Zul'gor stared at Nox's outstretched hand, his expression unreadable. The other orcs watched in tense silence, waiting for their shaman's decision.
"Is this your demand, human?" Zul'gor's voice rumbled like distant thunder. "I have seen your strength, your cunning… but do you truly believe we orcs would bow so easily?"
Nox smirked, wiping the blood from his lip with the back of his hand. "I don't expect you to bow. I expect you to rise—stronger than ever."
'Oh yeah, here we go again.' Nox felt like facepalming at his cringeworthy line, which had now become routine.
And quite frankly, he seemed to be getting used to it more and more.
Zul'gor's eyes narrowed. "Elaborate."
Nox took a step closer, his dark eyes gleaming. "Your clan is strong, but you lack guidance. You lack the means to evolve beyond what you are now. You fight and survive, but to what end? How long before stronger forces wipe you out?"
A murmur spread through the orcs.
