Ambrose's lips twitched with a smile.
The orcs raised their weapons, each one glistening under the lights of the throne room. As for the orc king, he grabbed his halberd, swinging it over his head once before stepping down from his throne.
"Your people have left you here to face my wrath." He bellowed, flicking his tongue between his tusks. "I'd enjoy hearing your screams. Painting my gold and jewellery with your blood. I—"
Ambrose chuckled.
His head was lowered as he slowly let go of the straps keeping the team's backpack on him. He continued laughing, gradually raising his head again.
Only this time his eyes glowed with a fiery blue light. One that immediately made the orcs falter in their formation.
"You think I've been abandoned?" He sighed, shaking his head with pity edged in his voice. "Come on. You must've felt something off with me from the beginning. I saw the way you stared at me."
