400. Legendary Battle
Minnow Fellingchamp could feel the rumbling of the wagon as the caravan made its way through the flatlands. He sat in a cage, amongst dozens of other Beastmen, bound in chains.
Their heads hung low as they, their faces muzzled so they couldn’t bite and tear their way through the prison. Minnow, for one, wasn’t muzzled. It was quite odd, but that wasn’t the only oddity about him. He was, also, short— half the size of the [Wolf Beastmen]. He had white hair, and he wasn’t covered in fur like his cellmates. Also, he had pointed ears.
He was an Elf.
Now, it might seem odd that an Elf wasn’t in the Elven lands, considering that they were rather reclusive at times. Furthermore, it might seem even odd-er that an Elf had the name of a Beastman. But Minnow Fellingchamp hadn’t always lived here, nor had he always gone by that name.
His original name had been Bus’sin. He was born and raised in the Elven lands. In fact, he had been the son of a Principality. His father had been incredibly strict, forcing him to adhere to the Elven virtues without ever straying— even for a mere moment.
Unfortunately, that came with the side effect of fostering a fascination with the forbidden within him. So when his father enrolled him in one of the premier Elven academies for magic, he picked up… well, necromancy.
It went well at first— in the sense that no one found out about his dabbling with the undead. Necromancy was punishable by death in the Elven lands, but he kept his secret hidden. And no one would have if he hadn’t spilled the secret to his best friend who so happened to be his cousin.
What Bus’sin didn’t know then was that his cousin had been jealous of his status all this time, so he exposed the burgeoning [Necromancer]. Faced with death in his home lands, Bus’sin fled to the ocean— taking a ship and sailing far away.
He'd hoped to find refuge in the land of the Cyclops. Unfortunately, a storm washed him off course and he somehow found himself… here. In the Beastmen Plains. Where necromancy was not, in fact, frowned upon.
Here, he gave up his original name and picked up the name of Minnow Fellingchamp. Of the Fellingchamp Tribe. The tribe that took him in when he had nothing. He now traveled around the Beastmen Plains, hoping to spread the kindness he received from that tribe around.
And that was how he ended up in this mess. The Elf sighed as he cast his gaze around the cage. The [Wolf Beastmen] around him were growling, poking their heads out of the bars, but unable to break out. He’d been passing through the Furious Whispers Tribe, when he was embroiled in an inter-tribal conflict.
He wanted to help, but he wasn’t ready for the ambush that happened overnight. The entire Furious Whispers Tribe was caged and locked up, with its greatest warriors slain defending them. If Minnow had been better prepared, perhaps he could’ve done something…
He heard a sniffle come from behind him. He craned his neck. Three [Lion Beastman] cubs huddled together in the corner, tears in their eyes. Fear on their faces.
“...what’s going to happen to us, Mountaintooth?”
“I… don’t know…”
They whispered quietly to each other. Minnow bit his lower lip as he saw this scene. Taking in a deep breath, he approached them. They cowered back, but he offered them a kind smile.
“Hey, it’s going to be alright.”
He calmed them. They looked up at him— well, actually, they looked straight at him because he was around their height. Still, his soft words seemed to reassure them at least slightly. The foremost cub eyed him hesitantly.
“We’re going to be sacrificed.”
His voice turned into a growl as Minnow felt a pang in his heart.
“That stupid Grave Hill Tribe will have us all killed if it means saving their land from the curse.”
The three [Lion Beastman] cubs lowered their heads, dejected. The Elf couldn’t help but sympathize with their situation— and that was why he hushed them, speaking as gently as he could.
“I know, I know. But just trust me.”
They exchanged confused glances. Then the caravan suddenly ground to a halt. The entire cage shook. There were shouts— screams. The cubs blinked, confused. And he winked at them.
“Everything will be fine.”
After all, there were a lot of things a Level 115 [Necromancer] could do.
“We’re under attack!”
Nalok raised his head. The [White Tiger Beastman]’s eyes narrowed as he halted in his feet. He turned around, looking at the procession grind to a halt. He drew a scimitar and growled.
“What’s going on?”
A [Leopard Beastman] ran up to him, answering as he panted.
“Great Chieftain Nalok! We’re under attack by undead!”
“What?”
Nalok frowned. Just undead? That sounded ridiculous to him. He was Level 135, and his tribe was full of warriors. Great fighters, even if they lacked in numbers compared to other tribes. They averaged at Level 40, with many of them reaching up to Level 70.
