Standing was painful, but the Overlord's arrival demanded that Ur persevere.
He was in a temporary worksite, while the massive tunneling machine stood idle a hundred meters away. It had clearly developed problems after that violent collision, and the mechanics were carrying out emergency repairs.
Guk had decided to break through upward from this place, so he was in no hurry to get the machine running again. Instead, he had established a camp here, in the area previously occupied by the demons.
Guards poured underground in an endless stream, preparing for the coming general assault, while the war on the surface grew ever fiercer. Every Ork was itching for a fight.
They did not merely crave a battle. They craved a slaughter.
They longed for the moment they took the city, when they could unleash all their violence.
But before that, Guk had to meet an unexpected group of people.
In the enormous hastily erected tent, Ur rose from the long bench in the corner. He stood straight, back rigid and head raised, his eyes fixed on the entrance.
Directly opposite him, Hagrid held exactly the same posture.
Neither of them had joined the Guards, but Guk had deliberately kept them at his side. It made Ur uncomfortable, but he could not resist.
Then that strange delegation entered.
Guk had chosen an extremely simple, practical place to receive them. A lacquered oval table with one broken leg stood surrounded by exactly twelve mismatched, filthy chairs. Clearly, this makeshift furniture had been scavenged from rubbish heaps in the sewers, while the cramped space forced the hulking Orks to remain standing.
There were no banners or displays of grandeur. The sole decoration was the smiling face of Gork's combined totem, set above the table and watching everything.
The message was plain: the