Free Web NovelChapter 14: The Alpha’s Tribute Part 2
Ruk dragged the heavy body of the Crystal-Claw Scuttler into the main cavern. Its razor-sharp quartz crystals scraped and screeched against the rough stone floor with an ear-grating noise that cut through every conversation. Heads turned from every corner. Warriors sharpening weapons froze mid-stroke. Females tending small cook fires straightened up. Even the young whelps chasing each other stopped their rough play and stared with wide eyes.
There, in plain sight, was the small, wiry orc everyone had always dismissed as "leftover meat." He was pulling a creature of strange, terrifying beauty right through the heart of their home. The Scuttler’s crystal-covered body caught the flickering torchlight and threw it back in dazzling, dangerous sparkles. Whispers rippled through the crowd as eyes widened in shock and curiosity.
Ruk didn’t pause for even a second in the center of the cavern. He didn’t bask in their confused stares or wait for their reactions. With slow, deliberate steps full of quiet purpose, he kept moving straight ahead. His shoulders stayed squared, his breathing steady. He walked directly toward the raised platform at the far end where the massive throne of piled stones and thick, worn furs stood.
He was walking straight toward Grummok.
A nervous hush spread fast across the entire cavern like cold water dousing a fire. Conversations died. The usual background noise of grunts, arguments, and clanging tools faded into heavy silence. No one — absolutely no one — ever approached the Alpha’s throne without being summoned. That raised area was a sacred circle of power, reserved strictly for Grummok and the few consorts he allowed near him. Crossing that invisible line usually ended with blood and broken bones.
Ruk could feel the weight of hundreds of eyes burning into his back. The fear in the air was thick. He sensed their growing disbelief as they realized they were about to witness something completely unheard of in the long, violent history of the Black-Tusk Clan. Still, he ignored it all. His jaw stayed set, his gaze fixed forward.
His entire world had narrowed down to the hulking figure lounging on that throne.
He stopped a respectful distance away — about ten feet from the base of the platform. Then, with a solid grunt of effort, he dropped the Scuttler’s heavy body. It hit the stone floor with a loud, echoing thud that seemed to vibrate through the sudden quiet.
Without hesitation, Ruk reached into his large leather pouch and carefully lifted out the glowing Heartstone cluster. He placed it gently on top of the creature’s crystalline corpse. The warm crimson light spilled outward immediately, bathing the area in a rich, bloody glow. It made the sharp edges of the dead Scuttler sparkle like living jewels and lit up the small but determined orc standing proudly before them.
Then Ruk did something no one in the long, bloody history of the Black-Tusk Clan had ever seen before.
He knelt.
He lowered himself smoothly to one knee, bowed his head deeply, and pressed a closed fist firmly over his heart. The gesture carried deep respect and open loyalty. It came from faint memories of his old life — a world of knights, kings, honor, and duty. In this brutal underground world, such a sign of voluntary submission felt completely foreign. Here, respect was usually ripped away by force, and submission was beaten into you until you broke.
"Alpha," Ruk called out. His voice rang clear, steady, and strong enough for every ear in the cavern to hear. It was the first time most of them had ever heard the small orc speak publicly. "I bring you a tribute, my Alpha."
Grummok had been watching the entire scene with lazy boredom at first. He expected some foolish challenge or a suicidal show of ambition from the whelp. But as his heavy brow slowly lifted, he took in the glowing crystals and the exotic creature at his feet. The Alpha rose from his throne with deliberate slowness. His enormous frame cast a long, dark shadow that completely swallowed Ruk.
Grummok stepped down from the platform and began circling the tribute. His wide nostrils flared as he sniffed at the strange new smells rising from the Scuttler. He poked at the glittering crystal armor with one thick, curious finger, testing its hardness. Then he reached out and touched the Heartstone cluster. A low, surprised grunt rumbled deep in his broad chest when he felt the living warmth pulsing inside it.
Finally, he turned his full attention to the small kneeling orc.
He loomed over Ruk like a mountain of muscle and raw menace. The sheer pressure of his presence felt heavy enough to crush bones. Yet Ruk stayed perfectly still, head bowed low, showing complete respect without the slightest tremble of fear.
Grummok reached down with one massive finger and gently tilted Ruk’s chin upward, forcing their eyes to meet. For the first time, Ruk didn’t feel the usual mind-shattering force of the Alpha’s will pressing down on him. Instead, he caught a flicker of genuine curiosity and interest sparkling in those hard eyes.
"You are the whelp they call ’meat’?" Grummok’s deep voice rolled out like distant thunder through the silent cavern.
"I am Ruk, Alpha," he answered, voice steady, eyes holding firm. "And I am your loyal servant."
Grummok remained silent for a long, heavy moment. The entire cavern seemed to hold its breath. Every orc waited, muscles tense. His next words or actions would decide the small orc’s fate. He could crush him for his boldness. He could simply claim the gifts and walk away. Or he could choose something no one expected.
"You have brought me a worthy gift, Ruk," Grummok finally said. He spoke the name loud enough for it to carry across the silent space. It was a small thing to outsiders, but to Ruk it meant everything — real recognition. "You have shown a cunning mind and a strong arm. You are no longer ’meat’. You are a provider... and you are mine."
Grummok turned to face the watching clan. His powerful voice boomed with absolute authority, echoing off the high stone walls. "This one is under my protection now. He hunts for me! He provides for me! His kills are my kills. His tribute is my tribute! Anyone who touches him or challenges him answers to me!"
The declaration landed like a king’s command. In one bold, audacious move, Ruk had leaped over the entire warrior hierarchy. He had completely bypassed Bor and the endless bloody fights for rank. He had placed himself directly under the Alpha’s unbreakable shield.
Ruk looked up at Grummok with real gratitude shining brightly in his eyes, mixed with his own cold, carefully calculated ambition. "Thank you, Alpha," he said, his voice thick with emotion that made it catch slightly. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm
Grummok gave another deep grunt that almost sounded pleased. His attention had already shifted back to the valuable tribute, his mind turning over the new treasures now belonging to him.
Ruk rose slowly and respectfully to his feet. He backed away from the throne with his head still slightly bowed in respect. He could feel the eyes of the entire clan following his every step, but the looks had completely changed. The old contempt and pity had vanished. In their place sat awe, a touch of fear, and most important of all — respect.
Across the cavern, he caught sight of Nym standing quietly in the shadows. She gave him a single slow nod, her eyes gleaming with quiet satisfaction. Their plan had worked. It had worked even better than they could have ever dreamed.
