The Goblin King threw back his head and roared. "Come forth, my General! Come! Stand beside your king!"
From the far side of the ruined village, the ground trembled. Heavy footsteps echoed like drumbeats. The survivors hiding in the huts gasped in terror.
Then, emerging from the shadows, a towering figure appeared. Clad in battered armor, with jagged horns crowning its head and a massive axe gripped in one hand, the Goblin General stepped forward. His crimson eyes burned with battle-hunger as he took his place beside the broken king.
Nolan stopped and raised a brow. "So this is your trump card?" he said, his voice calm but sharp as steel. "Not bad. You've trained him well." His eyes narrowed, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Looks like I won't be killing him. He'll be useful when I start my city. He'll stand guard at my gates."
The Goblin King's jaw dropped. "What nonsense are you spouting?! He belongs to me! My General—strike him down now!"
