NOVEL NEXT Chapter 109: Interrogation...
"Trying to escape?" Ethan finished for him, walking closer. "Maybe alert some roaming clans? Or gather information to sell to a rival Sanctum?"
The goblin dropped to its knees. "Mercy, my lord, I swear I—"
Ethan sighed, stepping around the goblin. "I don't punish assumptions. I punish actions."
His sword gleamed into existence with a whisper of mana.
Kaeryx landed behind him, snarling low.
But then, Ethan stopped. The blade paused inches from the goblin's neck.
He looked down, the corners of his mouth tightening.
"You're afraid," he muttered. "Not of me. Of them."
The goblin's trembling worsened.
"I won't tolerate betrayal," Ethan said sharply. "But I understand fear."
His blade vanished in a flicker of mana. "You get one chance. Waste it, and Kaeryx will be the last thing you ever see."
The goblin collapsed into a panicked bow, gasping out thanks in broken Common.
Ethan turned away.
Control isn't just about fear. It's about knowing when to show restraint.
He walked toward the Sanctum center again, his pace steady, thoughts already shifting to the next steps.
They needed food stores. A patrol rotation. Scouts.
More than anything… they needed strength.
Because this silence wouldn't last.
Ethan stood beside the Sanctum rune stone, its glow pulsing faintly under his fingertips like the heartbeat of the territory now under his rule. Around him, the gathering was smaller than earlier—just a handful of the willing. Volunteers, survivors, and those with something left in them to give.
David stood at his side, arms crossed, a calm, thoughtful look etched across his face.
"Doesn't look like much," he muttered.
Ethan nodded. "Doesn't need to be. Not yet."
The crowd was mixed—humans, a few lean orcs, a lone minotaur with a massive iron collar still clamped around his neck, and surprisingly, even two goblins, smaller and less aggressive-looking than the others, who had stepped forward nervously but willingly.
Ethan's eyes swept across them. "I'm forming a scouting and patrol unit," he said, voice clear, carrying over the cracked courtyard. "Anyone with tracking skills, combat awareness, sharp eyes, or fast feet—I'll need you."
A ripple passed through the group. A few looked uncertain. But others… stepped forward.
A wiry woman with ash-streaked blonde hair, clutching a crude bow, nodded once. "Used to be a hunter in the Eastern Highlands. I can scout."
A young orc male, lanky and twitchy, raised a hand. "I—I'm fast. Real fast. I know the edges of the Sanctum better than most. I can run and report."
The minotaur said nothing, just gave a heavy grunt, then knelt before Ethan—wordless but willing.
Ethan exchanged a glance with David.
"We'll need a three-part rotation," David said. "Two-man scout teams and three-person patrols, split to cover morning, dusk, and night."
Ethan nodded. "Agreed. But not all of them will work well together."
He turned back to the group. "You'll be assigned based on ability. Not race. Not history. You work together—or you don't work at all. Understood?"
There were murmurs. But no objections.
"Good," Ethan said, turning to David. "Let's start."
They spent the next hour walking among the volunteers, listening, asking questions, watching body language and instincts. Ethan was sharp, reading hesitation in the way someone flinched, or the subtle pride in a straightened back. David brought structure—analyzing combat ability, range, and memory.
"You see that goblin girl?" David muttered, nodding toward a small green figure near the back.
Ethan arched a brow. "The one clinging to the bow like it'll save her life?"
"She's scared," David said. "But her form's perfect. I tested her draw earlier—silent, smooth. Could be good on stealth runs."
Ethan called her over.
She flinched, then slowly stepped forward. Ethan noticed the dried blood near her collarbone—the scar of a whip. A former slave. Yet here she was, standing before him.
"Name?"
She hesitated. "…Nix."
"You volunteered to scout?"
A shaky nod.
"Why?"
She paused, then looked him in the eye. "Because… I hate the other goblins. I want to be useful. And… because I don't want to be afraid anymore."
Ethan stared at her for a long moment, then finally gave a slow nod.
"You'll be paired with Mira," he said, motioning to the huntress from earlier. "You two are Team One. Dawn shift. Start with the northern perimeter."
Mira raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She simply walked over and offered Nix her hand. Nix stared, confused, then cautiously shook it.
David smirked. "You're full of surprises."