“Deal with them. A few [Skeletons] and [Zombies] shouldn’t be any trouble for the Grave Hill Tribe.”
He snarled as he turned around. The [Leopard Beastman] bowed and quickly started off. Nalok shook his head and sheathed his blade. Waste of my time. But a voice drew his attention. A white-haired creature, carried in a cage to his right.
“When did you become so cruel, Nalok?”
Tuktox, the eldest of the Furious Whispers Tribe, was locked up in a special cell. He was an [Ape Beastman]. Old and wizened. He bowed his head, a look of melancholy on his face.
“I had thought your Nakog raised you better.”
Nalok’s brows snapped together. That irritated him. What else annoyed him was the fact that he could still hear the fighting in the background.
“Don’t you dare speak about my father like that. He raised me to be a great warrior. And that is what I have become.”
The [White Tiger Beastman] puffed up his chest. Tuktox closed his eyes.
“So why do you do this? Why betray the peace between our tribes? Why attack us now?”
“I told you, didn’t I? The [Witch] said so. She saw it in a vision. The curse shall destroy our land if we don’t offer it a thousand sacrifices.”
“And you believe that [Witch]’s mad claims? Where is the [Witch] now, Nalok?”
Tuktox asked, baffled. Nalok snorted as the commotion in the background continued.
“The [Witch] waits for our return. She will oversee the ritual. Now silence. I do not want to hear your chatter any longer.”
“You have fallen so far if you truly think that shedding the blood of innocents will save your tribe.”
The [Ape Beastman] wept. But the Great Chieftain of the Ghost Hill Tribe ignored him.
“The weak will always fall prey to the strong, Tuktox. You know that as well as I do.”
Nalok shook his head. He turned away, shouting as the fighting still continued.
“Deal with those damn undeads already!”
However, the same [Leopard Beastman] came running up to him, covered in blood.
“Great Chieftain!”
“What is it, Swifttail?”
Nalok crossed his arms.
“The prisoners— they are escaping!”
“What?”
“First, cause a ruckus. Then sneak out when they’re distracted—”
Clink. Minnow smiled as the last of the chains fell to the floor. He heard the bending of metal. He looked to the side and watched as the [Wolf Beastmen] broke their way out of the cage. The Elf shook his head.
“I told them to wait… whatever.”
He got to his feet, proffering an arm for Mountaintooth. The [Lion Beastman] cub got to his feet, wide-eyed.
“How’d you do that?”
“Well, a good [Necromancer] should always be able to make the best use of whatever he has.”
Minnow held up a bit of bone. It was the meal they’d been served yesterday, but morphed into a makeshift key. Mountaintooth’s eyes went round.
“Come on.”
He ushered the last of the prisoners out of the tent. They leapt out, immediately faced with fighting. The [Wolf Beastmen] that had already escaped were battling with the guards— [Cheetah Beastman], [Tiger Beastman], and [Leopard Beastman].
Even though the Grave Hill Tribe had stronger fighters, many of their men had sallied forth to face the horde of [Zombies] Minnow had called to his location. And while the [Zombies] themselves weren’t strong, mixed amongst them were more powerful undead.
A [Tiger Beastman] from the Grave Hill Tribe ripped a [Wolf Beastman] apart before impaling through a [Bear Beastman]. She turned to Minnow. The cubs following him backed up. He stood steadfast as the [Tiger Beastman] leapt forward—
And a twisted hand grabbed her out of the air. She blinked.
“What—”
[Draugr - Lvl. 105]
The [Draugr] tore her apart as she screamed. Mountaintooth and the other cubs stumbled back in terror, but Minnow ushered them forward.
“Don’t worry, that’s mine. Now let’s hurry.”
They ran past his [Draugr] as it leapt into battle. But Mountaintooth wasn’t satisfied with that. He broke away from Minnow as the Elf blinked.
“What are you doing?”
“We need to free the other prisoners! We can’t just leave!”
The Elf looked around at the fighting. It was clear that the tide was already turning. Even with his undead, they wouldn’t be able to beat this tribe. They were high-leveled, and they’d regain control soon enough. He could only help some of them escape.
But Mountaintooth didn’t want to do that.
“Don’t—”
Minnow raised a hand. And a foot struck Mountaintooth before he could get any further. The cub yelped as he went flying, and the Elf’s eyes grew wide.
