In a clearing inside a forest that surrounded one of the few settlements scattered around the frontier's domain, the sound of two clashing swords echoed. Two warriors faced each other, a young-looking fellow and an older looking lass. Despite their equal height and physique, the female warrior's footwork and movements were clearly more intricate.

Clang! Their blades collided; the force of the collision rang through their arms. Chips broke off their blades but neither of them cared. The fight continued until the younger warrior halted, catching his breath. After a few deep inhales, he found his bearings again and positioned his damaged sword back in front of him.

The female warrior didn't return this gesture. Instead, she lowered her sword and sighed deeply, wiping off the sweat off her forehead. “Don’t bother. You were really sloppy today. It’s clear your mind is elsewhere.”

Volker tightened his grip on his blade. “How was I sloppy?”

Shaking her head, with a frown plastered on her face, Rapha explained. “You kept falling to some obvious feints and you waited till the last second before blocking my attacks, and don’t even get me started on your parrying. I think we should end it for today.”

“Rapha, you don’t have to stop because I got distracted. It’s not like you’ve been coming at me with all you have, either.”

Instead of responding, Rapha loosened her shoulders, re-sheathed her sword, and turned away from Volker.

As Volker opened his mouth to ask Rapha to continue, she turned and met his gaze.

“Yeah, I wasn’t,” she conceded. “But let’s call it here. The farmers need our help.” She started on her way back to her tent, but spared Volker a few more words before leaving. “Remember what Lev said.”

Volker massaged his forehead and groaned. He knew all too well that Rapha was just as concerned about the city’s recent political volatility as he was. He lowered his sword and went to change his outfit.

Lev had tasked the two of them with establishing a new farming settlement along the southern perimeter of the frontier, but none of the bogeys around them knew a thing about growing crops.

Despite Lev’s efforts, progress was slow. Although he’d shown the settlement crews how to rotate and set up perimeters around their fields to protect them from wildlife, none of the greyborn had lived above the surface before, and had no relevant previous farming knowledge. The farming process for mushrooms and underground flora was completely different from what they were doing now.

Feeling the sun’s warmth and smelling the fresh air put a smile on Volker’s lips almost as much as seeing the young settlement and the open fields did. The days of scavenging for food to scrape by would soon be gone. This settlement, among others, would provide sustenance for their newly founded nation.

Though Volker worried that something might try to destroy what they built and more.

Volker knew that they were far away from the cavern. After all, he’d endured the settlement crew’s incessant complaining. During their trek, they had passed through an old overgrown path extending deep into the woods. After having set up camp for the night, Volker and Rapha had overheard some of the settlers' conversations.

During lunch, both of them were frequently seated near the newest batch of settlers. The settlers spoke of people hearing clicking sounds coming out of the forest and finding clawed footprints on the ground.

Volker feared the possibility of there being a tunnel leading to the cavern in one of the mountains surrounding the forest, one crawling with the damned bugs.

Shaking his head, Volker went to his tent to put on his work attire. He had to help plough the fields together with Rapha and a few other goblinoids. After changing his clothes and storing away his gear, Volker met Rapha outside whilst showing a calm smile.

Rapha shook her head. Volker wasn’t fooling anyone.

“So you wanted to talk to me about Lev, right?” Rapha asked as she grabbed a plough from one of the storage rooms.

Volker struck his plough to the ground. “It would be better for us if we focused on the fields first. You know we don't have horses, neither are there dekas here to help us with heavy tools—”

Rapha turned up the soil with her plough. “No, it's fine. I know worrying endlessly about Lev won't do us any good this far away, but it won't hurt if we talk about it now and then.”

Volker had to agree with her. Although Lev and Vyrga had joined forces to fend off the hiveling and Jiira forces, without a common enemy, the two were at loggerheads once more.

It wasn't like Vyrga was going to kill Lev or anything. Influence had been Vyrga's number one goal ever since he created his gang but he’d be a fool if he got rid of Lev and broke the status quo as that would tear everything apart.

Under fair elections, the greyborn faction had elected both Lev and Vyrga as candidates for the frontier’s seat of High Chief, and nothing was going to change that. Having an equal amount of votes created a complicated scenario. It was a mishap—both of them ended up getting elected.

