. I’ll meet his ogres with steel, and his hordes with fire.”

He turned, eyes locking with Aiden. “Son. You’re with me?”

Aiden didn’t even hesitate. “Always.”

That simple. No flourish, no speech. Just steady, firm truth.

Luna puffed up immediately, tail wagging, voice ringing like she was boasting to the whole world. “Of course Master’s with you! My husband will finish off those orcs and hobgoblins like it’s nothing! They’ll learn real fast not to mess with him.”

“Damn right,” Thristle cut in, grinning sharp again. “And don’t forget me. My King’s not walking into that fight alone. He’s got me too.”

Luna’s head whipped around so fast her ears flopped. “Me too!” she barked. “He has me first!”

“Mii~” Fluffynugget threw his contribution in, stealing a piece of carrot from Ivy’s plate.

Leona blinked, then tugged Aiden’s sleeve. Her little voice piped up, sweet and small: “Daddy… please be safe. Come back to me… and Mummy.”

The table just melted. Kragg’s stone face even cracked, his lips twitching. Throk sat there blinking, ears red. Luna clutched her chest like she’d been stabbed with cuteness. Lysandra bit her lip, eyes wet, and scooped Leona into her arms.

“Oh sweetheart…” Lysandra hugged her tight, kissed her cheek. Aiden leaned in too, pressing a kiss on the other side.

Leona squealed, wings fluttering. “Hehe! Daddy and Mummy kissed me!”

Aiden chuckled low, smoothing her hair. “How could we not?”

“Rawr!” Leona declared proudly, smearing a bit of mash on his shirt.

“You’re impossible,” Aiden sighed, but he smiled anyway.

Lysandra dabbed at Leona’s face with a cloth, muttering. “Messy little dragon. But too clever for her age.”

Thristle leaned her chin on her hand, watching with a look she didn’t even bother to hide. “Damn. That’s a family right there.”

Kragg lifted his cup. “A family worth fighting for.” He downed it in one go, slammed it on the table, and his voice boomed, meant for more than just those in the room. “Let them bring their ogres. Let them march their hordes. They will find no cowards here. Only steel, only fire, only blood!”

The torches flickered with the roar in his voice. Even Fluffynugget gave a little “Mii!” like he was in on the war cry.

Luna’s ears twitched, and she grinned, teeth sharp. “See? Told you. Master doesn’t need to worry. We’ll cut them all down.”

“Damn right,” Thristle echoed, fist on the table. “We’ll show them what happens when they pick a fight with us.”

Throk grinned, shoulders squaring. “Twenty thousand or not… they won’t break us.”

Leona, sticky fingers high, shouted too: “Rawr!”

The hall erupted in laughter and warmth again, but the steel was there under it. Everyone knew the storm was coming.

And none of them would run.

—

The training ground was packed. Rows upon rows of goblins stood, armored, weapons in hand, banners snapping against the wind.

Among the sea of green, two stood close, fingers locked tight.

The male goblin was broad-shouldered for his kind, scarred cheek, hair tied back in a messy knot. His armor was dented but polished, his spear upright. His name was Garruk. Beside him, clutching his hand, was his wife—Tira, slender, hair braided with little charms of bone and beads. Her belly pressed faintly against the straps of her leather armor. Not obvious yet, but Garruk knew, and so did she.

Tira whispered, voice steady but soft. “When this war’s done, we’re moving up. Rank. Pay. The best for our child.”

Garruk squeezed her hand. “Aye. No way in hell I’m lettin’ our kid grow up scrapin’ scraps. This war’s bloody, but it’s our shot.”

They looked toward the front where the stage was being set. Torches flared, iron creaked as the platform was built up for Kragg himself.

Tira tilted her head, lowering her voice. “You heard the whispers? That beast tamer? The human?”

Garruk smirked. “Aye. Marrying Princess Lysandra. And they’ve already got an adopted daughter. A dragon girl.”

“Dragon,” Tira breathed, eyes wide. “Spirits. That’s… That’s somethin’.”

Before Garruk could answer, a figure stepped in front of them, blocking the torchlight.

The goblin woman was taller than most males, full armor clinging to her frame, crimson cloak over her shoulders. Her skin gleamed deep green under the torchlight, polished plate hugging her curves like it was made for her and her alone. Long, crimson hair spilled down her back, untamed, and her chest plate strained against her heavy breasts—round, full, pressing against steel like they wanted out. Her hips swayed with the weight of her stance, soft thighs visible between greaves and skirted armor. She looked like war and temptation stitched into one.

“Step,” she whispered, voice commanding, smoky. “The King comes.”

