The group of Giant Golems let out a collective, synchronized sigh, their massive stone heads shaking slowly, like ancient trees in a weary wind.
"Spirits..." one grumbled low. "They just don't understand true Golem appeal! We are the peak of Golem perfection! Now, those Mountain Giants... they're the ugly ones. Little more than overgrown, mindless brutes."
"Couldn't agree more!" another rumbled in affirmation.
Listening to this back-and-forth, Renjiro couldn't suppress a smile.
This was good. It proved the Golems, his living siege engines, and the delicate Spirits weren't just unfeeling automatons built for destruction. They had distinct personalities, emotions, their own little squabbles and alliances.
He understood deeply that an empire built solely on mindless tools of war, no matter how powerful, would ultimately be hollow and cold. It needed these sparks of life, these individual spirits, to truly thrive.
"Your Majesty! How could you do this to me?!"