In their hearts, Rapha and Volker were sure that Lev would outlast Vyrga’s term, and return even stronger. If Lev were to come out victorious, the city would surely prosper. And besides, why shouldn't Lev become the first High-Chief of the Frontier? Lev was the one who had come up with the electoral system that would, hopefully, resolve the power vacuum between the various goblinoid factions.

Rapha wiped the sweat from her brow. “Well, the elections turned out to be a bad idea. After all the great deeds he did, Lev should’ve won. How in the world did Vyrga match Lev’s votes?”

Volker shook his head. “Honestly, it’s a wonder Lev managed to secure this many votes. Few people like Lev’s policies, especially about giving the Jiira captives the chance to become citizens. Even I had mixed feelings about that.”

Rapha tilted her head. “I thought you were getting along well with Raban.”

Volker shrugged. “That’s one reason I changed my mind. But I’m not sure that everyone has. Besides, not all Jiira are as reasonable as Raban.”

“So Lev has a lot on his plate, but I’m sure he’ll work something out. He hasn’t failed us so far,” Rapha said with a smile.

Volker smiled back. “He will, no doubt about that.”

***

“How could this happen?” Lev muttered. He was sitting by himself in his new house, subconsciously tapping the table as he contemplated what had just transpired.

During the elections, Lev’s victory should’ve been secured. The council still hadn’t gathered to cast their votes. They were still deciding this nation’s first leader.

During an earlier attempt, it ended in a tie with Vyrga and had almost caused a riot among the two’s followers. The council was forced to repeat the elections. After all, there could only be one high chief.

At the elections, Rak yawned from the boring atmosphere; there was no form of entertainment. He left his seat and moved to Lev.

“You don’t think they’d screw us over, right?” Rak asked Lev as the latter was waiting for everyone to finish their discussion and cast their vote. Because of time restrictions, a lack of literacy, and the immediate need for a leader, the first election term would be decided orally through a simple majority vote.

“You worry too much. I’ve already… persuaded a few representatives to make sure that they choose the right candidate,” Lev replied.

With wide-open eyes, Rak stared at Lev with his mouth agape.

“Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t cheat. I haven’t fallen so low to rely on such desperate methods,” Lev uttered with a huff.

“Oh, really?” Rak inquired. Though everyone agreed, Lev was the one who had made the voting system, so Rak suspected he had made some loopholes to win the election.

“Yes, definitely. I won’t need petty tricks to win this,” Lev replied, his tapping briefly intensified.

Before Rak could open his mouth, a bell rang. It was time to vote.

An old blue bogey named Meinrad stood on the pedestal in the centre of the grand hall that encompassed most of the council’s building. The light reflecting on the pedestal from above made Meinrad look quite regal.

Lev’s eyes lit up. The building itself was nothing as short of a miracle. It’d been a decently preserved construction before they arrived. Its location and size were just perfect for the factions’ purpose.

It was near the city’s centre and wasn’t as damaged as the ones surrounding it. It’d taken a bit of patchwork to fix some aspects, but in the end, it surely was the pinnacle of the frontier.

Meinrad cast a deep gaze towards all the fifty seats, and once he saw everyone was present, his lips briefly curved upwards before clearing his throat.

At each chair sat a representative of a goblinoid faction that had followed in the exodus to the frontier. Bogeys, goblins, deka, and a few other noteworthy races had united for the first time in centuries.

Even so, nothing was perfect since resentment between the races was still lingering in the air. The representatives of the goblin faction had been members of a subgroup within the Jiira. The goblin faction didn’t partake in the Jiira’s conquests, but they’d been a part of them. That detail was enough to create resentment against the goblin faction.

Behind each representative’s chair stood their faction’s flag. A collection of sharp colours dotted the background of the hall. The bogey’s faction had the simplest flag, a solid black with a white circle and a dot within, representing the mountain range and the frontier.

“We’ve gathered here today to achieve an important milestone in the building of our great nation. Ten months ago, we broke the chains that bound our kin for decades, if not centuries, and performed a massive exodus which led us to our new home; a city dating from the golden age of Ainshart.”

