“What are you doing here?”

Upon Thorian's query, the moon kobold stuttered, eyes wide with alarm. "King?"

At the utterance of this title, a wave of kobolds and kobloids surged from the forest. However, the sight of Thorian's band and the pack of direwolves halted them abruptly.

Thorian recognized many familiar faces among the kobolds: Bellafor, Crimen, and Caedar. The presence of these figures from his tribe only added to his growing bewilderment.

"What in the world are they doing here?" Ventus chimed in from Thorian's left, perched regally atop his own direwolf.

Meanwhile, Vigil maintained his silence. The atmosphere told him something was gravely amiss.

Thorian's expression shifted from shock to an intense fury. He wrestled to keep his burgeoning rage under control.

"Who are these beings?" Harald inquired telepathically, prepared to leap into action at any sign of danger. "Are they foes?"

After a moment's hesitation, Thorian answered, "No... They are my people."

He then dismounted from Harald's back and strode toward the large group of kobolds and kobloids with a heavy determination. As his gaze swept over them, he recognized more and more familiar faces, many of them non-combatants.

"King! King!" Caedar, tears streaming down his face, ran toward Thorian and fell to his knees. "We're glad to have found you."

Now even more disoriented by the unfolding events, Thorian surveyed the scene before demanding in a low, authoritative voice, “Can someone explain to me what in the seven hells is going on here?”

A tense silence ensued. It was broken when Forlune stumbled forward, falling to one knee. “It was my fault! I was the one responsible! The humans - there was a sea of them! I ordered an escape because I didn’t believe we could win.”

Humans? How does that even make sense?

"Are your warriors so frail?" Harald posed telepathically. "How could mere humans overrun them, regardless of their numbers?"

“I intend to understand that right now,” Thorian declared. He scanned the assembled crowd until his gaze settled on Aqua, the water magus, who managed to maintain a composed demeanor amidst the chaos. “Aqua, tell me exactly what happened.”

The blue kobold nodded somberly. “We were guarding the wall when we heard a stampede from the forest. We thought it was just monsters at first, but they were human. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of them. They hurled all manners of spells at us, and the wall was breached from the countless fireballs thrown at it.”

Thousands? Are they William’s men? But how do all of them have classes? As Thorian's eyebrows drew together in deep thought, the image of an elderly man and a young child flickered into his mind, triggering another surge of fury to sweep across his features. I should have killed them.

Simultaneously, Aqua was expanding on his account, leaving the rest of the kobolds hanging on his every word, their breaths shallow. "No matter how many humans we killed, they continued to pour in. The village was engulfed in flames, hindering our movements. The magi continuously bombarded us with their spells, overpowering us through sheer number."

Thorian took a moment to inhale deeply, steadying his turbulent emotions. Casting his gaze over the crowd, he realized that while there was a considerable number of kobolds present, a significant portion of the second platoon was still notably absent.

"Where are Zogthar and the orcs?" Thorian inquired as he felt his heart clenching. "Many kobolds and kobloids are absent too. Where are Inly and Ifrit?"

“We split up,” Forlune explained. “I talked with Zogthar and it became clear it was better to split up, so that they can’t catch us. Ifrit, Inly, and many of the kobolds and kobloids ran with him.”

“This seems like a giant mess,” Harald remarked. “Should we go and clean up your place of those roaches?”

“We will,” Thorian affirmed with a nod. “But there are some things we need to prepare first.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

"Forlune," Thorian addressed the moon kobold. "I want you to select a few warriors and make your way to the dungeon. Lead the first platoon and meet up with us a few hundred meters east of the gate. You should be able to track us by our scent."

"Right away, my king," Forlune agreed, eager to demonstrate his worth. He assembled a group of kobolds and set off towards the dungeon.

Thorian then turned to the water magus. "Aqua, I need you to take a few troops with you and locate Zogthar and his men. Rejoin us as soon as you find them."

"Consider it done, my king," Aqua responded, giving a curt nod before springing into action.

As Aqua was assembling his team and preparing to pursue Zogthar, one of the assassins under the shadowstalker's command stepped forward.

“King, I’m sorry for interrupting you,” he stammered, a conflicted expression etched on his face.

"Speak," Thorian commanded succinctly.

"Nox!" The assassin exclaimed in a distressed tone. "Nox needs your help! He stayed behind to buy us time to escape, but he's now engaged with the entire army alone!"

