"They actually dared to let us walk in armed."
Ola's fingers brushed the axe handle at his waist with seeming nonchalance. His hawklike gaze swept over the burly Orc Guards lining both sides of the hall, their eyes hostile.
Not a single barrier. Not a single search.
"Don't these hairy bastards have any concept of keeping their guard up?"
Caroline lifted the hem of her crimson velvet gown, her high heels clicking sharply against the scattered bones.
Her long silver curls gleamed like flowing mercury in the dim firelight, a stark contrast to the rough-skinned, tusked orcs around her-like a pearl dropped into a pigsty.
"Quite the opposite, Ola. Here, this is the highest form of vigilance."
Her voice was calm as still water, her emerald eyes fixed on the sinister throne ahead, built from countless interlocking behemoth tusks. "At the Bonecrush Throne, disarming guests during an audience is a sign of the host's cowardice. They believe a chieftain who can't keep a few pieces of iron under control has no right to sit on that pile of teeth."
She turned her head slightly, catching the Orc Guards' hostile looks from the corner of her eye.
"They aren't showing trust, Ola. They're showing strength-a strength so arrogant it lets potential fangs come within reach of its throat."
Behind them, Alex walked in silence.
Dark red Living Graft Armor covered his entire body, his eyes glowing like two burning embers beneath his faceplate.
Kale drifted along the edge of the group like a barely perceptible shadow.
A massive orc sat on the throne-Grom, the current high chieftain of the Court of Ten Thousand Beasts.
His skin was a sickly gray-green, and a vicious scar ran across his left eye. It was said to be a badge of honor earned in a