Some representatives smiled, reflecting on Ainshart’s accomplishments of old. Some of them even felt like Ainshart for a moment. Uniting the goblinoids was surely one of the many feats Ainshart had accomplished. Others, however, turned their heads to their feet. The legend of Ainshart wasn’t as strongly favoured by each faction. Some considered him a false God. Others considered him Jiira propaganda, but many still found inspiration from his mythical legacy.

In the end, most of the representatives nodded. All of them had finally found a shred of salvation here, as expected of Ainshart’s legacy.

Meinrad cleared his throat once again. “Though we have established ourselves in these unknown lands and rebuilt most parts of this mighty city, we still lack two important aspects of any proper society.“

Meinrad paused for a moment, trying to find the right words as not to upset some factions.

“A proper system of governance and a wise leader,” he finally said. To his surprise, the representatives kept their attentive silence and waited for him to continue. Meinrad had expected some to protest; some factions preferred the current system of governance, one without a centralized high chief commanding a batch of lower chiefs. It felt wrong to them. It felt like their previous hierarchy. In their eyes, there was no place for a new form of noble-imposed power. They had either suppressed their feelings or made peace with the new system of governance.

“We made progress in the former, and from its result, we are now voting for the latter. We have four great candidates who thought themselves worthy of leading us, and it is up to us to choose who among them is the fittest for the task.”

Meinrad interrupted his speech yet again, fixating on everyone present in the room. After a moment, he raised two fingers and continued. “Before any of you make foolish decisions, let me remind you of two things.”

Meinrad produced a rolled-up piece of parchment from under the pedestal and read it aloud. “First, I should remind everyone capable of voting today that they had been deemed worthy by a group of people who find you reliable enough to represent them and their interests. It is essential to keep reminding yourselves that whatever choice you make isn’t yours alone.”

He lowered the parchment and planted his feet firmly on the pedestal.

“You represent the will of the people, not just your own.”

He focused his eyes again on the parchment and continued down the list of bullet points.

“Second, remember that not only will this decision or any decision have grave consequences if executed poorly, you’ll also have to deal with the citizens’ rage. If you rule without thinking ahead, their representatives’ votes will make sure you’ll regret it.” The old bogey growled and lightning sparked from the amulet in his hand.

This caused the representatives to grin. Except for two. A greyborn seated in one of the two chairs assigned to the greyborn faction; it was Lev, and next to him, Vyrga.

While Meinrad continued his speech, Vyrga glanced at Lev and spoke. “You don’t seem calm.”

Lev pointed at the faint scratch marks on Vyrga’s chair. “I could say the same for you.”

“Well, last time it could have erupted into a fight between our men. It took the both of us a lot of effort to calm them down and make sure we didn’t get banned.”

Lev chuckled. “We avoided a fiasco. Imagine if we didn’t.”

“Then everything you worked for would have been for naught. Especially the part where you become the High Chief. Unless—”

“What do you mean?” Lev asked, subconsciously raising one of his eyebrows.

Vyrga turned his gaze back towards the old blue bogey. “Nothing, you’ll see.”

Lev also looked towards Meinrad, who took a swig from his wineskin before wiping his beard with a cloth.

Meinrad continued. “Now that you all understand what’s at stake, it’s time to cast your votes. Let’s begin with our first contender, Gerwyn.”

A middle-aged blue bogey rose from his seat and nodded towards Meinrad.

“Son of one of the oldest families among the blue bogeys. His accomplishments in magic along with his skills fended off several hivelings on our way to our new home. Who here follows him?”

Six members raised their hands, almost causing Lev to smirk when he noticed four of them were also blue bogeys.

From a far away seat, Rak couldn’t help but laugh.

“He’s having fun,” Vyrga commented.

“Not anymore,” Lev added as Rak started an argument with Gerwyn before the latter sat down.

Lev shook his head. Looks like he’s really full of himself. He’s not even half as good as Orva in magic.

“Six voted and thirty-four remain. Now it’s time for the second candidate. Hiltrude.”

A yellow bogey rose from her seat and smirked. Lev caught the sign of a few yellow, brown, and green bogeys exchanging looks before they raised their hand.

“I haven’t even listed her accomplishments!” Meinrad hissed, which made them lower their hands and avert their gaze.

