He felt a cold, jagged resolve beginning to form in the pit of his stomach, replacing the hollow dread. If the world was this cruel, if it could tear a man like Korg apart without a second thought, then "Overlord" wasn't a title to be enjoyed. It was a necessity for survival.
He didn't want to be the hero who died with a tragic smile. He wanted to be the one who built a wall so high and a weapon so terrible that no Grey Monster would ever dare to look at his heart.
And even though, he wanted to get off the girl, he knew that doing so would be more disadvantageous than not, and it would even break her rhythm, shatter her momentum, and endanger them both. Survival, in this moment, meant clinging to her for dear life while the world burned red behind them.
He looked at the Lanky yellowish-brown monsters chasing them. They were running on all fours, their long arms acting like extra legs, covering ground with a terrifying, twitching speed.
