The flames flickered slowly, giving off a distant warmth. Its glow illuminated the entire tent, casting light across the massive throne of bones within.
It was a strange sight inside the sealed-off war tent. At the center sat a human with long black hair and a crown upon his head. He wore armor that matched his crown—dark as the shadows surrounding him.
His eyes, exceptionally deep and dark, seemed to devour all the light that touched them.
And yet, that wasn't the strangest part. The real oddity came from the orcs kneeling before him.
It wasn't impossible for orcs to kneel to demons, yes. But to elves or humans? Highly doubtful.
It was easier to kill them than make them obey.
Yet here they were, kneeling.
In front was Iron, the war chief, as well as the cohort of former war chiefs he had defeated to earn the title. To the side were the tribe's shamans—bead-wearing orcs exuding magical energy.
Even they knelt.
