[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/IsNXxtS.png[/img][/center]
And yet, as Salbjorg held up the Shard of Authority, the crystal began to disintegrate instead, glowing a bright crimson light before motes of that incandescence floated up towards the ceiling, dissolving one by one into a heaven beyond the reaches of this dungeon. So too did Zogi's own body, the skull-bashed corpse hovering slightly upwards as light built up and up and up within the dull green flesh, before it shot ceilingwards in a line of light, leaving nothing behind.

Perhaps that was the fate of all monsterkind. To die in darkness and to be removed in light. There was an irony to it, that the gods who ordained the destruction of a monster's home would nevertheless accept their souls in the afterlife, to perhaps be reborn in a form not so disdainful.

Thus was Zogi's lot, a selfless, self-serving creature and a ready-made grunt whom nevertheless truly cherished his companions, whose sacrifice was the true lynchpin that allowed the dungeon core to remain untouched, that allowed his fellow green comrade to remain unharmed.

There were once seven, and now, there were s-

[b]"Ey, boss!"[/b] From some shadow, a familiar silhouette emerged, nose as flawless as the day he was born. Slapping his potbelly heartily, Zogi sauntered back towards the others without even a hint of trauma from being fundamentally killed by a human child. [b]"You need 'em rocks busted up and walled up? Zogi's yer gob, see!"[/b] He flexed his other arm, which had no visual effect but indicated at least that he had functioning arms, unlike some of the more armless individuals present. [b]"Just lemme at it! I'll roll up a coupla mugs ta back me up and we'll knock a shiny new cave out lickety-split!"[/b]

-seven again, presumably.

Already, Zogi was approaching the pickaxes, dragging out a particularly small one to heft over his shoulders in a reliable, muscular manner.