Red Face stuck out his tongue and licked his lips.

After another long wait, just as Red Face was about to lose his patience, a rustling sound echoed from across the way. In the distance, a group of green goblins was approaching.

Red Face shouted as he kicked his sleeping subordinates awake, ordering them to fall in line.

Getting a clear look at their numbers put his mind at ease.

There were only eight goblins—not even enough to need all the fingers on two hands.

’In a minute, I’ll start with the taunts. I have to massively exaggerate our fighting strength.’

’I’ll say I have more men than can be counted on twenty fingers. And I’ll say I’ve won five challenge battles... no, I’ll add two more.’

’I’ll also say that I led my men to kill a giant wild boar and that we drove off a leopard.’

’Then I’ll mock them for being so few, saying they’re not even worth my time, and threaten to kill them all if they dare to resist.’

’That’s sure to crush their morale. Victory is guaranteed. And those four female goblins will be mine.’

Having made up his mind, he stepped forward and said smugly:

"I, leader of the Seven Cave Race."

"I have..."

"Get ’em!" a shorty on the other side roared, and his men immediately charged.

Red Face watched in utter shock as they charged, frozen to the spot.

"You don’t play by the rules!"

.......

Nine-finger frantically raised his wooden club to face his opponent.

The chief had slapped him twice at noon, and he desperately wanted to tell him that he had been right, that he really had gathered intelligence, and that he was his most loyal follower.

But unfortunately, Chief Red Face hadn’t believed him.

Moreover, when the other goblins were scrambling for food, they had deliberately targeted him, ganging up to drag him away and keep him from the large pot.

Even now, Nine-finger’s stomach was so empty he could feel the acid churning.

’Whatever,’ he thought. ’As long as I fight hard and knock these guys down, the chief is sure to see my contribution. Then I’ll definitely get to eat more meat from the pot.’

’The enemy doesn’t have many goblins. We’ll definitely win this challenge battle.’

When the enemy arrived, the chief had kicked him awake. He was still groggy, but not wanting to be a liability in battle, Nine-finger gave himself a hard slap across the face. After his face had been repeatedly attacked since the morning, the cumulative pain instantly snapped him to his senses.

Seeing the enemy charge, Nine-finger gripped his club and moved to intercept them.

With a few quick thuds, the two front lines collided.

"Don’t hit me, I’m from the Seven Cave Race," the one opposite him said.

Nine-finger was stunned. "You’re from our tribe?"

"That’s right. Let’s go fight someone else," the other goblin said, flashing a set of buck teeth.

Nine-finger looked at the red band tied around the fellow’s arm and felt uncertain. ’Is he really from our tribe?’ he wondered.

But the battle raging around him gave him no time to think. Someone hit him from behind.

Nine-finger spun around to retaliate, but the goblin said, "I’m with the Seven Cave Race! Go fight someone else!"

’Another one from our tribe?’ Nine-finger froze.

Then, a goblin swung a wooden club at him. This goblin didn’t have a red band.

The two traded a few blows, CRACK! THWACK! Suddenly, Nine-finger thought his opponent looked familiar. He asked, "Are you from the Seven Cave Race?"

The other goblin paused, then said, "I am."

And with that, he turned to attack a goblin standing nearby.

’Nine-finger’s brain couldn’t keep up. We’re all from the Seven Cave Race, so why did you attack me?’

He was promptly kicked to the ground. Lying there, he watched the chaotic brawl. Everyone was claiming to be from the Seven Cave Race; he couldn’t tell who was who.

Seeing several goblins charging toward the chief, his brain completely stalled.

’We’re all from the Seven Cave Race... why are you attacking the chief?’

’Could it be...’

’...that the chief isn’t from the Seven Cave Race?’

THUMP. Someone stepped on him.

.......

Shire stared at the enemy chief, who was now surrounded.

Red Face lived up to his name, his face flushed crimson with rage. He clutched a melon-like fruit in each hand, ready to throw them at a moment’s notice.

Shire had already planned out his strategy.

This time, Shire had his men eat their fill at noon, giving them a double portion of Red Bull. Then, he had Broken Tooth hide in the shadows to observe the enemy.

He only made his move with his men after the entire enemy group had lain down to sleep.

Goblins always take a nap after their midday meal. Shire had intentionally scheduled the battle for this time to catch the enemy while they were drowsy.

It was like trying to stop a dedicated napper from their midday rest—they’d either end up sluggish or incredibly irritable.

The next step was to fish in troubled waters.

Shire knew that with their pitiful memories, goblins couldn’t possibly remember the faces of everyone in their tribe.

Goblins were named according to their features. The one with red eyes was called Red Eyes; the one with white hair, Bai Mao. Since he had no hair and a head shaped like a large egg, he was called Green Egg.

Though he tried to correct them to call him Handsome Guy every time, the goblins could never remember.

The goblins in a tribe could only remember what their chief looked like and a few others they were close to. They had to guess at the rest.

So, in every challenge battle, whichever side was the first to flee toward the caves was considered the opposing tribe.

Shire had his men tie red bands around their arms and charge into the enemy’s ranks. In the heat of battle, they would shout, "I’m from the Seven Cave Race!" The enemy, completely bewildered, would have no time to think and would instinctively attack any goblin who wasn’t shouting the phrase.

The end result would be utter chaos.

He would then lead three other goblins to besiege the enemy chief, executing a decapitation strike.

The opposing Red Face threw a Bang-Bang Fruit. BANG! The fruit hit the Shield and instantly exploded. The hard husk and the seeds within flew everywhere like shrapnel.

Red Eyes, holding the Shield, was knocked back several steps by the blast.

’This effect is pretty impressive. It’s no weaker than a regular firecracker,’ Shire mused.