In a distant corner deep within the Thorned Dark Forest, the goblin who had survived was running like mad, heading toward the main nest where their leader resided.
Having fled for several days, his physical condition was terrible, and he was severely exhausted, yet he never stopped until he reached his destination.
Along his way, the dense trees gradually thinned out until he arrived at a flat expanse of land, devoid of any greenery. All that remained were the stumps of chopped trees.
Before him, as far as the eye could see, stood a massive wooden fortress, built in a crude and disorganized fashion its shape utterly bizarre.
The goblin took a breath to recover and ran toward the nest. As soon as he arrived, the goblins assigned to guard the massive gate opened it for him and let him in.
