---
Another ant slapped her own forehead. "Can we please not flirt during public executions?!"
Azhara smirked. "Piss dancers. That's a new one. They are more savage than our savage rabbit clan."
Then, from the edge of the crater, a voice like drowned thunder cracked through the tension. The Frog-Man stepped forward, his face twisted in a way even mucus couldn't hide.
His red eyes bulged..His webbed fists clenched. Steam coiled off his shoulders as if he were boiling inside.
His servants… HIS WARRIORS… were groveling to his enemy. They were covered in piss. Begging for mercy. Confessing swamp-dancing while their master licked women's toes and ass.
And everyone… Everyone was laughing at him.
"I—" the Frog-Man snarled, "—trained you for ten whole seasons!" (ten years)
He stepped forward, each footfall splorching into the wet ground like a sledgehammer slapping meat.
