Where there are people, there will be a world; naturally, where there are goblins, there will also be a world of goblins.
The Demon King can dictate the upper order of Black Wind Castle, but to that lord, the lower order is like a black box... After all, the taller you stand, the harder it is to see your feet, an ironclad rule universal to the world— one also passed down through goblin proverbs.
Snick, though he had only been a director for two days, had a profound understanding of his work.
He was well aware that Lord Demon King did not choose him for his combat prowess, as he simply didn't possess such a thing.
On the contrary, precisely because he had no combat power, he mastered the skill of surviving between the cracks and could navigate the crowded, narrow goblin community with ease and freedom.
In rely one night, he and the minions he bribed with beer were able to keep a close watch on those unusual goblins.
Should they make any move, he could ensure they would not escape his sight.
As nightfall quietly descended, Black Wind Castle gradually sank into slumber. On the streets, only the inconsequential wails and curses of the Hell Dwarves and the sound of rats scurrying through the sewers could be heard.
Beneath the scorching molten iron, two invisible dark currents were weaving together silently.
The Dragon family's strategies had long since comnced.
And the Demon King, who had co from afar, had hamred in a nail the very mont he reigned over his territory.
At that sa ti, on the other side of Demon City.
The manor of the Dragon family stood silently, akin to an isolated fortress.
Molten lava flowed around the manor, reflecting off the dark high walls, upon which greedy Cannibal Vines coiled, their tendrils occasionally squirming as if awaiting the approach of prey. At the top of the manor, a black spire towered in the night, like a blade piercing through the Void, casting a deep and eerie shadow.
In the study of that manor, the elder of the Dragon family—Zakro Dragon, sat in a carved high-backed chair.
The hunched figure was elongated by the flickering candlelight, reflecting a shadowy abyss. His eyes were serene and profound, capturing the weak firelight as if gazing at the notebook spread open before him or perhaps at so unfathomable direction within the Void.
That notebook belonged to the previous Family Head of the Dragon family, his beloved eldest son, the forr Demon King of Thunder County, Reggie Dragon.
The yellowed pages were filled with densely packed writing, occasionally interspersed with obscure runes and special symbols.
It was evident that his child had poured a significant amount of effort into this notebook and had already made considerable progress.
Unfortunately, his child was still slightly lacking, falling on that thorn-filled path to Becoming a God...
What exactly was that little bit that was missing?
Zakro sighed, closing his clouded eyes, suppressing the tornt and madness that lurked beneath his eyelids.
He had invested too much effort in Becoming a God, and just as everything seed on the verge of fruition, he hadn't expected things to turn out this way.
His knuckles rhythmically tapped on the desk, a deep resonance filling the entire study.
At this mont, footsteps were heard outside the study, accompanied by a creaking sound as the door gently opened.
Kamu Dragon entered the study, standing across from Zakro, a calm expression tinged with a hint of apprehension and inquiry.
"Grandfather, you called for ?"
"Yes." Zakro's gaze remained fixed on the notebook, not lifting his head, even though he was the one who summoned his grandson.
Kamu waited for a long ti, and when his grandfather remained silent, he finally couldn't hold back, asking in a low voice.
"What happened? You called here so late…"
Although he was the Family Head of the Dragon family, and his grandfather had retreated behind the scenes for more than a century, he knew well that his grandfather's influence within the family had never waned. Moreover, because his father, Reggie Dragon, had been serving as the Demon King of Thunder County, this elderly man's control over the main house was stronger than it was a century ago.
Many key decisions were still under the control of this elder, and to this day, he had not fully relinquished that decision-making power.
It was precisely because of this that while Kamu respected his grandfather, he still harbored a hint of caution.
"...Luo Yan has returned." Zakro slowly spoke, his voice low and deep, akin to whispers from the Abyss, "You should be familiar with this na, right?"
Upon hearing Luo Yan's na, Kamu's expression imdiately turned dark and fearso.
"Even if that guy turns to ashes, I won't forget." He said through clenched teeth, his jaw clicking audibly.
"...It seems you haven't forgotten what he did, which gratifies . Failure is not terrifying; it is the forgetting that is." Pleased with Kamu's reaction, Zakro's lips curled up slightly, his tone gentle yet with a hint of aningful depth.
Kamu looked at him, speaking in a low voice.
"Has that guy done sothing again?"
"He has done nothing, yet everything."
Seeing his grandson's face filled with confusion, Zakro continued leisurely.
"The developnt of Black Wind Castle has been too rapid. With the help of the Padric family, the changes there can be described as having wings. And as you know, Hell is a place where the strong are venerated. The Nobles' understanding of power goes beyond re strength; leadership is key. After witnessing the changes in Black Wind Castle and the Maze of Thunder County, so have begun to question... Whether the Dragon family is even capable of governance? Otherwise, why does the fertile land of Black Wind Castle seem like garbage in our hands?"
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