Jannet’s vision blurred as he felt his body teeter on the brink. His instincts screamed at him to keep moving, keep fighting, but his HP counter flashed ominously in his mind.
HP: 298/800... 262/800... 225/800.
The warning alert flared, its red glow casting a disorienting haze over his already dimming reality. Blood slicked his claws and scales, both his own and the humans’. The battlefield around him was a hellscape of fallen lizards, goblins, and humans alike. Their cries of pain, rage, and fear blended into a cacophony that echoed across the jungle clearing.
Jannet’s claws raked through another soldier, attacking with his sword claws one more time. The weapon carved deep gashes through the man’s armor, and he crumpled to the ground with a scream. The claws however were now broken and for every enemy he felled, another stepped forward to take their place. The lizards and goblins were fighting valiantly, but even they were beginning to falter. The tide of human soldiers seemed endless, an unyielding wave crashing against Newscar's defenders.
Jannet’s vision swam as his stamina waned. His limbs felt heavy, his movements sluggish, and the pain from countless wounds was beginning to seep through his adrenaline-fueled haze. For a brief, haunting moment, the battlefield shifted in his mind's eye, transforming into a memory.
He was back in the small, suffocating house from her human life. Walter loomed over her, shouting, his hands gripping her arms hard enough to bruise. She had shrunk away, her voice silenced by years of fear and submission. That old, haunting weakness bubbled up, threatening to drag her under again.
But not this time.
Jannet’s roar tore through the battlefield, shaking his enemies and allies alike. This was not the housewife who had cowered in the shadow of others. This was Jannet, the Sovereign of Newscar, and the world would remember her name.
The humans hesitated, their formation wavering for a moment as the thunderous sound echoed through the jungle. But the respite was brief. The archers loosed another volley, and the relentless tide surged forward once more. Jannet’s HP continued to tick down.
HP: 190/800... 154/800... 130/800.
His body moved on instinct, his claws slicing and his tail smashing as his mind drifted between sharp clarity and a dark, encroaching void. Around him, the lizard line was faltering. Even #1, stalwart and unyielding, bore numerous wounds, his movements slower than usual. Rose fought nearby, her body battered but her determination unbroken.
Jannet’s stamina was nearly gone, and his resolve stretched thin, when the sounds of battle were interrupted by something new.
BOOM.
A low vibration rippled through the earth, sending tremors beneath the feet of every combatant. Jannet's head snapped toward the source, his golden eyes narrowing. In the distance, birds took to the skies in frantic flocks, their movements like black smoke rising against the jungle canopy.
BOOM.
Another tremor, closer this time, accompanied by the sharp crack of a massive tree trunk splitting and crashing to the forest floor. The vibrations sent waves through the battlefield, momentarily halting the human advance. Every head turned toward the source of the disturbance, unease rippling through the soldiers’ ranks.
Then, it emerged.
The creature towered above the treetops, its enormous bulk lumbering into view. Covered in ancient, gnarled scales that gleamed like blackened steel, its form radiated a primal, terrifying presence. Rows of jagged teeth lined its maw, far too many to count, and its tail lashed behind it with destructive force, flattening anything in its path.
Jannet activated his identification ring, his mind racing as the system’s text scrolled into view.
Ancient Noble Crocodile.
Level: 184
A cold dread seeped into his chest. He glanced at Baby Goblin, who was standing atop a smaller lizard mount, her wide eyes filled with recognition and terror. She pointed frantically at the creature, shrieking in her squeaky voice, seemingly gesturing something like “Jannet! It’s the monster from my picture!”
Jannet’s mind flashed to the crude drawing Baby Goblin had shown him months ago—the beast that had driven her and the other goblins south. It wasn’t a hedgehog. It was this: a crocodilian titan, an unstoppable force of nature.
The humans scrambled to reposition, their commanders barking orders as they shifted their ranks to face the new threat. Panic spread through their lines, their careful formation dissolving as soldiers broke off to prepare for the incoming behemoth.
Jannet took the momentary distraction to assess the state of Newscar’s defenders. The eastern wall was battered, and the defenders were battered with it. Too many lizards and goblins lay unmoving on the ground, their blood soaking into the earth. Even if the humans were delayed by the Ancient Noble Crocodile, Newscar’s defenses were at their limit.
This was not a victory. Not yet.
Jannet hissed memetic orders to retreat to the inner den, the last defensive line. His tail lashed the air as he directed #1, Rose, and Randel to lead the retreat, ensuring the wounded were carried back. The goblin riders worked in teams, ferrying injured lizards to safety.
“Pull back!” Jannet roared, his mind voice a mix of command and urgency. “The humans are distracted, but we don’t have time. Move!”
The defenders retreated in an organized chaos, the inner den fortified but not invincible. As Jannet backed away from the breach, he cast one last glance at the battlefield. The humans, for all their overwhelming numbers, were scrambling. The Ancient Noble Crocodile let out a guttural roar, a sound that reverberated through the jungle and seemed to shake the very air. Trees splintered beneath its weight as it advanced, and Jannet could see the humans’ fear.
