"Dolores."
Cassius called out the next name.
As the military chief of the Ashen Nest, as well as the designer of the trenches, fences, gates, watchtowers, and pitfalls at the Rock Fortress, Dolores did indeed need to enhance some strength as a guarantee.
The Goblin chieftain let out a sigh of relief.
This at least proved that his status in the Ashen Nest had not decreased too much—after all, such creatures love power even more than their zeal for war.
Dolores climbed onto the giant rock, kneeling on one knee in anticipation.
The blood flowed into his mouth.
Scorching.
This was the only sensation the Goblin felt.
The blood went down his throat like boiling magma, churning inside him, burning every inch of his body. He finally understood Ramp's pain.
But he still maintained his kneeling posture, trembling all over, his jaws clenched so tight that his teeth were nearly breaking.
"I will not die here."
"I will climb higher—at least higher than that foolish Ogre."
