Chapter 140 – The Orc Den
The trees thinned, and the stench hit them first. A clearing stretched ahead, and in it sprawled a crude orc encampment—a place that could barely be called a village.
Crude tents stitched from animal hides, sharpened stakes in disarray, and scattered fires smoking with half-burnt meat. The air was thick with sweat, iron, and rot. Dozens of orcs moved through the space with no discipline, no order.
Some brawled savagely over scraps, others smashed crude mugs and snarled at each other. Ethan's eyes narrowed when he spotted a pair coupling openly in the mud, grunting and howling as if the world outside did not exist.
Sixty… no, closer to Eighty. Most of them hovering around the strength of mid-level threats. Not weak enough to underestimate, not strong enough to ignore.
Lirael's lip curled. "Disgusting creatures… this isn't a settlement, it's a pit of filth." Her fingers flexed against her bowstring, itching to loose an arrow.
