This Is the One-Eyed One??

Two consecutive strikes had left the Minotaur Beast King gravely wounded. He was already foaming slightly at the mouth, his jaw trembling, and his body covered in blood.

Tzeentch's blessing was of no use to the portly gentleman. The Minotaur Beast King's equipment was primarily designed to deal with spellcasters.

For example, it gave him a whopping 36 points of spell resistance. Defensive spells were dispelled outright, and he also had Greater Dispel Magic. After all, he was a follower of Tzeentch.

Aside from scheming, Tzeentch's greatest strength was magic.

In theory, then, as long as a spellcaster stood before him, he could confidently crush them.

Unfortunately, the portly gentleman wasn't a spellcaster. He was a thoroughly straightforward warrior who merely used the title of Grand Judge as a disguise.

Oh, no—that wasn't quite right. It wasn't really a disguise. After all, from a certain perspective, as the most formidable person in Nurn—and also the person with the most enemies—he hadn't been hacked to death because he was truly powerful. Ahem.

After all, someone like a Grand Judge was bound to offend a great many people. And he was the only one who could remain completely unconcerned about it.

The Minotaur Beast King finally realized that things weren't looking good. Or rather, his pride and confidence had been beaten out of him by the portly gentleman, who should have looked like nothing more than a decorative accessory.

And so the Minotaur Beast King let out a roar and swung the massive cleaver in his hand at the portly gentleman. Just as the portly general focused all his attention on that cleaver, the Minotaur Beast King suddenly drew a bullwhip from his waist. Well, it was made of bull hair—or, more accurately, it was a whip made from a Screaming Shaman.