Condensed Fury
“You…ha…fight well, Lord Zafar.” Death Duke Iaren’s chest rose and he let out a sigh of relief. “You are worthy of receiving the title of Lord.” Iaren stood tall but his shoulders were streaked with black blood, his helmet was slightly dented and his sword chipped with one arm broken. Lord Zafar however, laid on the ground, his breathing ragged and raspy, his face a splotch of beaten pulp, his right arm was severed, green blood still oozing from the wound, his proudful great sword was snapped in half. “The…King…will not…forgive you!” “The Goblin King is nothing in the face of Death.” Iaren spoke coldly, slicing the goblin Lord’s head. “The Goblin Empire will become dust in a few days anyway.” Iaren turned to the other side, unsurprised to find his master’s sword buried deep in the
- Writer
