Damn! A classic remake, and you couldn't have remade something good? What the hell is Zanzil's Poison?

Hogg was in high spirits.

It couldn't hide its smugness as it left Ripsflesh's tower, and Nash, who followed at its side, gazed at his chieftain with a look of pure adoration.

The little gnoll had thought they were done for.

But not only had his chieftain effortlessly defused the danger, he'd also secured assistance from the terrifying Lord Ripsflesh—and even gotten a promise that he could become a hunting priest.

Ah, so this was the so-called "power of cunning wisdom" his chieftain was always going on about? It was clearly much more useful than the heavy flail in his hands!

"You two went and talked to that lunatic Ripsflesh and somehow came out alive?"

The Bonechewer clan's vanguard captain, standing guard outside the tower, stared in astonishment at Hogg and Nash as they emerged unscathed. This brawny warrior, as strong as Kenport, even rubbed his eyes hard.

He thought he must have seen wrong.

Lord Ripsflesh had been frantic with worry lately because of the mission. He'd already executed several warriors for all sorts of trivial offenses. As far as this captain was concerned, the two crippled wretches who'd dared to disturb him couldn't possibly have come to a good end.

The captain had stayed behind just to watch the amusing sight of the two reckless idiots being torn to shreds by the warlocks and fed to those hideous creatures from another world. And yet, they'd somehow survived!

This was downright unbelievable!

Were crippled gnoll wretches from Transia really this lucky?

"Lord Ripsflesh is an excellent plague warlock and one of the few wise gnolls among our kind. You should show some respect to our powerful mentor of the Plague Clan!

"You loudmouthed, brawny fool!"

Hogg planted its paws on its hips and berated him:

"Apologize! Apologize for calling