Tira and Garruk straightened instantly, fists to their chests.

The entire ground shifted, thousands stomping once, spears slamming in unison.

Kragg Grimclaw strode forward in full armor, helm under his arm. His presence rolled over the soldiers like thunder. He climbed the platform, raised his gauntleted fist, and the stomping stopped. Silence dropped heavy.

“My warriors.” His voice shook the ground. “The Chugh gather their armies. They bring ogres, they bring hobgoblin hordes, they bring their chains to shackle our people. They believe our land will fall.” His voice rose, sharp as steel. “They believe wrong!”

The soldiers roared, a wave of sound.

Kragg’s hand cut through the air, commanding silence again. His eyes narrowed. “But we are not alone. Today, you will know the name of the one who fights beside us. The one who tamed the untamable. The one who has already stood against our enemies and bled them. My son-in- law.”

He raised his arm toward the side. “Sir Aiden Nightshade.”

The soldiers stared as Aiden stepped forward. There was weight to the way he walked. Steady, unshaken. He came to Kragg’s side, and the sight of him made the crowd murmur. A human, standing beside their King.

Arisha’s breath caught. Her heart hammered in her chest, cheeks burning under her helm. *Spirits, he’s… tall. Broad. That jaw… those eyes…* She swallowed hard, thankful no one noticed her staring. *No. Stop. He’s princess’s future husband . He’s her’s…* Her chest tightened, traitor heartbeat refusing to settle. *He doesn’t even see me. Doesn’t matter. Just… fight, Arisha. Just fight.*

Aiden looked out at them. Hesitation flickered for a heartbeat—but only a heartbeat. He straightened, raised his voice, raw but clear.

“I’m not good with speeches,” he admitted, the honesty cutting through. “But I’ll tell you this. I didn’t come here to hide behind walls. I didn’t come here to watch your families get taken. I came here to fight. I’ll fight with you, bleed with you, and if it comes to it, die with you. But I won’t run. Not from ogres. Not from hobgoblins. Not from anyone.”

The soldiers answered with a roar, shields banging, voices rising.

Arisha bit her lip. *Spirits, he’s not even trying and…* She clenched her fists tight against her thighs, forcing herself to keep her face neutral. *Pull yourself together. General. Not girl. General.*

Throk’s voice boomed from the side. “He’s not alone! Meet those who stand with him.”

From the ranks, four figures walked forward.

First, Lysandra, pale and regal even in simple garb. Her chin was high, her eyes proud, her hand brushing against Aiden’s as she took her place beside him. Whispers rippled through the crowd.

“She’s serious?”

“She’s to marry him?”

“A human—our princess?”

Throk raised his hand. “Princess Lysandra stands here as his bride. Political or not, her loyalty is clear.”

Then came Thristle. The crowd shifted uneasily, goblins muttering.

“That’s… That’s a hobgoblin.”

“Why’s she here?”

The couple and dozens other goblins murmured who didn’t knew her.

Arisha cut a glare at the whispers. Her voice cut like steel. “She’s not just a hobgoblin. That’s Thristle—daughter of the Chugh King himself. But more than that, she’s Princess Lysandra’s childhood friend.”

The murmurs spiked, confusion and disbelief twisting the air.

Kragg’s voice boomed, silencing them. “Aye. She was born their Princess. But she’s turned her back on her father’s tyranny. She’s betrayed the Chugh. She has chosen us. Chosen this fight. And chosen Sir Aiden as her King.”

Thristle, grinning ear to ear, raised her hand high. “Damn right! I’m here, I’m fighting, and I’m not holding back! Let’s burn the bastards down!”

The crowd erupted, shouts and stomps echoing, half for her, half for the thrill of rebellion.

Luna bounded up next, ears perked, tail wagging. “Don’t forget me! I’m his too! His first!”

Fluffynugget waddled in her shadow, squeaking, “Mii!” and earning a ripple of laughter through the hard ranks.

The tension broke, but only for a breath.

Kragg raised his hand again, voice cutting through the noise. “This is our strength. Not just blood. Not just birth. Choice. Loyalty. Family.” He raised his blade, catching firelight. “And together, we will make the Chugh choke on their arrogance. Together, we will break their chains before they fall!”

The soldiers slammed their weapons down as one, voices rising in a single war cry that shook the very ground.

“For Grimclaw!”

The sound rolled like thunder.

Even Garruk and Tira screamed it, hands still locked, eyes blazing. Their child would not be born in chains.

And in the back, heart pounding, cheeks hot, General Arisha whispered under her breath—too quiet for anyone but herself.

For him.

—

END OF Chapter : 63 : I LOVE IT HERE!

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