There was no roar or cheer after the last Elite Kobold Fighter fell. Most of the hobgoblins were on the ground, leaning against the dead Elite Kobold Fighter. They breathed heavily, and relief was visible on their face.
They suffered all kinds of wounds: stab wounds, incised wounds, and bruises. Some of them even had their hands dangling, broken. The exhaustion was obvious, as not many were excited about the loot.
Only one hobgoblin and two goblins made their way back, getting their share of loot. The rest were on the ground, exhausted. The victory didn't feel like they were winning. The majority of their force was gone as well.
This was mutual destruction between their village. That was what was in Red's mind. He didn't know if these hobgoblins and goblins had the same thought as him. In his eyes, they looked simply exhausted and wounded. It was like they didn't think that way, considering how they fought.
"Come here! Get this sword off my body!" A commanding voice resounded.
