Chapter 142
Kane's POV
The overseer's roar echoed through the mine pit, his whip gleaming coldly in the torchlight.
I held my breath, feeling Dorothy's body trembling with fear behind me. Frank had frozen in place, a flicker of despair crossing his clouded eyes.
"Come out!" the overseer strode toward the rock wall where we hid, his companion close behind. "Damn it, I knew there were rats hiding here."
I quickly assessed the situation. Two Blood River soldiers, well-built, daggers at their waists. At least thirty goblin miners in the pit had stopped their work, staring numbly in our direction.
If we fought here, it would likely trigger greater chaos, but if we were caught, all three of us would die.
The overseer had already closed to within ten meters of us, torchlight flooding into our hiding place. I felt Dorothy grip my arm tightly, her nails nearly digging into my skin.
"Don't be afraid," I said quietly, slowly rising to my feet and placing myself between her and Frank.
The overseer froze for a moment when he saw me, then greed flashed in his eyes. "Hey, look what we have here." He sized me up. "That build, those muscles—born to be a laborer."
"And a little lady." The other overseer moved closer, his gaze roaming shamelessly over Dorothy. He licked his lips, revealing yellowed teeth. "Young and fresh, perfect entertainment for us brothers."
Dorothy shrank behind me in terror while Frank tried to shield her with his aged body.
I felt something churning inside me—a long-dormant killing intent, cold and pure.
"Boy, be smart and come with us quietly." The overseer cracked his whip. "Lord Draven needs manpower, and with your build, you're worth three goblins. As for this little thing—" He reached toward Dorothy with a lecherous grin.
The instant his fingers were about to touch Dorothy, I moved.
I didn't shift. I didn't summon Blaze's power.
This was purely my own killing technique, the instinct honed through countless days and nights in the Blood River arena with blood and pain.
I sidestepped the whip's swing, my feet sliding forward in a smooth advance. Before the overseer could react, my hand had closed around his throat. The sound of bone crunching was crisp and brief; his eyes widened instantly, and his body crumpled.
The second overseer reacted too slowly—his hand had just touched the knife hilt when my heavy kick slammed into his chest. I heard ribs crack as he flew backward, hitting the mine wall hard and sliding down lifeless.
The entire sequence took less than three seconds.
The previously noisy hammering in the mine pit vanished instantly. Dozens of goblin miners stopped their work, staring blankly at the scene. They had never witnessed such clean, efficient killing, especially from an un-shifted wolf.
I stood beside the two corpses, feeling that long-dormant power surging within me. This wasn't Blaze's wildness—this was something entirely mine, the Kane who had learned to survive in the Blood River hell.
The pressure of a superior naturally radiated from me, and the air in the entire mine pit seemed to freeze.
"Kane—" Dorothy's voice trembled.
I turned to see her pale face showing both fear and a trace of relief. Frank looked at me with a complex expression—shock mixed with a hint of satisfaction.
Just then, a slightly larger goblin emerged from the shadows. His skin showed an unhealthy gray-green hue, his expression sinister, his entire body shaking.
"You—you killed them!" The goblin foreman Grim pointed at the bodies on the ground, his voice hysterical. "Lord Draven will kill all of us! You damn mad wolf!"
I looked at him calmly. "I can get you out of here."
"Leave?" Grim let out a shrill laugh. "You think we'd trust a wolf? All wolves are the same! Slavers! Oppressors!"
His words stirred unrest among the other goblins. Some began whispering, their eyes shifting between me and the corpses. I could feel their fear—not fear of me, but fear of Draven's retribution.
"Your killing will only bring more brutal slaughter," Grim continued. "Draven will kill us all, along with our families!"
"So what do you want to do?" I asked.
"Tie them up!" Grim suddenly shouted. "We turn these intruders over to Lord Draven—maybe we can redeem ourselves!"
Several goblins hesitantly raised their pickaxes. Dorothy clutched my arm in terror, and Frank retreated behind me. I didn't move, just quietly watched Grim.
"Do you really think turning us over will buy your safety?" My voice was soft, yet it cut off Grim's shouting.
I walked toward him step by step, ignoring the goblins raising their pickaxes around me.
Grim involuntarily backed away until his back hit the mine wall with nowhere to go. I leaned down, looking directly into his eyes.
"If you want to live, tell me what's happening here."
Grim's throat bobbed, the frenzy in his eyes gradually replaced by fear.
He opened his mouth but no sound came out.
"Draven's been mining Thunderstones here," he finally forced out the first sentence. "For three months now. They captured our entire tribe—people die in the mines every day."
"Why mine Thunderstones in such quantity?"
"I don't know," Grim shook his head. "But I've heard the overseers say these stones are being sent to the Blood River Pack's main camp."
My heart sank. Thunderstones could amplify elemental magic power. If Louis was stockpiling this ore in large quantities, he must be planning something.
"Anything else?"