And on a crude wooden chair, frozen mid-breath, sat the Goblin King. Two women knelt by his sides, bound tightly, their fear etched into every line of their bodies.
Nolan’s eyes darkened. He clenched his fist. "How dare you..."
The Goblin King stirred as time resumed. His eyes locked onto Nolan, confusion flashing before twisting into a snarl.
"Hey... who are you?" he growled.
Nolan’s gaze was cold. "Good thing you can speak. That means we’re going to have a conversation." His eyes flicked briefly to the chained women trembling in the corner, then back to the throne.
The Goblin King smirked, baring jagged teeth. "That’s such a nice suit you’re wearing. I don’t know how you got in here without me noticing... but it doesn’t matter. I’ll end you."
He raised a clenched fist, green light flaring in his palm until it blazed like fire. With a guttural roar, he hurled the energy straight at Nolan’s face.
The explosion filled the hall with smoke and flame, rattling the walls. For a moment, it seemed the stranger had been obliterated.
But as the smoke cleared, Nolan stood exactly where he had been—his arm lifted, a faint shimmer of shield magic fading around him. His expression hadn’t changed.
The Goblin King staggered back a step, disbelief written across his face. "H-How? How are you not dead?"
Nolan’s eyes narrowed. His voice was calm, but it carried the weight of a storm. "Now it’s my turn to ask the questions. Tell me... what have you been doing here?"
Before the goblin could answer, Nolan moved.
In an instant he dashed forward, faster than the eye could follow, and drove his fist into the king’s stomach. The impact cracked like thunder.
The Goblin King’s eyes bulged as the air blasted from his lungs. His body rocketed backward, smashing through one hut, then another, wood splintering as he crashed through five in a row before finally skidding to a halt in the dirt.
The ground shook from the force of the blow.
Death was written across the Goblin King’s face as he lay in the dirt, gasping, blood dribbling from his mouth.
"W-Who are you? Who are you... and what do you want?" he groaned, struggling to push himself off the ground.
The commotion drew the other goblins. Dozens turned and rushed toward their fallen king’s cries—only for the wyvern to slam down into the village, its wings sending dust spiraling as it let out a deafening roar. The goblins froze, then broke into panic, scattering in every direction.
Nolan stepped forward, his eyes sharp. "Now, you’re going to tell me everything—your sins, your crimes—and I will be the one to judge you. Look at those women. Starved. Beaten. Forced against their will." His tone darkened. "No wonder you’re not human. Because no human would sink this low."
The Goblin King snarled, trying to rise. But before he could speak, Nolan’s foot blurred. The kick smashed into his face, sending him crashing through another hut.
Inside, Nolan followed.
The broken walls revealed the prisoners: twenty-five women, chained, their eyes wide with fear. Some no older than twenty, some in their thirties, all trembling at the sight of another man in the room.
They flinched when Nolan entered, thinking him another tormentor.
"A human... just like us," one woman whispered, her voice trembling. "You’ll die too. Everyone who tried to save us has died."
Two more women pleaded, "Please... just run."
But Nolan pointed past them. "Don’t be afraid. Look at him."
Their gazes shifted. The Goblin King staggered in, face swollen, body trembling. He roared, trying to muster authority. "Don’t look at me like that! I’ll kill him!"
He staggered toward one of the captives, his hand glowing with green energy. "If you move, I’ll kill her!" he barked, grabbing for the nearest girl.
Nolan’s voice cut through the tension, cold and merciless. "You’ll do what... with what hand?"
The Goblin King froze. He looked down—only to see his own severed hand lying on the ground, blood pouring from the stump.
His scream tore through the hut. "When—?! When did you cut me?!" His eyes darted in panic. "When did you move?!"
But before he could comprehend, Nolan was already there—closer than light, his palm thrust forward. His hand sharpened with divine energy, gleaming like a blade, aimed straight at the Goblin King’s hand.
"No! My hand! No!" the Goblin King screamed, clutching the bleeding stump. His eyes widened with disbelief. "How... how is this even happening? Everything was going smoothly! I had the women, the power, the village... the kingdom itself. Just a minute ago, everything was mine! Who is this man that dares stand before me? What is he?!"
His voice cracked into madness. "I’m not going to die! I’m not going to die! I’m not going to die!" he bellowed, his roar shaking the wooden walls of the hut.
Fueled by rage and desperation, the Goblin King staggered to his feet, his remaining hand glowing with twisted energy. With a wild scream, he charged straight at Nolan, swinging a fist with all his strength.
Nolan didn’t even flinch.
As the blow came close, he raised his knee and drove a brutal kick into the Goblin King’s stomach.
The impact thundered through the hut. The Goblin King’s body shot upward like a ragdoll, smashing through the wooden ceiling in an explosion of splinters. The entire hut shook as daylight poured in from the gaping hole.
The Goblin King’s chest heaved as his breathing grew frantic. His single eye darted wildly, sweat dripping down his scarred face.
"Ah... ah... what am I going to do? What am I going to do?!" he muttered, half-crazed. "I am the King of Goblins... no, the God of Goblins! Yes, the King and the God—it’s me! It’s me!"
His remaining hand slammed into the dirt as he forced himself up. His voice cracked with desperation. "Wait... my trump card. He doesn’t know... he hasn’t noticed... the Goblin General!"
Nolan kept walking toward him, calm and steady, his steps echoing in the silence.