While the girls celebrated the successful recruitment of the gnomes deep within the mountain, the atmosphere elsewhere was growing increasingly grim.
The air in this part of the forest was heavy, saturated with the acrid and musky scent of the Gnolls. César advanced in silence, flanked by Gorn and a detachment of minotaur warriors. Although Gorn now served him—especially after César's union with his daughter, Taurina—César knew that the pride of a minotaur leader was a flame that never fully went out. A subtle, almost imperceptible tension lingered between them, like a rope on the verge of snapping.
Suddenly, a rain of bone arrows whistled from the undergrowth.
They were a nomadic clan of Gnolls, the same race as Sasha. These anthropomorphic hyenas, known for their savage ferocity, leapt from the trees. There were at least fifty of them, led by a massive and muscular Gnoll who emitted a putrid, greenish aura.
"Crush them!" Gorn roared, charging into battle with his massive axe, eager to prove his strength.
César did not move. With an almost invisible gesture, he sent a signal to the pigmen, goblins, and murlocs accompanying him. The order was clear: hold back, don't give it your all. César remained behind, arms crossed, observing the carnage with analytical eyes.
'Fight, tear each other apart… show me who is stronger,' he thought with a cold smile.
The battle was brutal. The minotaurs acted like walls of flesh, but the Gnolls fought dirty, using poison and coordinated attacks on tendons. Gorn was in his element, cleaving enemies in half, but even he began to pant after receiving several deep cuts from the enemy leader's enchanted claws.
After half an hour of combat, the clearing had become a cemetery of blood. The surviving Gnolls were wounded and cornered. César's goblins and pigmen had only scratches, but they were in perfect condition compared to the minotaurs, who were at the brink of exhaustion, their armor shattered and their breathing ragged. Gorn leaned on his axe, bleeding from his side.
"Lord… we have… defeated them…" Gorn gasped, looking at César with the hope of praise.
César slowly walked toward the center of the clearing. His clothes were immaculate; not a speck of dust stained them.
"You have done well, Gorn. You have proven your worth," César said in an unusually soft voice. "But you are weak. Far too weak to protect me if another threat were to appear right now. It would be better for you to rest…"
Gorn frowned, confused by the last words. Before he could react, César activated his Aether.
The surge of energy exploded outward, crashing into Gorn and forcing him to drop to one knee. At the same time, César's loyal subordinates unleashed their Aura and Mana at full force, surrounding the wounded minotaurs like serpents closing in on their prey.
Although the minotaurs had begun to learn César's mana system, the time had been too short. Without formed cores and exhausted from battle, they were no match.
"W-what… are you doing?" Gorn roared, trying to lift his axe with trembling hands. His muscles would not respond.
"I'm ensuring that our alliance becomes permanent," César replied coldly. With a swift motion, he struck Gorn's head, knocking him unconscious.
Time passed.
When the minotaurs awoke, their resentment and pride had been erased. In their place, an absolute and terrifying devotion filled their eyes.
César then turned toward the defeated Gnolls.
'Unlike Sasha's village, these are nomads,' he thought. 'Even so, Sasha will be pleased to know that more of her kind have joined us.'
The Gnoll leader, upon seeing the transformation of the minotaurs, was filled with primal terror. He tried to crawl away, but César's foot slammed into his back, pinning him to the ground with sharp pain. The last thing the Gnoll saw before losing consciousness was the goblin's predatory smile.
When the Gnoll leader opened his eyes again, the fear had vanished. Only blind obedience remained.
"Rise," César commanded.
In unison, minotaurs and Gnolls stood. They were no longer enemies. They were extensions of César's will. Gorn knelt, his gaze devoid of any previous doubt.
"At your command, my one and only Sovereign," Gorn said in a firm voice.
César looked toward the horizon, satisfied. His army had not only grown—it was now truly his.
The silence in the clearing was absolute, broken only by the crunch of branches beneath César's boots. Around him, warriors who an hour ago would have died for their pride now stood motionless, waiting for a single word to give their lives.
César looked at Gorn. The minotaur giant, once a constant source of tension, was now the most loyal shield in his arsenal.
"Gorn, take the Gnolls and carry the supplies," César ordered coldly.
As they approached the village gates, the atmosphere changed. The torches burned brighter than usual, and an unusual commotion could be heard coming from the center of the settlement. César frowned.
As he crossed the main entrance, the scene left him puzzled. A group of gnomes with red hats scurried from side to side, marveling at the village's constructions. But what stood out the most was a figure taller than any nearby building: a colossal woman with fair skin and electric blue eyes, observing the surroundings with a mix of curiosity and impatience.
Sasha, Raka, and Taurina ran toward César as soon as they saw him.
"César! We did it!" Sasha shouted, but suddenly stopped when she saw the Gnolls walking behind him. Her eyes widened. "Gnolls?! Where did they come from?"
"A nomadic group," César replied. "They attempted an ambush, but Gorn and I showed them the right path. Now they will join us."
Taurina, meanwhile, ran toward her father.
"Father! You're hurt…" she said with concern as she saw the cuts on Gorn's arms.
"I'm fine, daughter. Just minor wounds," Gorn replied, flexing his arms.
Taurina wanted to say more, but the gnome leader's voice interrupted the moment. The giant crouched down, bringing her enormous face just a few meters from César.
"So you're the famous leader?" Brizna said, her voice rumbling like thunder. "I was promised warm homes and respect for my smithing—and most importantly, that you wouldn't try to enslave us. If you keep your word, my gnomes will forge for you. If not…" she clenched a fist the size of a barrel, pouting slightly, "…well, I hope your minotaurs are durable."
César looked at the giant without blinking. A predatory smile spread across his face.