With a few grumbles under his breath, Meinrad turned to Hiltrude. “Without Hiltrude, the journey here would have been harsher and more of our brethren would have died. Using her charisma and reputation, she ordered the craftsmen and builders to build our carriages in the nick of time, and with her help we secured the supplies for such a journey and organized the convoy. She also played a helping hand in defending the convoys and in keeping them moving at an even pace.”

After finishing his speech and seeing how Hiltrude’s followers were fidgeting in their place, Meinrad sighed and muttered under a few unheard curses before allowing them to vote.

“The neutrals are at work again. These elections of yours are a joke,” Vyrga mumbled.

Lev shrugged. “Well, as you can see, they have established factions.”

“So it seems. You have Gerwyn and his small lot of fools who still don’t accept that things have changed. We have Hiltrude and her band of cowering weasels and then there’s us who’ll likely have one of us take lead as High Chief. But who will it be?” Vyrga asked with a gleeful look in his eyes.

Seeing that, Lev felt a discomfort inside his chest. Calm down, he’s just trying to get to me. I’ve already taken all the precautions necessary. I’ll win this.

Lev then noticed ten bogeys raised their hands and Hiltrude sat down.

“Well, that was unorthodox,” Meinrad grumbled before turning to Vyrga. A scowl smeared the old bogey’s face.

“And now for the third candidate. Despite his dubious past, he played an important role in fending off the Jiira and the hivelings. But that’s not all! He and his men also helped with maintaining order and rebuilding the city. Who here chooses the greyborn Vyrga,” Meinrad asked.

Fourteen bogeys raised their hands. The majority were greyborn, but there were also two blue bogeys, five green bogeys, and a burga.

Vyrga’s eyes twitched. There should have been two more bogeys following him. He directed his gaze towards them and found them lowering their heads in shame.

“Well played, Lev. Well played,” he whispered, his tone laced with ire.

Lev grinned. If he included those who followed him and those he persuaded, their numbers reached at least eighteen votes. Even if two or three had double crossed him, he had made sure that his offer would entice the rest, especially the goblins and dargs, to follow him.

When Meinrad turned finally towards him, Lev smiled and stood up.

The old blue bogey cast his eyes on all those who hadn’t voted yet and spoke. “It’s time for our last candidate. I don’t think I need to say much about Lev and his accomplishments, but it is mandatory. If Vyrga played a major role in the battle against the Jiira, it was Lev who led the charge. As if he was the champion of Zeja and the reincarnation of Ainshart, he crushed the foes who shackled us and invaded our borders, causing the damn gob—”

Meinrad quickly changed his wording—“the enemy to run away with their tails between their legs. When the hivelings broke through our defenses and gushed through the first floor, he rallied his men and led us to our new home.”

“You paid him well, haven’t you? Looks like you’ve already won,” Vyrga growled with a grimace plastered on his face.

“If his combat prowess wasn’t enough, he became one of the main pillars that hold our fledgling society together, and with his knowledge he helped us overcome multiple hurdles. He reached a height no one would’ve thought possible, especially for a greyborn. I could continue on, but we shouldn’t take longer than necessary. Who will vote for Lev to become our new High Chief?”

After Meinrad had finished his speech, hands filled the air. Everyone slowly counted the number as tension filled the room.

They were thirteen. Seven greyborns, two green and one yellow bogey, a blue bogey, a deka, a darg, and a goblin. Almost all of those who’d supposedly voted for him averted their gaze while some mockingly stared at him.

Almost everyone paused and peered intently at Lev, including Vyrga. The only ones who weren’t were the two other candidates, Gerwyn and Hiltrude, but even they were slightly surprised.

After everyone got out of their stupor, cries of outrage and insults broke out among Lev’s followers and Vyrga’s.

One of Vyrga’s men even threw a clay flask out of indignation, causing the other side to throw nearby items.

Some members threw fruit, some flasks, cups, and plates, some even vases and furniture.

They knocked Gerwyn to the ground as a cup hit him on the head while Hiltrude immediately hid behind a column, narrowly avoiding a flying chair.

After both leaders responded late to their followers’ actions and he almost got himself hit by a plate, Meinrad had seen enough.

