Free Web NovelChapter 13: The Alpha’s Tribute
Nym’s words about the big opportunity lingered in the quiet space between them. The idea of the cavern left under defended kept turning over in Ruk’s head. He understood this was more than just useful information. Nym was testing him, watching to see if he had the nerve and the smarts to turn it into something real.
The next morning the whole cavern buzzed with noisy activity. Warriors moved around sharpening weapons, packing supplies, and trading rough jokes. Bor’s pride still stung badly from the humiliation in the fighting pits. He turned his departure into a loud show, gathering a dozen of his toughest loyal fighters along with a group of boot-licking followers who owed everything to him. They carried the best gear the clan had—sharpened bone spears that gleamed at the tips, heavy stone axes with solid grips, and thick shields wrapped in worn leather. Bor himself gripped a massive two-handed club, its head made from a jagged chunk of obsidian that caught the firelight and sparkled with dark threat.
"We go to the deep places!" Bor’s voice boomed through the cavern, echoing off the high stone walls. He stood tall, chest puffed out, trying hard to scrub away the shame from the pits with this bold display of strength. "We will hunt the great beasts hiding in the darkness! We will drag back a kill worthy of the Black-Tusk name! A kill worthy of our Alpha!"
He shot a hard glare toward Grummok, who sat lazily on his throne of piled stone and thick furs, gnawing on a strip of dried meat. The Alpha only gave a low grunt in response. It could have meant approval or it could have meant nothing at all. Grummok rarely cared about the chest-pounding of his underlings, as long as fresh meat kept coming in and no one openly challenged his rule.
Ruk watched everything from a safe shadow near the edge. He quietly used his ANALYZE skill on the warriors Bor had picked. They looked strong, no doubt about that, but they mirrored their leader perfectly—arrogant, too sure of themselves, and missing any real cleverness. They were blunt tools, and Bor was about to take them swinging blindly into the dark tunnels.
As the war party finally marched off into the deep tunnels, their heavy footsteps fading into the distance, a strange quiet settled over the cavern. It felt unnatural. The loss of so many strong fighters had created an empty space in the usual power balance. The remaining warriors looked unsure of themselves. Their normal swagger had faded, replaced by restless unease. No one seemed certain where they stood anymore.
This was the exact moment Ruk had been waiting for. The opening Nym had pointed out to him. He had no plans to waste it.
He didn’t step forward with any loud challenge or start a public fight. His move was quieter and much smarter. He decided to skip the entire warrior ladder and go straight to the only power that really counted in the clan.
He would bring a tribute to Grummok.
In the rough, straightforward life of the Black-Tusk Clan, male orcs usually gained power in just one way—through raw strength. Fight hard, dominate others, kill when needed, and take what you wanted by force. That was Bor’s path, the one most followed. frёewebηovel.cѳm
The second path was almost forgotten, like an old overgrown trail hardly anyone remembered. It was the path of the provider. Bring the Alpha a gift so valuable and so unusual that it couldn’t be ignored.
Something that raised the giver from lowly scavenger to someone respected, not for his fists, but for his sharp mind and useful contributions.
Ruk had prepared his tribute carefully.
Over the last two days he had risked everything to gather it. He returned to the dangerous heartstone chamber and didn’t just chip away a few pieces. Using his flint knife with slow, precise strikes and pure stubborn determination, he had dug out the entire glowing cluster. It was a rich treasure of pulsing crimson energy, warm and alive with geothermal power.
But he didn’t stop there.
He had pushed even deeper into the tunnels than before, into places where the air grew thin and cold and the mountain above seemed to press down with groaning rock.
There he found new, far more dangerous prey—the Crystal-Claw Scuttler. A creature made of living stone, its body covered in beautiful yet terrifying patterns of razor-sharp quartz crystals. It moved fast and attacked without warning. Those claws could slice through thick leather and flesh in one swipe. ƒreewebɳovel.com
His first meeting with the beast nearly ended him. He had underestimated its speed. The creature raked four deep gashes across his chest, sending hot blood running down his skin. Pain burned like fire as he retreated into the shadows, heart hammering. The close call reminded him how easily he could die down there. But Ruk refused to quit. He came back later, calmer and more focused. His ANALYZE skill gave him the crucial details he needed.
[Target: Crystal-Claw Scuttler]
[A territorial predator that lives in mineral-rich deep tunnels. Its exoskeleton is highly resistant to blunt force trauma. Weakness: The soft, unarmored joints of its legs. A precise strike can cripple it.]
He spent long hours studying its movements, learning its attack patterns and timing. When the right moment came, he struck. Using his quick agility, he darted in low and fast. His flint knife became a blur as he sliced through the tendons in one leg. The creature stumbled, its heavy crystal armor suddenly a burden instead of protection. Ruk finished it cleanly, then activated DEVOUR. A powerful rush of fresh energy flooded through him.
He dragged the Scuttler’s body back to his hidden spot along with the heartstone cluster. It was a tribute fit for a king—rare glowing minerals full of inner fire and the fresh corpse of an exotic, deadly predator no one in the clan had ever seen.
Now the time had come to present it.
