Within the heavy city walls, in a metal chamber simple in design yet far from crude, an old goblin was laughing hysterically. The four walls were made of polished magical metal, gleaming brightly enough to serve as mirrors, and inscribed with countless magic arrays that enhanced defense and perception. Three shimmering crystal screens floated before the old goblin, displaying every movement at close, medium, and long range within the sector under his command.
Through the central crystal screen, the golden-maned lionman's slowly collapsing body could be seen clearly. The gale swept over him, stirring his long fur strand by strand; everything showed up with perfect clarity on the screen. Behind the lionman's towering body, the two-thousand-meter corridor of flesh was piled with mangled blood and meat. Some lucky foreign warriors, their shoulders and half their bodies shattered by the shot, lay in pools of blood, howling themselves hoarse.
The old goblin was so excited his face had turned green, glossy green like an unripe eggplant. He waved his arms and roared, gasping heavily in his excitement. He was merely a slave laborer released from an Abyssal forge; his personal strength had barely crossed the threshold of a Human-level warrior. Any sufficiently strong human man, armed with nothing but a wooden club, could easily kill him.
Yet with the power of this miraculous alchemical city, he had slain a golden lionman at the peak of the demigod realm in a single blow, along with at least a thousand elite orc warriors. These orcs, capable of charging into battle with the vanguard legions, were all at least Heaven-level beings!
"One strike killed one thousand—no, two thousand... no, no, I killed ten thousand mighty orcs in one go!" the old goblin shrieked hysterically. "Clerks, write down my name! I am Old Mogi, and