“Silence! Guards! Guards!” Meinrad yelled. The quarrel ended as soon as the sound of soldiers guarding the area flooded into the court and unceremoniously pinned down the more aggressive members, including Rak, who was about to throw his chair at Ludger. After the soldiers had restrained the rowdy crowd, healers arrived and started treating those who were injured.

Once the situation had calmed down, Meinrad glared at everyone. “If this is how we’ll handle such occasions; like a bunch of animals, we’re all doomed! Don’t you get it? Thanks to the hivelings, every one of you fools and the fools who chose your sorry asses has nowhere else to go. Do you really want to plunge our new home into some sort of civil war!?”

Everyone was left speechless.

Both Lev and Vyrga exchanged glances and silently nodded.

Lev stood up and performed a slight bow to Meinrad. “You are correct, we should handle this like adults and our actions weren’t befitting of leaders. I apologize for the actions of those who voted for me and acted in such a way.”

Vyrga also stood up. “I also apologize for the actions of my followers. Just as Meinrad said, we should be better than this and strive to better our society instead of fighting among ourselves.”

Lev then raised his hand, and Vyrga shook it. With a look from their leaders, some members started clapping despite the awkward and still tense mood.

What a farce. I fear for the nation where its people are easily swayed by their leaders and their vendettas, Meinrad thought as he dismissively shook his head. Despite all this, we need to make do with this farce and try to get along if we ever want to succeed.

“Are you both ready? Vyrga, are you ready for your inauguration? And Lev, do you accept the outcome?”

Lev’s eyes glinted. “I will. For the sake of bogeykind and all goblinoids.”

“And I’m ready to accept the role of High Chief,” Vyrga responded.

Meinrad displayed a shallow smile. “Perfect. The ceremony is in a week.” He then returned to the pedestal and addressed everyone. “This concludes the first elections of the frontier, and hopefully the next one will be more civil. Now everyone, get out.”

Later that day, it was announced to the public that Vyrga had won the elections, which caused some confusion and a few violent outbursts from those who he’d harmed in the past, but everything was eventually handled relatively calmly thanks to Lev’s cooperation. The following week passed by quickly. Vyrga became High Chief while Lev attained the position of chief of infrastructure and trade.

Now, Lev was sitting in his office, talking to himself and Gherm whom he had sealed at the time of the elections.

“I shouldn’t have only focused on Vyrga.”

After all, you two weren’t the only candidates. Out of everyone, I expected you to be the most cautious and not to underestimate anyone, Gherm admonished.

“You really know how to make my day even better, don’t you Gherm?”

Try not sealing me away and ignoring me, then I’ll care about how you feel. I’m not some tool you can throw away, Lev. Nobody is.

Lev sighed. “I know. But I had to focus on the elections and you nudging on my mind doesn’t help.”

Maybe if you followed my nudging, those two other candidates and their followers wouldn’t have targeted you as much. I told you to avoid doing costly endeavours. I’m sure they’re the reason some members followed their advice and abstain from voting, Gherm reprimanded. Lev’s brows knitted. A part of him had to agree with Gherm.

“How should I have known that it’s impossible to make gunpowder? I followed the process to the letter, yet nothing happened!”

There were previous records by Ainshart and the inventors and alchemists under him. Other than that, remember that our world differs from yours, though our worlds are similar enough that the process should’ve worked, it didn’t.

“Instead, we wasted precious time and resources for nothing. Our only saving grace is that not all my projects failed.”

True. So what’ll we do now?

Hearing Gherm’s inquiry, Lev smiled. He got up from his chair and went towards a closet. “Though I’m not High Chief, I’m still in an elected position, right?”

Yeah? Gherm replied, apprehensive.

As he searched in the closet, Lev continued. “I thought of eliminating the competition, but honestly, that’s a stupid idea that will deprive us of capable personnel and turn the people against me. So I came up with a better idea.”

Thank goodness you did. What is it?

Lev got a large rolled-up piece of parchment, a scroll, and placed it down on the table. “I just need to assure my victory in the next term and that can be done easily.”

He unfurled the scroll, displaying a recently made map with all the information his men could gather about the region and the information that Orva and those who knew the archaic language got from the remains of the old library.

Lev pointed to the north-east and said with a grin. “I just need to do my job; improve the city and handle trade.”