Yes, a Gnoll.
Motan swears he isn't mistaken. Not far away, a goblin that's enthusiastically scurrying over with tiny, quick steps, is dragging a gnoll. The gnoll is gleefully coming this way, holding a wrench aloft that shines brightly amidst the surrounding hazy fog.
Perhaps the goblin was running too fast. This seemingly aged goblin actually tripped and fell midway, only to immediately get up, grab the gnoll's tail, and continue trotting here under Motan's astonished gaze...
'I don't know why, but I suddenly have a very ominous feeling!!'
Cordova, half-lying on the ground in standby mode, sent a message to Motan. However, associating the message with the current situation, Motan reluctantly came to a conclusion...
He seems to have anticipated it correctly.
"Mr. Ruvie~" Femigel lazily lay on the ground, grinning, "You really don't need to hurry like this. Cordova just lost energy, there's no real danger."
