From Goblin Slave To Giga-Daddy: A Goblin's Guide to Getting a Harem-Chapter 51: Saying Good Byes!

"Are you sure about this?"

Emily asked softly, cradling the tiny bundle in her arms like it was the most precious gem in the world.

"I’ve got this weird pit in my stomach, mother. A gnawing itch, like something’s off. I can’t just sit here and knit baby socks while they’re out there dealing with God-knows-what. I have to go help them."

Alice replied, tugging her thick cloak tighter around her shoulders.

The weight of it felt nothing compared to the weight on her chest.

Her baby, thank the stars, was still peacefully sleeping, all snuggled up, with that little mouth making soft suckle motions in dreamland.

She was so, so glad for that.

Because if he had seen her leave, if he had stretched out those tiny arms toward her with that look, that why-mama look... she would’ve crumbled on the spot.

Alice was strong.

She’d fought demons, monsters, and a king or two.

But when it came to her baby, she was a damn puddle.

"I’ve pumped enough milk to feed an army of toddlers for a week. Added a couple layers of preservation magic too. He’ll be fine."

She had been on the edge about going.

When Alex had invited her for the forest venture, she had blinked at it like it was a prank.

The guy never asked her for help anymore.

Not since she hung up her nun outfit and officially became The Hero Who Swapped Swords for Swaddles.

He always respected that, especially now that she was a mother.

But something felt different this time.

Something sharp.

Something that pulled her gut tighter with every hour that passed since Rae and Alex had left camp.

Her heart was pounding for no reason, like a war drum was being banged right behind her ribs.

There had to be a reason.

Alex wasn’t the type to just tag her in for a walk in the woods.

No, this felt urgent.

Real. Dangerous.

And if even Celeste had sensed something, if she had flinched, then yeah... maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t just some cursed squirrel in the bushes.

Maybe this was big. Big enough that the six top heroes of the goddamn kingdom needed one more hand.

And not just any hand.

They needed a healer. A mother. A storm in boots.

They needed her.

Emily sighed like a woman surrendering to a storm she couldn’t stop.

There was no point trying to argue with Alice now.

Her eyes had that same old glint, the battle mode look.

Heart set, fists clenched, logic already packed away in her saddlebag.

And honestly, deep down, Emily felt a twinge of relief too.

Because if Alice was going... that meant someone damn competent was watching over her idiot son.

Alice wasn’t just any healer.

She was the kind that could patch up your soul with one hand while smacking sense into you with the other.

She’d mended kingdoms, literally.

So yeah, having her on this venture? A damn blessing.

"Alright, alright. Just... just take care of yourself and Alex, okay"

Emily’s voice cracked a little. She reached out and squeezed Alice’s hand gently, then added,

"And don’t forget that little gremlin either... Rae’s part of the family now, whether he likes it or not. Look after him too..."

Alice’s face flushed pink in an instant.

Not just a polite blush.

No, this was a full-on caught-red-handed-thinking-naughty-thoughts kind of blush.

’Wh-what’s he gonna say when he sees me...’

She pressed her thighs together, rubbing her inner leg like there was an itch in her bones.

Her mind wasn’t just wandering, it was doing backflips.

And thank the gods she had thrown on that thick travel cloak, because if Emily had seen what she was wearing underneath...

Let’s just say, family breakfast would’ve been real awkward.

She gave a firm nod, kissed her baby softly on the forehead, his tiny nose twitching like he knew she was going.

Then mounted the horse with the quiet resolve of a woman slipping back into an old, dangerous skin.

The cloak billowed around her, the reins tight in her hand. It was time. Time to pick up the mantle again.

Time to be the damn hero.

"Take care of yourself, Alice."

Emily waved, though her voice didn’t quite carry the usual thunder.

There was no snappy farewell, no signature energy burst from her fingertips.

Just a quiet, brittle kind of worry.

Her son was out there too.

"You too, mother."

Alice called back, then gave the reins a tug.

The horse took off, hooves beating the dirt like war drums.

Off she rode—to rejoin the heroes.

And oh, she was so right to come.

Because even as her horse galloped toward danger, the danger was already waking, stretching its limbs, licking its lips.

. . .

Elsewhere, in a grand, velvet-drenched room inside the kingdom’s palace, beneath chandeliers dripping gold and curtains that cost more than most villages, two men sat across from one another.

No food, no wine.

Just tension thick enough to slice with a dagger.

One man wore a grin that belonged in the villain’s Chapter of every fairytale.

The other? He looked like life had personally slapped him every morning since the last harvest.

Tired, slouched, his robes wrinkled, his eyes dull.

"You’re absolutely sure about this. You saw her. Alice. The little dove. Riding off... leaving her baby behind?"

The man who smiled like snakeskin was Maximus.

The king’s brother.

The would-be heir to the throne, assuming the king and his queen failed to make a royal brat in time.

Not that they weren’t trying, of course.

They were trying so hard, half the palace was running on love potions and fertility prayers. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

Across from Maximus sat an old man dressed in a priest’s robes.

Jonathan.

He looked like life had wrung him out and left him in the sun to dry.

His face was all sag and silence, and his fingers trembled slightly as he adjusted his collar.

He was also the unfortunate husband of that loud cow of a woman whose kid had flung a rock at Rae the other day.

What were they plotting now?