The atmosphere in the cavern grew itchy and heavy, as though the very air was waiting for something to snap.
All eyes were on Volk, standing defiant before the assembled Orc clans.
His bold declaration was in the waiting, reverberating through the silence after his mighty roar.
The chieftains of the Bloodfang Clan, Ironhide Clan, Thunderstrike Clan, Stonefist Clan, Shadowclaw Clan, Fireblood Clan, and Frostbite Clan stood in disbelief, with their muscles taut with squirming tension.
Each Orc seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for someone to make the first move.
Then, with a growl that could shake mountains, the Bloodfang chieftain stepped forward.
"GurraaaaaAaAaAAAHHH!!"
His scarred, hulking frame moved with purpose, his blood-red eyes locked onto Volk.
The battle-worn marks on his body told the story of a veteran—one who had seen countless wars and survived them all.