Thorian's expression froze. The murmurs and groans of the surrounding kobolds receded into the background, transforming into indistinguishable white noise. As he conjured the image of his most loyal follower in his mind, an unrestrained fury ignited within the depths of his heart.

So they want to all die.

* * *

Wolvendale Village

At around the same time

The once vibrant village, filled with the bustling activities of the kobolds and kobloids, was now overflowing with humans. Some laid lifeless on the ground, but the majority were striding and running around, displaying no compassion or sympathy for the fallen.

Many of the dwellings Thorian had painstakingly constructed using valuable wood units had been razed by the magi's devastating flames. The wall was breached at multiple points, with large sections succumbing to the blaze. Some of the magi were casting waterballs in an attempt to subdue the ravenous fire.

"Why are we doing this again?" The towering figure known as Ragnor posed his question to the woman dressed in vibrant green next to him.

"Do you mean extinguishing the flames?" She returned his question with one of her own, an eyebrow arched in curiosity.

Ragnor shook his head in negation, “No, I mean why did we come here in the first place? I still don’t understand this territory business. Wouldn’t it have been better if we just rushed to the Ravenwood palace and claimed it?”

Nalia, the lady in green, chuckled at Ragnor's incessant questioning, “And then what? Assume control over a city of the dead?”

Her gaze drifted over the men and women around them. Their primal instincts and barbarism were barely concealed beneath a fragile shroud of civility. "These folks are a challenging lot to manage. They played their part well in breaking through the village walls and conquering it; it's only regrettable that the lord was not present for us to eliminate.”

Ragnor's grin widened at Nalia's explanation, “Did you expect what we found here too? A village filled with monsters that are able to talk?”

Nalia remained silent for a beat. Her face was a mask of neutrality, but Ragnor could see through it.

"Is this something you didn't predict?" He couldn't resist the urge to taunt her. "Now, that would be a first."

“Well, nothing in my past experiences suggested such an outcome," Nalia conceded, her admission leaving Ragnor visibly taken aback. Even the lean figure walking beside them seemed startled.

"Soren," Nalia addressed the slender man, "What's the situation with the Guild Masters?"

"They remain as uncooperative as ever," Soren revealed, a trace of dread in his voice. "Whenever someone enters their domaine, they die a most terrifying death."

"So that speedy rat is still hiding," Ragnor clicked his tongue in disappointment. "What a pity. I would have liked to crush him myself."

Nalia, disregarding Ragnor's comment, nodded at Soren's report. "That's to be expected. Without full control over this territory, they retain the right to tell us off."

"So, we need to kill the lord of this village to truly claim it?" Ragnor queried, his eyes shining with manic glee. "I wonder what he looks like? I hope he's a strong wolf, mighty enough to offer me a challenge."

"You have a one-track mind focused on combat and death," Soren rebuked, shaking his head in disapproval. "You should aspire to be more civilized."

"Ha! You're quite funny," Ragnor responded, laughing raucously. "Discussing civilization whilst we're surrounded by monsters. Even those among us are no different than beasts."

As Ragnor voiced these words, he cast a surveying look at the thousands of men and women crowding the village. Their eyes glowed with a sinister red light, and their breaths sounded rough, like those of wounded animals.

"Just what did you do to them?" Ragnor asked Nalia, his gaze a blend of apprehension and admiration.

"Just a slight enhancement," she responded nonchalantly. "I simply helped them tap into their true nature. In return, they gained power they could never have dreamed of. It's only unfortunate that it's temporary."

Following a moment of silence, Soren ventured to ask, "Temporary? What does that mean?"

"Power doesn't come without a price, does it?" Nalia replied, her smile enigmatic before it faded to an impassive mask. "At this moment, their demise would serve me more than their survival."

Nalia's statement caused both Soren and Ragnor to freeze, their expressions a mirror of shock. However, before they could voice their reactions, a band of men and women appeared, converging on their small gathering from all sides. These rowdy villagers, their eyes ablaze with wild fanaticism, were led by a man with fiery red hair. His stature was slender and seemingly unimposing, yet he radiated an authority rooted in an unsettling aura of dread.

“Nalia, there is something we need to talk with you about,” he moved towards the woman in green with confident strides, his expression a grotesque dance of insanity. “Why don’t you have some rest and leave the rest of the matters to us?”