Rukk The Goblin King barely made it through the city gates before another barrage of bolts slamd into the walls. The already weakened stonework couldn't withstand the assault—
With a deafening crash, the goblin capital's walls collapsed.
A massive cloud of dust engulfed the battlefield. The remaining goblin forces, who had been desperately trying to retreat into the city, scread as the falling rubble crushed them beneath its weight.
Renjiro watched in silence.
The cries of the dying goblins filled the air, but there was no rcy in his gaze. This was war. The loser would be destroyed, just as the goblins would have done to his people if they had won.
To them, elves weren't just enemies, they were food and playthings. His voice was steady as he gave his final command.
"Advance. Wipe out every last goblin." The elven army stord into the ruined city. The battle lasted nearly three hours before the last goblin fell.
The once-thriving streets of the goblin capital were now littered with corpses. So had been cut down where they stood, others had fallen to a barrage of arrows. The scent of blood and death hung heavy in the air.
But amidst the carnage, one sound remained.
Baa... baa... Thousands of sheep filled the city, huddled together in fear. These weren't ordinary livestock.
They were the remnants of the goblin kingdom—their soldiers, their civilians, all transford by Renjiro's cursed blade. In total, over thirty thousand goblins had been turned into helpless farm animals.
Elaria, standing at Renjiro's side, hesitated before asking, "Your Majesty... what should we do with them? Do we kill them?"
Renjiro glanced at the countless woolly creatures. "That would be a waste," he said. "In a few days, the human rchants will arrive. We'll sell them as livestock."
Elaria's face paled slightly. Elves revered nature. They never consud at, and the thought of selling these goblins, who were once living, sentient beings, as food unsettled her.
"But... humans will eat them," she murmured. "Isn't that... cruel?"
Renjiro smirked. "Does it make you uncomfortable?"
Elaria shook her head and said firmly, "No matter what decision Your Majesty makes, I will always support you."
Renjiro smiled and gently took her soft hand in his own. "These greedy goblins have beco so arrogant that they dared to treat elves as food. This ti, I'll let them experience what it's like to be eaten."
Elaria hesitated for a mont before asking, "Your Majesty... won't the human rchants notice sothing strange?"
Renjiro chuckled. "My golden dagger is a divine artifact called Mischief's Reaper. It has the power to permanently turn any non-king-circle creature into a sheep. No magic, no divine intervention, nothing can undo its effects except .
Once transford, their bodies beco identical to real sheep in every way. Only their souls remain unchanged. The only ones who could possibly see through the disguise would be necromancers, those who ddle with souls."
Elaria's eyes widened in shock. "A divine artifact?"
As Renjiro's fiancée and future queen of the elves, she was privy to certain secrets of their people.
For instance, the Crown of the Elf King, the artifact resting upon Renjiro's head, was the only divine relic the elves possessed. She couldn't even begin to guess where he had obtained such a strange and powerful weapon.
Renjiro gave her a knowing smile. "It's a rather interesting artifact, isn't it? It was a gift from the Elven Goddess."
Elaria finally understood.
"So, it was a blessing from the Goddess herself! That makes sense... Your Majesty is her chosen one. It's only natural for you to receive her divine favor."
"Your Majesty!" Lorien and the three battalion commanders approached with their troops in formation.
Renjiro turned to them and asked, "Is the area secure?"
Lorien nodded respectfully. "With the exception of Rukk's palace, every goblin in the kingdom has been wiped out. None escaped."
The elves were covered in goblin blood. The lee warriors—especially the swordsn and huntresses—had fought at close range, their elegant figures now stained red.
Yet, despite the gore, there was a certain eerie beauty to them, their sharp features only enhanced by the remnants of battle.
Renjiro's gaze shifted to the palace in the distance.
"Surround it. No goblin inside is to escape."
"At once, Your Majesty!" The elven army moved swiftly, forming an unbreakable periter around the palace.
A few elite goblin warriors attempted to break through, but they were swiftly cut down by the expert marksmanship of the elven archers.
The elves were renowned across the continent for their unparalleled archery skills. At long range, they could whittle down enemies with ease, even taking down creatures ranked a circle or two above them. Against ordinary goblins, they were simply untouchable.
Renjiro smirked.
"Let's see how long Rukk plans to hide." With that, he led his warriors into the palace. However, after searching the entire palace, they found no trace of Rukk.
Elaria frowned. "Your Majesty... could he have escaped?"
Renjiro narrowed his eyes. "The Goblin Kingdom has only three exits. Two have been sealed with boulders, and the last is guarded by Giant Golems. It's highly unlikely he fled that way... unless there's a hidden passage we don't know about."
Just as he finished speaking—
A deep, guttural roar echoed through the palace halls. The elves instantly tensed, their hands moving to their weapons. The sound had co from behind the royal throne.
Selena, the commander of the archer battalion, swiftly moved forward and examined the area around the throne with sharp eyes.
"Your Majesty," she called out. "There's a chanism here." She pressed down on the left armrest of the throne. With a heavy rumble, the massive stone wall behind the throne began to rotate.
A hidden passageway was revealed before them. Renjiro's eyes glead. "So that's where he's hiding." Without hesitation, he led his warriors into the secret passage.
The tunnel was dimly lit by glowing moss, but even in the darkness, the elves quickly spotted the massive creature lying ahead.
A Subterranean Drake—Rukk's personal mount, the sa beast that had pulled his royal carriage—was crouched in front of a large iron gate, its tail flicking in agitation.
The gate was slightly ajar. From within, a brilliant golden light spilled into the tunnel. It wasn't just any light. It was the glow of gold.
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