Chương 175: The King of Gluttony Cannibalized

BANG! BANG! BANG! The goblins reloaded their muskets continuously, pouring volleys into the surrounding treeline. Trolls crumpled one after another along the edge of the woods; virtually none managed to breach the clearing. Truth be told, the trolls had no desire to push forward anyway. Their sovereign—the King of Gluttony—had transformed into a terrifying, unnatural entity that filled their hearts with deep unease. The moment they saw the King turn on his heel and flee, the last of their resolve shattered.

They turned and scattered into the dark canopy in sheer, blind panic. A few veteran trolls knew the truth: that horrific form was the result of a divine possession by the God of Gluttony himself. Their King was no longer the leader they once knew. Dropping to all fours, the jet-black King of Gluttony barreled through the dense foliage like a mad boar, covering over ten kilometers in the blink of an eye. Gulush and a small band of war-marked trolls pursued their fleeing King.

They didn't even understand why they were running after him—it was as if an insidious voice was whispering endlessly in their ears, urging them forward: Catch him... catch the King of Gluttony... and then... EAT HIM! The eyes of Gulush and his thirty-odd war-marked warriors turned pitch-black. The ritual tattoos across their bodies squirmed violently, growing darker and thicker by the second. An ominous, abyssal entity whispered in their minds:"Eat... eat him~ That mountain of lard I cultivated for over a decade...

Delicious... Eat..." Saliva dripped from the corner of Gulush's jaws as he muttered raspy, mindless noises, charging forward under the unholy guidance. Before long, they found the King of Gluttony lying collapsed amidst a bed of withered branches. He lay there motionless, his bloated flesh radiating a hypnotic, intoxicating aroma. Unable to resist the primal urge, the surrounding trolls swarmed forward and pounced on him. Gulush tore and bit frantically, his jaws dripping with black grease.

Within his mind, a dark consciousness roared with laughter—the evil entity was deriving immense, sickening satisfaction by consuming the King's flesh through their mouths. Gulush gorged himself with feral, unstoppable madness. Controlled completely by the entity, he had been reduced to nothing more than a vessel, a mouth serving the desires of a dark god—until a bloodcurdling shriek from the King snapped him back to reality.

"AAAAARGH! IT HURTS! IT HURTS! GULUSH! MY FRIEND! SAVE ME! SAVE ME!!" Gulush's consciousness fought desperately against the dark intrusion, and the pitch-black void in his eyes gradually receded. As his clarity returned, he took in the horrifying sight of thirty war-marked trolls tearing and devouring the King alive. Horrified, Gulush fell backward onto the dirt.

"ROAARGH! GULUSH! SAVE ME! SAVE ME!!" The King of Gluttony's massive body was shrinking rapidly under the relentless assault, the sickening sound of wet crunching echoing through the silent forest. Out of the writhing pile of bodies, a single bloated hand reached out toward Gulush in a desperate plea for help.

"Nakuja! Na... Nakuja!!" Calling out the King's true name, Gulush scrambled forward, shoving and pulling at the war-marked trolls in a desperate bid to stop the cannibalistic frenzy. Controlled completely by the dark deity and far outnumbering him, the zealots ignored his efforts entirely. As the King's shrieks grew fainter and fainter, a frantic Gulush grabbed the reaching, bloated hand, heaving with all his strength to drag his friend out of the swarming mob.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. SNAP! With a sickening crunch, the fat arm snapped clean off at the shoulder. The sudden loss of resistance sent Gulush tumbling backward onto the soil. Hours passed. Nothing remained of the King of Gluttony except a pile of picked-clean bones on the forest floor—a grim fate no different from the countless prey he had devoured throughout his life. Yet, he had left one thing behind.

Numb and hollowed out, Gulush sat slumping against a giant tree, staring at the severed fat arm resting beside him. Memories of his youth flooded his mind—a time when he and Nakuja were the strongest warriors in the tribe, hunting the deadliest beasts, slaying powerful foes, and dreaming of building a great legacy together. When did everything change? Gulush looked down at the dark tattoos covering his arms. When did these cursed marks begin spreading through the tribe?