“Did you weaklings really think you could escape?”
Nalok, the [White Tiger Beastman], and Chieftain of the Grave Hill Tribe barred their path. His eyes glinted as his gaze fixed on the [Necromancer]. Minnow felt a chill run up his spine.
“Pathetic.”
He brought his paws to the side as his claws revealed itself. He started forward, approaching the doubled-over Mountaintooth. He picked up the boy as the other cubs gasped. Minnow stopped them from intervening.
“If you really want to die so badly, then so be it.”
Nalok raised a claw up as Mountaintooth struggled. The Elf’s eyes went round, and he stepped forward.
“Don’t do it—”
But before the [White Tiger Beastman] could killed the cub, there was a screech. A terrible cry that ran through the flatlands. A vast figure flew overhead as heads turned. Minnow rubbed his eyes, blinking at the winged beast passing over. Nalok dropped Mountaintooth and tensed.
“Is that… a Wyvern?”
Minnow himself leaned forward as he saw three figures move away from the Wyvern’s back. They hovered there as the Wyvern stopped moving… getting larger. And the realization settled in.
“It’s diving straight down.”
Nalok himself stared in shock as the Wyvern sped to the ground. The sounds of fighting stopped, replaced instead by the panicked screams of Beastmen fleeing the diving Wyvern.
“Cowards.”
Clicking his tongue, the Great Chieftain of the Grave Hill Tribe got ahold of himself as he readied himself for the attack. He barely even glanced over at the Elf picking up the cub and running from the scene. Nalok just stood there, unafraid.
“A [Lesser Wyvern]...”
He’d heard tales of this terrible monster. His father had regaled stories of slaying [Lesser Wyverns] before. They’d used to go hunting near his tribe’s grounds, but his father managed to fend them off and ensure they never returned. This was… finally his chance to prove himself as his father’s better. The [White Tiger Beastman] leapt atop a tent flap and bellowed.
“[Call of the Hunt]! Face me, Wyvern!”
The diving Wyvern narrowed its eyes as it was about to crash into him, then suddenly halted. It flapped its wings, slowing and sending gales of wind, knocking down carts and tents and cages. It descended slowly until it faced him.
“That’s right, did you think you could get the jump on me? Only a prey leaves its back unguarded, and I am not a prey.”
He spread his arms wide as the Wyvern cast its gaze to the side, briefly looking over at Mountaintooth. Then it turned back to him as his body rippled with power.
“I am Nalok! The Great Chieftain of the Grave Hill Tribe! A [White Tiger Beastman]! I have slain my own father and risen to the top of my tribe!”
His body crackled. He stood taller, his fur growing out like blades. His stripes shimmered with a crimson aura. A mad gaze on his face.
[Strength of a Lion]. [Armored Body]. [Purity of Rage].
He smirked as he faced his opponent. The Wyvern huffed out smoke as it eyed him with a glare. Nalok bent over, cackling wildly.
“This is what I’ve been waiting for my whole life. This will be a battle told for generations to come! I will slay you, Wyvern!”
He leapt through the air and swung out with the crimson image of a tiger leaping after him.
“[Eye of the—”
And the Wyvern breathed.
“BURN.”
Nalok’s body locked up. He couldn’t move. His Skills were still in effect, but he was frozen in the air. And that cold grip over his body vanished as a warmth overwhelmed him.
His eyes widened as blue flames swept over his body like a wave. It inundated him. It burned straight through his defensive Skills. A powerful inferno that incinerated everything in its path. He tried to open his mouth to scream, but he still couldn’t move his jaw.
Then the flames turned white as he fell from the air. It burned hotter. His fur vaporized under the heat. The fire continued pouring even as he lay on the ground, entire body numb. Vision growing dark. Until, finally, nothing. No more sensation. No more follies. No more wants. No more pride. Just ashes.
And it was then, the flames stopped. The Wyvern drew back, snorting as the onlookers stared on.
“A battle told for generations to come? Are you serious? I’ll forget about this by next week.”
MelasD
Just an FYI, Minnow Fellingchamp was created in cooperation with Remus, as a part of the $15 patreon tier reward.
Start of the new month! Read up to 22/30 Salvos chapters ahead on my patreon and support my Webtoon!
Join my discord or subreddit.
Follow me on twitter or instagram.
