For some reason, there were no demon race guards. A dense, black mist drifted through the air, wrapping the surroundings in an eerie silence. They were able to slip out of the demon facility without encountering a single soul.
The northern part of Northground had already fallen into their hands, becoming a living hell. If they were going to flee, it had to be south.
To the south, many powerful combat tribes still remained: the high orc tribe of the pig-head tribe, the cyclops tribe—the high-ranking one-eyed giants—the high ogre tribe, and the ox-headed red minotaur tribe.
Under normal circumstances, these groups would never join hands. But if Aldebaran continued his march southward, it was obvious they would end up as food for that grotesque mass of flesh, just like Gobuza and his kin. If so, a temporary alliance should be possible.
"I'm... at my limit..."
Gobuza took Gobmii's hand as she stopped in her tracks, on the verge of tears.
"Just a little further! Once it's light out, we'll find a place to hide and take a breather! So please, just keep going a little longer."
He spoke with as much conviction as he could muster. The fact that they had escaped at all was nothing short of a miracle. But pursuers would surely be on their heels soon, and capture meant certain death. Putting as much distance between themselves and that place was their only option right now.
"O-Okay!"
Perhaps heartened by the promise of rest, Gobmii found the strength to walk again.
How long had they been moving? Just as everyone reached the brink of total exhaustion, unable to take another step, the dense forest opened up into a clearing.
Bathed in the pale, rosy light of dawn, a single colossal tree stood magnificently in the center of the clearing.
"Let's rest here."
Given the size of their group, pursuers from the demon race weren't their only concern. The wild beasts roaming the forest were just as dangerous to Gobuza and the others in their weakened state. Taking a short breather in this open spot offered a better chance of survival than lingering in the beast-infested depths of the woods.
Just as everyone sat down in the shade of the great tree to rest—
"What is this?"
The muscular hobgoblin let out a startled cry, brow furrowing as he looked down at something coiled around his leg. In an instant, the vine-like tendril hoisted him into the air, suspending him upside down.
"This is bad! It's a Madagascar! Get away from it!"
No sooner had the older man yelled than the giant trunk split apart in every direction, revealing a gaping maw lined with razor-sharp fangs.
"Eek!"
Vines lashed around Gobmii's torso, lifting her off the ground as well.
"Big Bro Gobro! Gobmii!"
Gobuza moved to dash toward them, but—
"Don't! You'll get eaten too, Young Master!"
The older man seized him from behind, holding him back.
"Let go! Big Bro and Gobmii are—!"
The Madagascar hoisted the two higher, dangling them directly over its ravenous maw.
Why?!
Of all places, how could they have chosen a Madagascar's nest to rest in?! Why was their luck so wretched? Ever since their peaceful, ordinary life had been effortlessly torn apart by those demons, Gobuza and the others had been trapped in an endless nightmare.
Is this my fault for wishing things were different?
It was true that he had found their quiet life dull. Gobuza had longed for something more. He had always idolized the legendary monster heroes his mother told him about in old stories.
Tales of a hero who united the wills of all monsters and stood against an evil god.
But after being conquered so effortlessly by those filthy demons, he had learned down to the marrow of his bones that such tales were nothing more than naive fantasies.
I know that!
There were no convenient heroes who appeared in the nick of time to save you. In this miserable world, the strong devoured the weak. The powerless were culled, and only the mighty could enforce their will!
I know that!
The northern combat tribes had fallen one after another, reduced to mere fodder. In Northground today, Gobuza and his kind were nothing more than helpless ants!
But I still refuse to accept this!
If he abandoned his two childhood friends and ran away with his tail between his legs, he might survive. But—
That's not the future I want!
"Gobuza!"
Gobmii's desperate scream tore through his ears.
That's right! There's no way in hell I'm running!
A surge of emotion, hot as molten magma, erupted within him.
He refused to just sit back and cry. He would not let anything else precious be taken from him!
"Hey, Young Master!"
Tearing free from the older man's grip, Gobuza raised the wooden stick he had picked up along the way.
"Let them go!"
He charged straight at the Madagascar.
A vine-like tentacle whipped across the air at blinding speed, swatting Gobuza away like a tiny pebble. He slammed hard into a tree behind him and tumbled across the dirt.
The breath was knocked completely out of his lungs, a searing pain tearing through his body as though his bones had shattered. Even so, Gobuza forced himself back to his feet, the stick still gripped tightly in his right hand.
Through his blurred vision, he saw the two about to be swallowed whole by the Madagascar.
"Aaaarrrgh!"
Wrenching a feral roar from his throat, he tried to lunge forward again, only to stumble clumsily and crash face-first into the dirt.
He snapped his head up just in time to see Gobmii and Big Bro falling into the creature's gaping maw.
"Stooooop!!"
As his desperate scream tore from his lungs, clean lines slashed through the Madagascar's body, and the two plummeted into the darkness of the maw.
"Damn it..."
He hadn't been able to save them. Once again, he had lost the people he cared about most.
Crushed by an overwhelming wave of helplessness and despair, his fist struck the ground with what little strength he had left.
"Y-Young Master!"
At the older man's cracking shout, Gobuza looked up once more.
"Huh?"
There lay the chopped remains of the plant monster. Standing in front of the wreckage was a dog-faced man, holding Gobro and Gobmii safely by the backs of their collars.
The man, who appeared to be a kobold, wore strange attire—a one-piece garment combining a long-sleeved shirt and trousers.
He gently lowered Gobro and Gobmii to the ground.
"Nice fight! These two are safe. You're alright now. Don't worry."
His voice rang out with absolute confidence. Hearing those remarkably reassuring words, Gobuza let his consciousness slip into the dark.