"Clan Leader, the trade meeting is about to begin, why call us over now?" Inside Bertel's tent of the Gru Tribe sat a group of Orcs, with Bertel himself lazily lounging in the center.
Summoning his strength to sit up, he glanced at the few tribesmen below him, "This competition didn't go too well for our tribe, I'm afraid we won't be able to retain our position as the number one trading tribe."
A few Orcs looked at each other, thinking Bertel was going to berate them, they hurriedly stood up and nervously said, "Clan Leader, we really did our best in this competition, but there are too few evolved Orcs in our tribe. The other tribes had evolved Orcs and with you injured and not participating, it led to our downfall..."
What Bertel hated most was hearing this kind of talk. Didn't these old fellows think he consumed two Beast God Fruits without sharing just because he felt like it?