400. Legendary Battle
Minnow Fellingchamp could feel the rumbling of the wagon as the caravan made its way through the flatlands. He sat in a cage, amongst dozens of other Beastmen, bound in chains.
Their heads hung low as they, their faces muzzled so they couldn’t bite and tear their way through the prison. Minnow, for one, wasn’t muzzled. It was quite odd, but that wasn’t the only oddity about him. He was, also, short— half the size of the [Wolf Beastmen]. He had white hair, and he wasn’t covered in fur like his cellmates. Also, he had pointed ears.
He was an Elf.
Now, it might seem odd that an Elf wasn’t in the Elven lands, considering that they were rather reclusive at times. Furthermore, it might seem even odd-er that an Elf had the name of a Beastman. But Minnow Fellingchamp hadn’t always lived here, nor had he always gone by that name.
His original name had been Bus’sin. He was born and raised in the Elven lands. In fact, he had been the son of a Principality. His father had been incredibly strict, forcing him to adhere to the Elven virtues without ever straying— even for a mere moment.
Unfortunately, that came with the side effect of fostering a fascination with the forbidden within him. So when his father enrolled him in one of the premier Elven academies for magic, he picked up… well, necromancy.
It went well at first— in the sense that no one found out about his dabbling with the undead. Necromancy was punishable by death in the Elven lands, but he kept his secret hidden. And no one would have if he hadn’t spilled the secret to his best friend who so happened to be his cousin.
What Bus’sin didn’t know then was that his cousin had been jealous of his status all this time, so he exposed the burgeoning [Necromancer]. Faced with death in his home lands, Bus’sin fled to the ocean— taking a ship and sailing far away.
He'd hoped to find refuge in the land of the Cyclops. Unfortunately, a storm washed him off course and he somehow found himself… here. In the Beastmen Plains. Where necromancy was not, in fact, frowned upon.
Here, he gave up his original name and picked up the name of Minnow Fellingchamp. Of the Fellingchamp Tribe. The tribe that took him in when he had nothing. He now traveled around the Beastmen Plains, hoping to spread the kindness he received from that tribe around.
And that was how he ended up in this mess. The Elf sighed as he cast his gaze around the cage. The [Wolf Beastmen] around him were growling, poking their heads out of the bars, but unable to break out. He’d been passing through the Furious Whispers Tribe, when he was embroiled in an inter-tribal conflict.
He wanted to help, but he wasn’t ready for the ambush that happened overnight. The entire Furious Whispers Tribe was caged and locked up, with its greatest warriors slain defending them. If Minnow had been better prepared, perhaps he could’ve done something…
He heard a sniffle come from behind him. He craned his neck. Three [Lion Beastman] cubs huddled together in the corner, tears in their eyes. Fear on their faces.
“...what’s going to happen to us, Mountaintooth?”
“I… don’t know…”
They whispered quietly to each other. Minnow bit his lower lip as he saw this scene. Taking in a deep breath, he approached them. They cowered back, but he offered them a kind smile.
“Hey, it’s going to be alright.”
He calmed them. They looked up at him— well, actually, they looked straight at him because he was around their height. Still, his soft words seemed to reassure them at least slightly. The foremost cub eyed him hesitantly.
“We’re going to be sacrificed.”
His voice turned into a growl as Minnow felt a pang in his heart.
“That stupid Grave Hill Tribe will have us all killed if it means saving their land from the curse.”
The three [Lion Beastman] cubs lowered their heads, dejected. The Elf couldn’t help but sympathize with their situation— and that was why he hushed them, speaking as gently as he could.
“I know, I know. But just trust me.”
They exchanged confused glances. Then the caravan suddenly ground to a halt. The entire cage shook. There were shouts— screams. The cubs blinked, confused. And he winked at them.
“Everything will be fine.”
After all, there were a lot of things a Level 115 [Necromancer] could do.
“We’re under attack!”
Nalok raised his head. The [White Tiger Beastman]’s eyes narrowed as he halted in his feet. He turned around, looking at the procession grind to a halt. He drew a scimitar and growled.
“What’s going on?”
A [Leopard Beastman] ran up to him, answering as he panted.
“Great Chieftain Nalok! We’re under attack by undead!”
“What?”
Nalok frowned. Just undead? That sounded ridiculous to him. He was Level 135, and his tribe was full of warriors. Great fighters, even if they lacked in numbers compared to other tribes. They averaged at Level 40, with many of them reaching up to Level 70.
