Somewhere in the Forest of Gulmir;
A thirty-member faction was massacring a horde of goblins headed by as they charge forward. They couldn't assume the dragon forms due to the location.
But then again, Goblins were only level-200 Elite grade creatures. So, their full strength wasn't even needed to kill them. The only thing that his weakest faction members, a level-236 violet dragon need to worry about is the presence of the goblin's leader, which is a level-250 Heroic grade Orc with high defense.
Meanwhile, a well-built old man was standing in the middle giving orders to everyone or more like scolding his subordinates.
As they finished a batch of goblins, the short-tempered old man started ranting again, "Reed, what are you doing? You are at level-310 dammit. This was the third time already. Why are you taking too long to kill that level-250 green giant? Do you think we are on a f**k**g trip?
