"Ribbit! Look at the great King Sticky—His Majesty sits with his eyes tightly closed, the very picture of deep contemplation. How wise!"
"Ribbit! Even merely sitting there, the kingly aura His Majesty gives off makes me want to kiss the rotten mud between His Majesty's webbed toes."
"Look at His Majesty's round, full, enormous body. No matter what storms or challenges he faces, he will never be shaken, ribbit!"
Below the throne of rotten mud, the frogfolk had gathered together, whispering among themselves.
Except their so-called "whispering" was loud enough for King Sticky Robit, all six hundred pounds of him atop the throne, to hear every word clearly.
Normally, Robit would have been so pleased he would have wanted to cock up his webbed feet.
But now, Robit could not enjoy it in the slightest.
After receiving Jelt's panicked report that "humans have invaded and defeated the Mud Duke on the outskirts," Robit had not been angered at first. Instead, he had thought it a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
Ever since the [Heart of the Swamp], which symbolized his ruling authority and served as the source of his magic, had been lost, the entire Place of Great Noise had continued operating under his absolute rule—but the vitality of these waters was visibly fading by the day.
The magical deterrence he had once been so proud of had greatly diminished. Several Mud Dukes on the fringes of the swamp had even repeatedly found all sorts of excuses to shirk the great court assembly.
Undercurrents were stirring.
And today, those restless tribal chiefs all happened to be in the Place of Great Noise.
To prove to these chiefs that King Sticky Robit still possessed the absolute power to command Blackwater Swamp, he had deliberately made a high-profile decision: dispatch his most elite and strongest