The Crocodile Chief's roar tore through the marsh's stillness as he vented his fury.
His enormous body shattered the last stretch of vines, and his huge eyes swept over the ravaged slope.
Yet the tiny creatures who had stolen his offspring had already vanished deep into the forest.
Only the captive youngster's faint, mournful cries and the lingering scent of that human commander remained in the air.
Never in his long life had he suffered such humiliation.
As far as he knew, these creatures that walked upright on two legs were fragile and cowardly, little snacks that occasionally offered a change of flavor.
They offered sacrifices out of fear, or fled in panic the moment they spotted him in the distance.
They were merely an insignificant link in this marsh's food chain.
Yet today, these insects had not only stolen his offspring but also hindered him with those ridiculous green vines.
Most unforgivable of all was the commander who had never once lost his composure.
His feeble body was beneath notice, yet it seemed to harbor a strange power.
The Giant Crocodile Chief gave another low roar, ordering his guards back to the nest.
He would remember this scent.
Next time, he would crush that man's bones.
In the council chamber of the Lord's Residence in Newborn Town.
The atmosphere was oppressive.
The young giant crocodile, trussed up like a parcel in the corner, let out mournful cries that kept everyone on edge.
Ora Stonebeard sat at the very end of the table, as far from Veylin as possible.
The hot-tempered baron sat ramrod straight, like a neatly stacked powder keg-seemingly in order, yet ready to explode at any moment.
His thick arms were folded across his chest, his chin raised high, his entire posture declaring, "I don't owe