The Goblin Raider Queen

At the rival grove’s edge, Rozah’s violet roots hammer deeper, cracking bark and wrenching open new soil. The ancient trees groan under the pressure, and the pale horn in the mud trembles like it can hear the forest drinking.

The roots answer before anyone else does, surging up Rozah’s arm and licking at her shoulder like hungry vines. The dark corruption that protects the tribe now crawls with a life of its own, reaching for more than ground.

Kraz stares at the torn grove, then at Rozah, relief hardening into alarm as the roots begin to split fresh trunks apart. Beyond the shattered boundary, the tribe’s future is clear, more land for treasure, shelter, and walls, if Rozah can keep the hunger from swallowing her first.

The violet glow climbs higher, and the corrupted roots press close around Rozah’s body, claiming her even as they claim the grove.

Rozah clamps her free hand around the pale horn, and the trembling note inside it shivers out through the roots. The violet hunger flinches, then turns inward, tightening around the grove instead of climbing her shoulder.

The corruption answers her grip. Roots tear free of one trunk and sink into the next, stripping bark, splitting heartwood, and dragging the grove toward a single, shuddering knot.

The pale horn’s vibration settles against Rozah’s palm. Around her, the roots stop reaching for her body and start gnawing through the rival grove itself.

By the last pulse, the shattered trees slump into a hollowed ring of splintered husks, and the violet glow hangs low over the wreckage, waiting on Rozah’s next command.