"Save the King!" a voice screamed at the top of its lungs, sword in hand. But this creature wasn't human, elf, or even orc—it was a goblin.
He stood in the middle of a battlefield with one arm missing, green blood spilling from his mouth.
The sky painted green from the amount of goblin blood it had absorbed.
This didn't look a battle, it looked like a massacre with the goblins barely holding their own.
He wasn't alone. The ground was littered with the bodies of goblins, each corpse left in a grotesque state. Yet these goblins had not been the savage, tribal kind. They wore armor, carried fine weaponry, and rode upon horses.
"PROTECT THE KING!" the goblins roared in unison, forming a defensive line. Their enemy stood before them—humans.
