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Kraggul\'s thoughts swirled back to a time long before this chaotic present.

When starvation hit, Kraggul\'s parents made a heartbreaking decision — they had only enough food for one child.

At the next meager meal, they handed him both his portion and his little siblings, telling him to eat. Kraggul tried to cut it in half and share it with them.

His mother shoved it back to him. "You eat it all, or they get it all. It\'s you or them."

Kraggul\'s throat tightened with each bite, tears streaming down his face. His siblings cries turned to whimpers, then silence, their once bright eyes becoming vacant and unfocused.

One day, they simply didn\'t wake up. The memory of that moment haunted him, fueling his resolve to never be weak again. Weak Hobgoblins were destined for a fate of starvation and servitude.

He remembered his childhood, a time when he and his closest friends — Gralnok, Vargash, Drakthor, and Morzog — had been sold to slavery.

Born into a world where their race was considered weak and subservient, they had known only hardship and suffering.

Other, more dominant races had used them as laborers and cannon fodder, exploiting their physical prowess but denying them any semblance of dignity or freedom.

Gralnok had always been the strongest among them, a giant even as a child. His strength had often saved them from harsher punishments, as he could bear the brunt of their overseers\' wrath.

Vargash, with his quick mind and sharp wit, had been the planner. He had always found ways to make their lives a little easier, be it through clever tricks or subtle sabotage.

Drakthor was the quiet one, and had a hidden reservoir of rage that would explode in rare, terrifying bursts, while Morzog was the ever optimist, and had a heart full of dreams and the determination to see them through.

Together, they had endured the cruelties of their captors. Their bond had been forged in the fires of their shared suffering.

They had vowed to each other that one day they would rise above their oppressors and carve out a future for their people — a future where they would never again be slaves.

The years passed, and they grew stronger, both in body and spirit. They learned the ways of war from their captors, absorbing every tactic, every strategy, every nuance of battle.

When the opportunity finally arose, they seized it with a ferocity born of years of pent-up rage and longing for freedom. They escaped their bondage, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake and went to the Barren Wasteland, away from the slavery of the mainland.

Their journey to power was not easy. They faced countless enemies, many of whom saw them as nothing more than escaped slaves, unworthy of respect or recognition.

But they fought back, driven by their shared history and their dreams of a better future for the Hobgoblins. They gathered others to their cause, forming a formidable army of Hobgoblins who shared their vision.

King Kraggul emerged as their leader, a symbol of their defiance and strength.

Kraggul\'s gaze shifted to the spot where Vargash stood, exhausted but ready to fight. Memories of their past battles together flashed through his mind. Vargash had always been by his side, his tactical genius complementing Kraggul\'s brute strength.

The three generals who had fallen, Gralnok, Drakthor, and Morzog were not just soldiers — they were brothers. The loss of these three was a heavy blow, not just to their army, but to Kraggul personally.

As Kraggul stood there, the weight of his past and the uncertainty of the future pressing down on him, he felt a pang of sorrow. He had promised his friends — his brothers — that they would create a world where their people could live without anyone looking down on them. Without anyone thinking that they were weak.

He envisioned a world where everyone feared the Hobgoblins — a race that could dominate the world. They would no longer be slaves but conquerors, not weak but formidable, far stronger than others had ever believed. Find your next read at m_v l|e-NovelBin.net

Kraggul\'s dream was to transform his people into a force that would command respect and inspire fear across the lands, and not just submit to a fate of slavery.

Now, with the arrival of Rain and his soldiers, that dream seemed to be slipping away.

The Hobgoblin army, 20,000 strong, might have stood a chance against the Orcs, but they were weary and exhausted from relentless battles to face a new army. With the fresh and formidable Ebizo soldiers, their morale waned. Even though the Ebizo numbered only 1,000, their presence was overwhelming.

The Ebizo, clad in thick, impenetrable shells, moved slowly but with a terrifying inevitability. Each step they took seemed to reverberate through the ground, a harbinger of doom for the Hobgoblins.

Despite their sluggish pace, the Hobgoblins\' meager strength was utterly insufficient to breach the Ebizos\' defenses. Arrows and swords glanced harmlessly off the Ebizo\'s hard shells, causing little more than scratches.

Desperation began to take hold as the Hobgoblins, driven by fear and fury, launched themselves at the Ebizo. The clash of battle was fierce, the air filled with the sounds of metal clanging against armor and the cries of the fallen.

Yet, the Hobgoblins\' weapons could not penetrate the Ebizo\'s natural armor. Blades bent and broke against the Ebizo\'s shells, rendering the Hobgoblins\' efforts futile.

When the Hobgoblins drew close, hoping to exploit any weakness, they were met with the Ebizo\'s spears. Long and deadly, the spears pierced through Hobgoblin flesh with brutal efficiency. Each thrust was precise and powerful, skewering multiple Hobgoblins at once. The Ebizo soldiers, with their well-coordinated formations, repelled every attack with ease.

The battlefield became a scene of carnage. The once-proud Hobgoblin army, reduced to desperate skirmishers, was systematically dismantled.

Their numbers, though vast, dwindled rapidly as they fell to the advance of the Ebizo. The Hobgoblins\' cries of pain and frustration filled the air, mingling with the unyielding march of the Ebizo soldiers.