Daimon stood amidst the fallen bodies of the defeated wolves, his crimson eyes ablaze with excitement and a touch of madness.
He wiped a droplet of blood from the corner of his mouth, relishing the taste as he savored the thrill of battle.
"That was some good workout and entertainment," he declared with a wide grin, his voice carrying the echoes of his triumph.
His body trembled with restless energy, eager for more challenges to conquer.
His fingers twitched with anticipation as he surveyed the forest around him. The ancient trees stood tall, their branches swaying gently in the breeze.
Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor.
Daimon's keen senses took in every detail—the rustling of leaves, the chirping of birds, and the subtle shifts in the wind.
With a graceful flourish of his hand, he brushed a lock of dark hair from his face, revealing his boyish yet mischievous grin.
"Now then, let's see where we need to go," he mused aloud, his voice a low whisper that seemed to carry through the rustling leaves.
He took a step forward, his movements fluid and confident. As he walked deeper into the forest, his steps seemed to echo with a strange rhythm, as if he were dancing to an otherworldly melody that only he could hear.
His excitement was palpable as he explored the forest with no clear destination in mind.
To Daimon, the World Towers were a realm of endless possibilities, a stage upon which he could unleash his insatiable thirst for power and conquest.
As he walked, his fingers danced through the air, tracing intricate patterns as if conjuring the very essence of the forest around him.
His body moved with an ethereal grace as if he were part of the very fabric of nature itself.
He laughed softly, a haunting melody that harmonized with the whispers of the leaves. "How fascinating," he murmured, his eyes alight with curiosity. "I have no idea where I'm going, and yet, the thrill of the unknown is intoxicating."
As he continued his exploration, the dense forest eventually gave way to a clearing, and before him lay a quaint village.
Simple wooden huts dotted the landscape, nestled in the embrace of the trees. But what caught Daimon's attention were the inhabitants—the green-skinned little people known as goblins.
Their long noses and ears, sharp fangs, and claws reminded him of certain species he had encountered in some novels.
It seemed that these were the notorious Green Goblins, creatures notorious for their ruthless and violent nature.
A panel appeared before Daimon, displaying information about the Green Goblin Village.
[Green Goblin Village]
[Green Goblin Village is one of the four goblin villages on the first floor]
[Green Goblins didn't really have high intelligence and they only liked to kill, plunder, and rape.]
[Destroy the Green Goblin Village to fulfill a certain condition]"
[Kill Green Goblins: 0/1000]
[Kill Green Goblin Soldiers: 0/100]
[Kill Green Goblin Mages: 0/10]
[Kill Green Goblin King: 0/10]
Daimon's eyes sparkled with mischief and curiosity. The prospect of facing a horde of goblins filled him with a strange thrill.
He saw this as an opportunity to test his newfound powers and to sate his thirst for conquest.
He chuckled to himself, relishing the challenge that lay before him. "Well, well, it seems I've stumbled upon a little goblin village," he mused, his voice tinged with excitement. "What a delightful surprise."
His hand gripped the hilt of his sword as he approached the village with a confident stride. His crimson eyes locked on the goblin inhabitants, who were scurrying about, seemingly oblivious to his presence.
"Let's see just how much fun we can have with these little green pests," he said with a wicked grin.
With a thought, Daimon summoned a blood sword, shaping the crimson essence of his power into a deadly blade.
It gleamed with an otherworldly light, and he twirled it with a flourish, testing its weight and balance.
Without hesitation, he rushed towards the Green Goblin Village, his movements a blur of grace and power. The goblins, caught off guard by his sudden appearance, turned to face the intruder.
"Emergency! A strong human is attacking!" one of the goblin soldiers shouted, ringing the alarm bell.
Goblin soldiers armed with crude weapons rushed to the defense of their village. They growled and snarled, their beady eyes filled with malice as they charged at Daimon.
Their attacks were swift and fierce, but to Daimon, they were nothing more than mere annoyances.
With the skill and precision of a seasoned warrior, he effortlessly parried their blows and struck back with his blood sword.
The goblins fell one by one, their bodies scattered on the forest floor.
Daimon moved with an almost inhuman speed, his blood arts allowing him to manipulate the crimson essence into deadly weapons.
Blood spears impaled goblin soldiers, blood barriers deflected their attacks, and blood tendrils ensnared and immobilized them.
As the numbers of the goblin soldiers dwindled, Daimon's grin widened. The thrill of battle surged through his veins, and his laughter echoed through the village like a haunting melody.
"My, my, aren't you adorable little pests?" he taunted, his voice laced with amusement. "You think you can stand against me?"
But even as he reveled in his power, he knew that the real challenge lay ahead—the Green Goblin King.
This monstrous leader was said to be the most powerful of the goblins, and Daimon's excitement grew at the thought of facing such a formidable opponent.
With a flick of his blood sword, Daimon dispatched the last of the goblin soldiers. The village was now eerily quiet, the only sounds being his steady breaths and the soft rustling of leaves.
He walked towards the heart of the village, where the Green Goblin King was said to reside.
His crimson eyes blazed with anticipation, eager to dance this dangerous dance of blades with the most powerful creature in the village.
The forest seemed to hold its breath in anticipation as Daimon approached the looming figure of the Green Goblin King, who stood tall and menacing.
Its eyes glowed with a sinister light, and its gnarled claws flexed in anticipation of the battle to come.
Without a word, Daimon readied his blood sword, his body trembling with excitement. This was what he lived for—the
thrill of battle, the taste of victory, and the dance of power that could only be found within the World Towers.
And so, with a warrior's cry and a madman's laughter, the battle between Daimon and the Green Goblin King began.
Their clash echoed through the forest, a symphony of blades and blood, as the dance of power continued in the realm of the World Towers.