Bab 83: Got it!

At the back of the Dreadmaw Clan, a raucous laughter erupted from a small group of Orcs, led by Grashk and Grok'Thar, Volk's catacomb last time companions.

They stood tall, arms crossed, with wide grins plastered across their scarred faces as they eyed the massive Ground Bull stomping its hooves in the dirt.

"Look at that poor bull," Grashk chortled, his deep voice carrying over the murmurs of the gathered Orcs. "Doesn't stand a chance against Volk! It's like sending a rabbit to fight a mountain!"

"Aye!" Grok'Thar boomed in agreement, slapping his thick thigh with a resounding smack. "Volk's the strongest there is! This is a waste of time. Grounad's just delaying the inevitable!"

The other Orcs of the Dreadmaw Clan burst into hearty laughter, their confidence in Volk unshakable.

They knew something the other Orcs didn't—a secret advantage that had saved their lives countless times before.