“Deal with them. A few [Skeletons] and [Zombies] shouldn’t be any trouble for the Grave Hill Tribe.”
He snarled as he turned around. The [Leopard Beastman] bowed and quickly started off. Nalok shook his head and sheathed his blade. Waste of my time. But a voice drew his attention. A white-haired creature, carried in a cage to his right.
“When did you become so cruel, Nalok?”
Tuktox, the eldest of the Furious Whispers Tribe, was locked up in a special cell. He was an [Ape Beastman]. Old and wizened. He bowed his head, a look of melancholy on his face.
“I had thought your Nakog raised you better.”
Nalok’s brows snapped together. That irritated him. What else annoyed him was the fact that he could still hear the fighting in the background.
“Don’t you dare speak about my father like that. He raised me to be a great warrior. And that is what I have become.”
The [White Tiger Beastman] puffed up his chest. Tuktox closed his eyes.
“So why do you do this? Why betray the peace between our tribes? Why attack us now?”
“I told you, didn’t I? The [Witch] said so. She saw it in a vision. The curse shall destroy our land if we don’t offer it a thousand sacrifices.”
“And you believe that [Witch]’s mad claims? Where is the [Witch] now, Nalok?”
Tuktox asked, baffled. Nalok snorted as the commotion in the background continued.
“The [Witch] waits for our return. She will oversee the ritual. Now silence. I do not want to hear your chatter any longer.”
“You have fallen so far if you truly think that shedding the blood of innocents will save your tribe.”
The [Ape Beastman] wept. But the Great Chieftain of the Ghost Hill Tribe ignored him.
“The weak will always fall prey to the strong, Tuktox. You know that as well as I do.”
Nalok shook his head. He turned away, shouting as the fighting still continued.
“Deal with those damn undeads already!”
However, the same [Leopard Beastman] came running up to him, covered in blood.
“Great Chieftain!”
“What is it, Swifttail?”
Nalok crossed his arms.
“The prisoners— they are escaping!”
“What?”
“First, cause a ruckus. Then sneak out when they’re distracted—”
Clink. Minnow smiled as the last of the chains fell to the floor. He heard the bending of metal. He looked to the side and watched as the [Wolf Beastmen] broke their way out of the cage. The Elf shook his head.
“I told them to wait… whatever.”
He got to his feet, proffering an arm for Mountaintooth. The [Lion Beastman] cub got to his feet, wide-eyed.
“How’d you do that?”
“Well, a good [Necromancer] should always be able to make the best use of whatever he has.”
Minnow held up a bit of bone. It was the meal they’d been served yesterday, but morphed into a makeshift key. Mountaintooth’s eyes went round.
“Come on.”
He ushered the last of the prisoners out of the tent. They leapt out, immediately faced with fighting. The [Wolf Beastmen] that had already escaped were battling with the guards— [Cheetah Beastman], [Tiger Beastman], and [Leopard Beastman].
Even though the Grave Hill Tribe had stronger fighters, many of their men had sallied forth to face the horde of [Zombies] Minnow had called to his location. And while the [Zombies] themselves weren’t strong, mixed amongst them were more powerful undead.
A [Tiger Beastman] from the Grave Hill Tribe ripped a [Wolf Beastman] apart before impaling through a [Bear Beastman]. She turned to Minnow. The cubs following him backed up. He stood steadfast as the [Tiger Beastman] leapt forward—
And a twisted hand grabbed her out of the air. She blinked.
“What—”
[Draugr - Lvl. 105]
The [Draugr] tore her apart as she screamed. Mountaintooth and the other cubs stumbled back in terror, but Minnow ushered them forward.
“Don’t worry, that’s mine. Now let’s hurry.”
They ran past his [Draugr] as it leapt into battle. But Mountaintooth wasn’t satisfied with that. He broke away from Minnow as the Elf blinked.
“What are you doing?”
“We need to free the other prisoners! We can’t just leave!”
The Elf looked around at the fighting. It was clear that the tide was already turning. Even with his undead, they wouldn’t be able to beat this tribe. They were high-leveled, and they’d regain control soon enough. He could only help some of them escape.
But Mountaintooth didn’t want to do that.
“Don’t—”
Minnow raised a hand. And a foot struck Mountaintooth before he could get any further. The cub yelped as he went flying, and the Elf’s eyes grew wide.
