CHAPTER 75: BROKEN TYRANT

The Goblin King threw back his head and roared. "Come forth, my General! Come! Stand beside your king!"

From the far side of the ruined village, the ground trembled. Heavy footsteps echoed like drumbeats. The survivors hiding in the huts gasped in terror.

Then, emerging from the shadows, a towering figure appeared. Clad in battered armor, with jagged horns crowning its head and a massive axe gripped in one hand, the Goblin General stepped forward. His crimson eyes burned with battle-hunger as he took his place beside the broken king.

Nolan stopped and raised a brow. "So this is your trump card?" he said, his voice calm but sharp as steel. "Not bad. You’ve trained him well." His eyes narrowed, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Looks like I won’t be killing him. He’ll be useful when I start my city. He’ll stand guard at my gates."

The Goblin King’s jaw dropped. "What nonsense are you spouting?! He belongs to me! My General—strike him down now!"

At his command, the Goblin General let out a guttural roar and stomped forward, the ground cracking beneath his steps as he swung his colossal axe toward Nolan.

The Goblin General swung wildly, his massive axe cleaving through the air, but Nolan hardly moved. He only bent his head slightly, cracking his neck as if bored.

"Well," Nolan said, sidestepping another strike, "there’s some power in your swings. I’ll give you that. But don’t roar at me again. Your breath stinks."

The General growled louder, insulted, and pulled back for a final blow. His axe came down with all his might—only for Nolan to stop it between two fingers. Nolan smiled, calm and cruel, before flicking the weapon away like trash.

"I’ll give you a light punch," he whispered.

His fist connected with the General’s jaw. A single strike—enough to send the giant collapsing into unconsciousness.

Now it was only the Goblin King. Nolan turned his gaze on him, his eyes sharp like blades. "You dared kidnap women. You dared enslave them. And for what? Because your kind is ’ugly’? Pathetic."

The Goblin King sneered, bleeding, broken. "You... don’t understand. I’m half-human. Goblin females are hideous. Humans... humans are hot. I want them."

"That doesn’t mean you can do this without their will," Nolan replied coldly. "What you’ve done is unforgivable."

He stepped closer. With one clean motion, Nolan severed the King’s other hand. The creature screamed, writhing, blood pouring from his stumps.

"Don’t worry," Nolan said softly. "Your punishment has only begun."

The women chained inside the hut cried out in fear when Nolan entered. They huddled together, terrified, some whispering, "Please... leave before he kills you too. He’s only pretending... he can regenerate... he’s done it before."

Nolan raised a hand, silencing their panic. "Look at me. I’ve already broken him. He can’t win."

But even as he said that, the Goblin King, desperate and trembling, tried one final ambush. He crawled forward, clutching at the dirt, muttering through his broken jaw:

"I... I’m the God of Goblins... I can’t lose... with this last attack, I’ll end you..."

He lunged.

Nolan vanished in an instant—faster than light—and appeared behind him, resting a hand on the monster’s shoulder.

The King froze.

Then Nolan’s fist shattered his nose, breaking his skull. The Goblin King stumbled, terrified beyond words. His body shook, and humiliation washed over him. He had pissed himself.

"I’ve never been so scared... never..." the Goblin King whispered, his voice broken, tears streaming down his filthy face.

Nolan looked down at him without pity. "Pathetic."

The King wept, trembling. "Please... I don’t want to die..."

Nolan clenched his fist. His voice was steady, like a judge declaring sentence.

"Sorry. I didn’t plan to kill you. But you slaughtered men. You murdered women. You enslaved the young. Sins like yours demand judgment. Everything you do comes back to you. You started killing... so be ready to be killed."

With that, Nolan unleashed his full power. His fist struck the Goblin King’s face, the force ripping through flesh and bone, tearing the air itself. The monster’s neck snapped, his body disintegrating into nothing—erased from existence.

Nolan stepped back into the hut where the women were chained.

"You don’t need to worry. It’s all over," he said, his voice steady.

He bent down, and with a single grip, he snapped the iron chains binding them. The women flinched at first, afraid of his strength, but their eyes widened as one by one, their shackles broke.

After freeing them, Nolan walked to the far corner where two unconscious women lay slumped against the wall. Chains clung tightly to their wrists. He broke those too, his expression darkening.

"What could they have done to you... to leave you like this?" Nolan muttered, looking at their frail, weakened bodies.

Outside, the sound of goblins echoed. Nolan stepped out to face them. Around a hundred goblins stood trembling, another fifty more gathering at the edges of the ruined village. They hesitated, staring at Nolan. They had seen their master die.

"Listen well," Nolan’s voice rang across the field. "Your king is dead. From now on, you belong to me. Whether you agree or not makes no difference—I am your master."

He raised his hand, his mana surging. In that instant, an invisible command pulsed outward. Every single goblin knelt where it stood, eyes glowing faintly—the mark of his domination.

Nolan walked to the unconscious Goblin General, still sprawled in the dirt. He pressed his palm against its head. Power flared, binding the General as well.

"Now you are mine," Nolan said. "From this day forward, you fight for me."

With that, he turned back to the hut. "All of you—come outside."

The women hesitated, then slowly emerged. Nolan counted them. "Fourteen survivors."

"Yes," one of them whispered.

Nolan nodded. He lifted his hand again, summoning. Six wyverns burst forth from the ground, their wings stretching wide. The women gasped in fear, but Nolan reassured them calmly.

"They won’t harm you. Even if you fall, they’ll catch you. Trust me."