Chapter 7: EX 7. Goblin Chief
Three goblins stumbled through the village paths, shrieking in terror, their breath ragged and limbs trembling.
Their minds replayed the massacre they had narrowly escaped—a blur of steel and blood, their kin cleaved apart by a single human. To them, Leon was no longer a man. He was a monster.
Ahead, the goblins reached the heart of the village, where thirty stronger warriors stood guard around a larger, more ornate tent—the Chieftain's dwelling.
Twenty E-rank goblins stood in formation, while ten D-ranks—larger and better armed—remained closer to the entrance.
Among them were the same hunter goblins who had returned earlier with the captured women.
As the three F-ranks approached, they screeched and pointed back wildly, their twisted tongue filled with panic.
One particularly large D-rank goblin growled, unimpressed by their fear.
In its eyes, they were cowards—useless even by goblin standards.
Then, the growling stopped.
Leon appeared at the edge of the gathering—his sword resting casually over his shoulder, stained crimson.
Blood dripped from the blade, a slow, deliberate rhythm that matched the pace of his boots crunching against the dirt.