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The Duke of Fayeron stood tall on his command dais, his face grim as he surveyed the battlefield. The breach at the eastern wall, the apparent weak point in the goblin fortress, had become a hellish meat grinder. What should have been an easy path into the heart of the enemy’s defenses was now a blood-soaked choke point.
His soldiers pressed forward, wave after wave, only to be met by the towering figure of the Sovereign—a colossal black-scaled Komodo dragon. Each charge broke against its hulking form like waves on a cliff, the Sovereign’s claws, tail, and teeth carving through men with devastating efficiency. Even the fireballs from the mages, which would send most beasts scattering in terror, seemed to barely faze it. The wall of black scales and sheer determination was a sight to behold, and it sent a ripple of unease through the Duke’s seasoned heart.
“This isn’t normal,” the Duke muttered to himself, his gauntleted hand gripping the hilt of his sword tightly. His commanders, less composed, scrambled to explain away the scene.
“The breach is secured, my lord,” one of the commanders said confidently, though his voice wavered. “The defenders are faltering. They’ve taken heavy losses—look at how many lie dead! It’s only a matter of time before we push through.”
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The Duke gave the man a sidelong glance, his skepticism evident. Yes, the breach was piled high with fallen bodies, both human and lizard. But the defenders—those massive Komodo lizards and their sparse goblin allies—held with an almost unnatural resolve. They didn’t break ranks. They didn’t flee. They fought like something more than mere beasts.
“These aren’t goblins,” the Duke said, his voice low and cold. “Not like any we’ve faced before. There’s something different here.”
The commanders exchanged uneasy glances. “Perhaps a Noble Goblin King or a powerful shaman, my lord,” one suggested. “That Sovereign beast must be their pet—”
“Pet?” The Duke cut him off with a sharp tone. “That is no pet. That is a leader.”
The commanders faltered, their words catching in their throats. Before they could respond, a faint rumble began beneath their feet. It was subtle at first, easily dismissed as the vibrations of the battlefield. But it grew steadily stronger, and the noise of the battle began to change. The cries of soldiers and the clash of weapons were joined by the frantic calls of birds taking flight in great flocks, their wings a dark cloud rising against the jungle canopy.
“What’s that?” one of the commanders asked, his voice tinged with confusion and unease.
The Duke’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the horizon. Far to the north, the treetops swayed unnaturally, parting as if pushed aside by an unseen force. The rumbling grew louder, rhythmic, and the ground itself seemed to tremble beneath its weight.
Then, they saw it.
The creature emerged from the jungle like a living nightmare, its massive form dwarfing even the tallest trees. Covered in ancient, gnarled scales that glinted like iron, the Ancient Noble Crocodile moved with a lumbering grace that belied its immense size. Its maw opened to reveal countless jagged teeth, each as large as a man’s arm. Its tail swung behind it, snapping trees in half as though they were twigs.
The Duke’s breath caught in his throat. He had heard of such creatures before—myths and rumors whispered among the adventurers who occasionally passed through the borderlands. This was no mere beast. This was a remnant of the primordial world, a creature from the deep Monster Lands far to the north. The kind of monster that would require an army of platinum-ranked adventurers from the capital to fell.
The commanders stood frozen in place, their faces pale. One finally found his voice. “What… what is that?”
“Something far worse than a goblin,” the Duke replied, his voice heavy.
The Ancient Noble Crocodile let out a guttural roar, the sound so deep it felt like a physical force, rattling the very bones of those who heard it. The human soldiers faltered, their ranks breaking as fear rippled through them.
“Form ranks!” one of the commanders shouted, his voice cracking. “Archers, loose! Mages, fire at will!”
The soldiers scrambled to obey, but their fear was palpable. Arrows peppered the creature’s hide, bouncing harmlessly off its armored scales. The mages conjured fireballs and lightning bolts, hurling them with desperation, but the massive beast barely seemed to notice.
“We’re not equipped to fight this,” another commander said, his voice barely above a whisper.
The Duke’s mind raced. His army had been bloodied in the assault on the goblin fortress, their strength sapped by the traps, the relentless defenders, and now this. Infection would spread among the wounded by nightfall, and morale was already crumbling. This creature wasn’t something his conscripts and knights could handle—it was an extinction-level threat for his army.
The Duke turned to his commanders, his voice sharp and commanding. “We cannot hold against this creature. Begin a controlled retreat. The vanguard will hold the line and delay it as long as possible while the main army regroups.”
The commanders hesitated, clearly unwilling to send men to what was effectively a death sentence. But the Duke’s gaze left no room for argument. “Now! This creature is drawn by the scent of blood and the noise of battle. If we can scatter, we may lose it.”