“Did you weaklings really think you could escape?”
Nalok, the [White Tiger Beastman], and Chieftain of the Grave Hill Tribe barred their path. His eyes glinted as his gaze fixed on the [Necromancer]. Minnow felt a chill run up his spine.
“Pathetic.”
He brought his paws to the side as his claws revealed itself. He started forward, approaching the doubled-over Mountaintooth. He picked up the boy as the other cubs gasped. Minnow stopped them from intervening.
“If you really want to die so badly, then so be it.”
Nalok raised a claw up as Mountaintooth struggled. The Elf’s eyes went round, and he stepped forward.
“Don’t do it—”
But before the [White Tiger Beastman] could killed the cub, there was a screech. A terrible cry that ran through the flatlands. A vast figure flew overhead as heads turned. Minnow rubbed his eyes, blinking at the winged beast passing over. Nalok dropped Mountaintooth and tensed.
“Is that… a Wyvern?”
Minnow himself leaned forward as he saw three figures move away from the Wyvern’s back. They hovered there as the Wyvern stopped moving… getting larger. And the realization settled in.
“It’s diving straight down.”
Nalok himself stared in shock as the Wyvern sped to the ground. The sounds of fighting stopped, replaced instead by the panicked screams of Beastmen fleeing the diving Wyvern.
“Cowards.”
Clicking his tongue, the Great Chieftain of the Grave Hill Tribe got ahold of himself as he readied himself for the attack. He barely even glanced over at the Elf picking up the cub and running from the scene. Nalok just stood there, unafraid.
“A [Lesser Wyvern]...”
He’d heard tales of this terrible monster. His father had regaled stories of slaying [Lesser Wyverns] before. They’d used to go hunting near his tribe’s grounds, but his father managed to fend them off and ensure they never returned. This was… finally his chance to prove himself as his father’s better. The [White Tiger Beastman] leapt atop a tent flap and bellowed.
“[Call of the Hunt]! Face me, Wyvern!”
The diving Wyvern narrowed its eyes as it was about to crash into him, then suddenly halted. It flapped its wings, slowing and sending gales of wind, knocking down carts and tents and cages. It descended slowly until it faced him.
“That’s right, did you think you could get the jump on me? Only a prey leaves its back unguarded, and I am not a prey.”
He spread his arms wide as the Wyvern cast its gaze to the side, briefly looking over at Mountaintooth. Then it turned back to him as his body rippled with power.
“I am Nalok! The Great Chieftain of the Grave Hill Tribe! A [White Tiger Beastman]! I have slain my own father and risen to the top of my tribe!”
His body crackled. He stood taller, his fur growing out like blades. His stripes shimmered with a crimson aura. A mad gaze on his face.
[Strength of a Lion]. [Armored Body]. [Purity of Rage].
He smirked as he faced his opponent. The Wyvern huffed out smoke as it eyed him with a glare. Nalok bent over, cackling wildly.
“This is what I’ve been waiting for my whole life. This will be a battle told for generations to come! I will slay you, Wyvern!”
He leapt through the air and swung out with the crimson image of a tiger leaping after him.
“[Eye of the—”
And the Wyvern breathed.
“BURN.”
Nalok’s body locked up. He couldn’t move. His Skills were still in effect, but he was frozen in the air. And that cold grip over his body vanished as a warmth overwhelmed him.
His eyes widened as blue flames swept over his body like a wave. It inundated him. It burned straight through his defensive Skills. A powerful inferno that incinerated everything in its path. He tried to open his mouth to scream, but he still couldn’t move his jaw.
Then the flames turned white as he fell from the air. It burned hotter. His fur vaporized under the heat. The fire continued pouring even as he lay on the ground, entire body numb. Vision growing dark. Until, finally, nothing. No more sensation. No more follies. No more wants. No more pride. Just ashes.
And it was then, the flames stopped. The Wyvern drew back, snorting as the onlookers stared on.
“A battle told for generations to come? Are you serious? I’ll forget about this by next week.”
MelasD
Just an FYI, Minnow Fellingchamp was created in cooperation with Remus, as a part of the $15 patreon tier reward.
Start of the new month! Read up to 22/30 Salvos chapters ahead on my patreon and support my Webtoon!
Join my discord or subreddit.
Follow me on twitter or instagram.