"Just reading people," Ethan said. "Same as always."
Next came the orc boy—Tarn, as he introduced himself—paired with a sharp-eyed human named Kel, who'd once been a caravan scout before his capture. They'd handle dusk runs.
The minotaur, silent and strong, would handle the inner patrol with two humans—one a former adventurer, the other a quiet farmer who knew how to spot traps and animal signs better than most. Night shift. Their strength would discourage any foolish ideas.
By the end of it, six teams had been formed—three patrols, three scout pairs. Ethan made sure to include one goblin in each group, not just as a gesture of control—but to test loyalty.
That night, under the flickering torches of the Sanctum courtyard, Ethan addressed the assembled teams one last time.
"From this point on, this Sanctum is not just a place you live—it's your responsibility," he said. "You watch its walls, its roads, its gates. You protect each other. And if anything threatens us… you report it."
He paused, letting the silence settle.
"This isn't about race or power. It's about survival. And I don't plan on losing."
Kaeryx landed behind him with a thud, glowing eyes sweeping the crowd. There were murmurs again, but no complaints.
As the patrols and scouts headed to their assigned posts, David leaned closer.
"You know, back at the academy, I used to think you were reckless," he said with a low chuckle.
"I was," Ethan replied. "Still am, sometimes."
"But now…" David shook his head. "You're something else."
Ethan didn't respond. He simply stared out beyond the walls, toward the swirling mist of the Great Labyrinth.
The game was changing.
And the board was his now.
***
In a room...
The room was dim and cold. The old cell beneath the sanctum had been carved crudely into the stone—walls damp, lined with cracked bricks and rusted chains. A faint musty odor lingered in the air.
The goblin warlock sat chained in the far corner, arms limp, eyes dulled yet wary. Dried blood still stained its robes from Kaeryx's earlier blow. But it was alive. That alone made it valuable.
Ethan stepped in quietly, the heavy door creaking behind him as it shut. The warlock tensed, but didn't move. Didn't speak.
Ethan stood silently for a moment, staring down at it.
"No guards," he said calmly. "No blades. No threats. I just want to talk."
The goblin scoffed and looked away. "You already won, human. Why pretend kindness?"
Ethan pulled over a stone block and sat down, folding his arms. "Because I'm not interested in wasting time breaking your bones just to get the wrong answers. I'd rather understand."
The warlock said nothing.
Ethan leaned forward slightly. "You've been leading these goblins for years. You know the layout of this area in the Labyrinth better than anyone here. I'm not asking about your past. Just what you've seen."
A flicker of uncertainty crossed the warlock's face.
"You want information?" it hissed, still defiant. "Use your whip. Or your dragon. Isn't that what you humans do?"
Ethan's voice remained steady. "Pain makes people say what you want to hear. But not what's true."
The goblin narrowed its eyes.
"I don't want lies. I want what you know. About this sanctum. About this region. About other sanctums."
Still, silence.
Ethan let out a slow breath. "You're not stupid. You must realize by now that I'm not like the others."
He didn't push further. Just sat there.
Time passed. The air hung still. Then the warlock spoke, its voice low, grudging.
"…You think you've won something just because you claimed a stone?"
Ethan said nothing.
The warlock chuckled bitterly. "The Great Labyrinth is vast. Endless. What you see is but a breath of mist, a single leaf in a forest. You think sanctums announce themselves with horns and banners? No. The wise ones stay hidden. They grow, quietly, silently. Until they're too strong to be ignored."
Its yellow eyes glimmer slightly in the dark.
"We only controlled this small territory. We hunted the beasts that wandered nearby. Once, we tried pushing further east… But we lost three hunting parties to something unseen. We never tried again."
Ethan's gaze sharpened. "Unseen?"
The goblin looked at him with a hollow smile. "Some sanctums hide in plain sight. Others… don't want to be found."
"Have you interacted with any others?" Ethan asked.
The warlock shook its head. "Only heard whispers. Smoke in the air that wasn't ours. Lights in the far cliffs that flickered too perfectly. Nothing direct."
Ethan leaned back, letting the words settle in.
"There are sanctums," the goblin said slowly, "with power far beyond ours. Places where humans rule. Or orcs. Or stranger things. But they do not talk. They do not trade. They prepare."