The commanders nodded reluctantly and began barking orders. The soldiers broke into smaller units, retreating toward the tree line in a disorganized shuffle. The vanguard, a mix of seasoned knights and conscripts too slow to pull back, formed a desperate line between the Ancient Noble Crocodile and the retreating army.
The Duke remained on his dais, his eyes fixed on the monstrous creature. “So much blood,” he murmured to himself. “It may not stop even after we’re gone.”
He glanced back at the goblin fortress, its defenders visibly pulling back into their inner defenses. He couldn’t be sure if they were retreating out of fear or regrouping for another counterattack. Either way, the jungle had become a battleground far more dangerous than he had anticipated.
As the Ancient Noble Crocodile roared again, its massive form bearing down on the vanguard, the Duke turned his horse toward the retreating army. The weight of the battle and the consequences of his decisions pressed heavily on his shoulders.
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The den of Newscar was heavy with silence, broken only by the distant, guttural roars of the Ancient Noble Crocodile as it wreaked havoc on the retreating human army. Jannet stood at the entrance, his massive frame silhouetted by the dim light filtering through the jungle canopy. His black scales glistened with blood—some his own, most not. His wounds, while numerous, were superficial compared to the toll the battle had taken on his people.
In the breach, the battlefield was a scene of carnage. Around thirty Komodo lizards and seven goblins lay motionless among the corpses of the seemingly countless human soldiers they had fought so valiantly against. Their sacrifices had held the line, had protected Newscar, but the cost weighed heavily on Jannet’s mind. He glanced down at his claws, still smeared with gore, and flicked his tongue. The bitter tang of death hung in the air.
Inside the den, the survivors gathered in clusters. The goblins, normally a lively and mischievous group, were subdued, their faces marked with grief and exhaustion. The lizards huddled together, their tails entwined in silent solidarity. Even the hatchlings in the nursery were quiet, as though they, too, could sense the gravity of the moment.
Jannet turned to face them, his golden eyes scanning the crowd. The room felt impossibly full yet achingly empty, the absence of the fallen leaving an unfillable void. He stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate, his towering presence commanding attention.
Through his sovereign memetics, he conveyed a message of calm and unity. "We mourn today, for we have lost many who stood with us. Good lizards. Good goblins. They gave their lives not for conquest, but for home, for family, for the future we are building together."
The wave of sorrow and pride that rippled through the group was almost palpable. Jannet felt it in the flick of tails, the tightening of goblin fists, the quiet, reverent hisses that filled the space.
He continued, his tone resonating with solemnity. "We will honor them. Their sacrifices will not be forgotten. Let us have a moment of silence for the fallen. Let us remember their courage, their loyalty, their love for Newscar."
The den grew still. Even the jungle outside seemed to pause, the sounds of distant birds and rustling leaves fading into an eerie quiet. Jannet closed his eyes, his reptilian mind flickering through memories of the day. The sight of Spotted Eye’s grave being trampled by human boots. The cries of wounded comrades. The rage he had felt as the breach was assaulted.
He opened his eyes, exuding a quiet resolve through his memetics. The silence lasted a moment longer before he let the hum of his presence ease the tension, encouraging his people to rise from their sorrow.
"We survived because of them," Jannet said finally. "And we will survive what comes next. The Ancient Noble Crocodile is here now, a force of the jungle as primal as the soil beneath us. This is our home, but we must tread carefully. The jungle has many faces, and not all are kind."
The crowd shifted uneasily. The presence of the massive creature was a threat they could not ignore. It had routed the human army, but its motives were unknown. Would it move on? Would it attack Newscar? The possibilities loomed over them like a storm cloud.
Baby Goblin stepped forward, her small frame radiating determination. She let out a soft, guttural series of sounds, her hands gesturing animatedly. Jannet caught the meaning through her actions and the subtle resonance of her bond with the lizards: “We will be ready. Whatever it does, we will be ready.”
The sentiment spread through the crowd, emboldening the lizards and goblins alike. Randel, his frills drooping with exhaustion but his eyes sharp, stepped up beside Jannet and let out a confident hiss. #1, still bleeding from a gash along his side, stood tall, his presence alone a reassurance to the others. Rose lingered at the back of the group, her maternal instincts keeping her close to the hatchlings, but her gaze was fierce, her claws flexing in readiness.
Jannet nodded to them all, a sense of pride swelling in his chest despite the grimness of the day. "We will rebuild. We will grow stronger.
The crowd dispersed slowly, the goblins and lizards returning to their tasks. Some began tending to the wounded, others set about repairing the damage to the den’s defenses. The atmosphere was heavy but resolute—this was a family, a nation, and they would endure.
Jannet remained at the entrance, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon where the Ancient Noble Crocodile’s roars still echoed. For now, it was hunting humans. But soon, it might turn its attention to Newscar. Jannet flicked his tongue, tasting the air, his mind turning over strategies and possibilities.
They had survived one battle, but the war was far from over.