Rion sat in the hut like a commander awaiting an assault. His shoulders were tense, and his eyes were cold and vigilant. The light wind blowing from outside whistled through the half-burned walls of the hut. Rion noticed none of it—his entire focus was on internal calculations.
After a while, Gobuto entered. His face showed worry, discomfort, even a hint of guilt. He gently closed the door, then bowed deeply:
"Master…" he said in a low and gentle tone.
Rion slowly raised his head. His eyes were sharp, filled with thoughts despite the coldness.
"How is the village?" he asked quietly, but firmly.
Gobuto placed his hands behind his back and bowed his head for a long moment. Then he answered slowly and softly:
"A total of twenty-four huts have burned…"
Rion's jaw clenched slightly. He squeezed his fingers together, gathering his thoughts.
"So… more than fifty percent," he said in a cold, but precise tone. "How many goblins remain?"