As he pondered in silence, the sated war-marked trolls slowly gathered around him, their pitch-black eyes staring at him with unblinking intensity. THUD! As one, every single troll dropped to their knees, their voices echoing through the canopy in unison:"KING! NEW KING!! KING! NEW KING!! KING! NEW KING!!" With every chanted roar, Gulush watched in horror as the tattoos on his arms squirmed and expanded, growing thicker until the dark, ominous runes covered almost every inch of his skin.

A profound sorrow washed over his heart as the memory resurfaced. Years ago, a band of troll refugees had arrived from the distant north, claiming their homeland had been conquered by elves and seeking asylum with their southern kin. Nakuja—the tribal chieftain at the time—had welcomed his northern brothers with open arms. And from that day on, the black tattoos and the dark cult of the God of Gluttony began spreading like a plague through their people.

On the other side of the battlefield, Li Qinwu gave his troops a brief moment to catch their breath before preparing to deal the troll tribe a fatal blow. The transcendent entity they had just repelled was clearly the leader of the trolls. Now that he was heavily wounded, the tribe likely had no high-tier combatants left—making this the perfect moment to crush them once and for all!

He fired a signal flare to call down the airship, assembling a strike force of system-generated soldiers packed with demolition charges. He planned to execute a full-scale Kirov-style aerial bombardment! Meanwhile, the ground forces would advance steadily to wipe out the remaining trolls!

To maximize their chances and test the waters regarding the Water Drake tribe's loyalty, Li Qinwu dispatched Gob-Run alongside a mage capable of translation magic to contact the Water Drakes, asking if they were willing to join the offensive. To his pleasant surprise, Gob-Run returned with eighty percent of the Water Drake population! The forest was practically swarming with giant bipedal lizards!

The moment the Water Drakes heard they were going to purge the trolls, they practically exploded with enthusiasm—bringing their own weapons and rations, eager to lead the charge! The trolls and Water Drakes were bitter, ancestral enemies. Trolls considered Water Drake meat a rare delicacy and held a particular fondness for their eggs. Their frequent raids on the sandy Drake nesting grounds had caused immeasurable grief and tragedy over the generations.

So when they heard the "Yellow Army"—no, when they heard the Goblins were launching a total war against the trolls, the entire tribe mobilized, determined to wipe their oppressors off the map. Furthermore, this was the Elder's explicit decision. The Elder recognized that the goblins possessed overwhelming, near-divine power that his people had no hope of resisting. Since resistance was impossible, joining them was the obvious choice.

Earning military merit in battle would elevate the Water Drakes' standing within the newly formed Alliance—a win-win scenario. Thus, Meng Li—the chief of the Water Drakes—mobilized every able-bodied warrior, leaving only a small guard force to watch over the nesting grounds before marching out in full force. With the Water Drakes bolstering their ranks, Li Qinwu felt even more confident about obliterating the troll stronghold.

Still, lacking complete confidence in the Drakes' combat effectiveness, he summoned Meng Li and the other lizard commanders, instructing them to follow behind the main goblin force and refrain from acting recklessly. Their primary objective was to secure the territory conquered by the goblins. Meng Li agreed enthusiastically. In truth, he preferred it this way; his warriors stood between 1. 8 to 2 meters tall—a height disadvantage that made fighting three-meter-tall trolls feel like children fighting adults.

Trailing behind the goblin vanguard to mop up remaining pockets of resistance allowed them to contribute while minimizing casualties. Satisfied with the leadership's cooperative attitude, Li Qinwu waved his hand, gifting the Water Drakes all the surplus iron farming tools from the camp to use as weapons. This gesture sent the Drakes' morale skyrocketing. In the past, they had struggled against the trolls not only due to size differences, but because the trolls possessed iron weaponry.

Now that they held iron in their own hands, they felt a newfound sense of strength. Their gratitude toward the goblins deepened, and their enthusiasm for joining the Alliance burned brighter than ever. With high morale across the board, Li Qinwu gave the order. The massive, multi-species army began its relentless march toward the troll stronghold.