From Slave to King: My Rebate System Built Me a Kingdom With Beauties!

Night had already fallen when Borkle finally arrived back at the quieter edge of the settlement where Gribnox and the young hybrid child lived. The distant roar of the massive bonfire and the growing sounds of the breeding ritual couldn’t be heard from these parts despite the aggressive wind in the background, but this part of the camp remained relatively calm.

Borkle pushed aside the heavy flap of the large tent and stepped inside. Gribnox looked up from where he was tending to a small fire pit, clearly surprised to see him at this hour.

"Borkle?" Gribnox said, eyes widening. "You’re here so late. I didn’t expect anyone from the main camp tonight. Is everything alright?"

Borkle gave a tired nod, wiping sweat from his brow. "Byung sent me on an errand. I need to bring Grigmor back with me. But... I’ll be honest, the journey took longer than I thought."

This was because the horse he was on had stumbled and injured itself.

Gribnox stood up quickly, brushing dirt from his hands. "You must be hungry after running around all day. Sit down. I have some roasted meat and root stew left. It’s still warm."

Borkle hesitated for only a second before accepting. "Thank you, Gribnox. I shouldn’t... but I can’t return on an empty stomach. I’ll take whatever you have."

He sat down on a sturdy log near the fire. Gribnox handed him a carved wooden bowl filled with thick stew and a large chunk of roasted meat. Borkle dug in immediately, eating with surprising hunger.

They made small talk with Borkle informing him of Byung’s return.

This included him revealing he had gotten the gist of the situation from Murkfang.

As he ate, his eyes kept drifting toward the corner of the tent where Grigmor usually slept. The child had grown enormously since the last time Borkle had seen him. What was once a small, frail hybrid was now a sturdy boy who looked far older than his actual age.

"He is so... big!" Borkle commented between bites, genuine astonishment in his voice. "Look at him. That’s not normal goblin growth. He’s developing at the rate of an orc — maybe even faster."

Gribnox chuckled softly, though there was clear pride mixed with worry in his eyes. "I know. I’m surprised too. Every day he gets bigger and stronger. He eats like a full-grown warrior now. At this rate, he’ll be taller than me soon."

Borkle tore off another piece of meat and chewed thoughtfully. "It’s astonishing. Byung’s medicine really did something to him."

The two goblins ate in comfortable silence for a moment. Unlike the old days, Borkle no longer felt the need to address Gribnox as a superior. Their positions had equalized. They could speak like friends now, which made conversation much easier and more natural.

Gribnox leaned back and sighed with visible relief. "I’m just glad Byung returned safely. Thank you for bringing me this news... I feared the worst."

Borkle swallowed his food and nodded. "He’s more than safe. He’s stronger than ever. Actually, he’s hosting a ceremony tonight. A big one."

Gribnox raised an eyebrow. "A ceremony? What kind of ceremony?"

Borkle set the empty bowl down and wiped his mouth. "The breeding ritual. He’s gathered the strongest goblins and all the Stonehide females. Over a dozen orc women. He’s distributing his... special medicine to everyone. He wants to create an orgy and breed to increase our numbers."

Gribnox’s eyes widened in genuine shock. "Over a dozen? Tonight?" He let out a low whistle. "That’s... ambitious. Even for Byung."

Borkle grinned slightly. "I wish I could see it. The bonfire looks like it would be huge, and the energy is already building."

The two shared a quiet laugh. Borkle then leaned forward, his tone turning more casual. "Be honest with me, Gribnox. Do you wish you were there? We both know how much you love sex."

Gribnox chuckled deeply, shaking his head. "Fuck yes! Of course I do," he confessed without shame. "The thought of all those strong orc females... it’s tempting. Very tempting."

Borkle laughed. "I figured as much. But don’t worry. Once I return, I can easily find a female orc for myself. There’s more than enough for tonight."

Their conversation shifted as Gribnox’s expression grew more serious. He lowered his voice. "Do you know what Byung wants with Grigmor? I can’t hide it... I’m worried. He’s my son, but technically... he wouldn’t even exist without Byung’s medicine. He belongs to Byung in a way. What if Byung wants to experiment on him?"

Borkle placed a reassuring hand on Gribnox’s shoulder. "Relax, my friend. Byung has no ill intentions. I don’t think Byung means him any harm. He probably just wants to observe how he is doing."

Gribnox still looked uneasy. "And what if it affects him negatively later? What if—"

Before he could finish, the flap of the tent was pushed aside forcefully.

Grigmor walked in, his young but already imposing frame filling the entrance. His eyes burned with intensity as he glared at his father.

"Do not dare address him as Byung!" Grigmor snapped, his voice surprisingly deep and commanding for his age. "He is the King!"

Both Borkle and Gribnox froze, taken completely by surprise. There was something off about Grigmor — an almost fanatical loyalty shining in his eyes. The fury on his face was genuine and intense.

Gribnox recovered first and laughed awkwardly, raising his hands in surrender. "Easy, son. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. I meant no disrespect to the King."

Grigmor stared at his father for a long moment, judging whether the apology was sincere. Finally, he gave a single sharp nod, his expression softening only slightly.

"Good. It won’t happen again."

He then turned his gaze to Borkle, his posture straight and proud. "You were sent by the King, yes? Then take me to him. I am ready."

Borkle stood up quickly, slightly unsettled by the boy’s intensity. "Of course, Grigmor. The King is waiting. We should go now. The ceremony has already begun."

Grigmor didn’t wait for further words. He turned and stepped outside the tent, clearly expecting Borkle to follow.

Gribnox watched them leave with a troubled expression. "Be careful with him, Borkle," he called out quietly.

Borkle gave one last nod to Gribnox before hurrying after the hybrid child, who was already marching confidently toward the injured horse.

The night air felt heavier as they walked. Borkle couldn’t shake the feeling that Grigmor was changing faster than any of them had expected — and that his loyalty to Byung ran far deeper than just loyalty.

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