The Bone White Teeth Chain lightly swayed, reflecting a reddish-orange glow in the campfire's light.
A towering figure draped in a wolfskin cape stood silently.
No concealing movements, even blocking the only exit of the cave.
Yet the goblins, usually extremely sensitive to intruders invading their nest, did not detect his presence.
As if instinctively acknowledging his rightful place here, a part of the entire cave.
It was intentional, of course.
[Barbarian]
[Mourning Frost Oathbinder]
As someone who had completed the transition, stepping into the "Transcendent" domain, a truly high-level professional.
Frogon knew clearly, if he didn't restrain his breath and conceal his form.
Even by just standing here, doing nothing.
The chilling killing intent, formed by the lingering echoes of countless prey's final cries.
Would be enough to make the feeble and thin degenerate greenskins in front look like snow hares locked in a wolf's gaze, too stunned and foolish to flee.
