The cavern was a vast, shadowy expanse, lit only by the faint glimmer of the runes that adorned the walls.
The atmosphere of the catacomb was suffocating now, every Orc present holding their breath as they waited for what was about to unfold.
The sound of heavy boots echoed through the cave as the chieftains of all the Orc clans stepped forward, their eyes locked on Volk.
Volk stood in the center, his broad chest rising and falling steadily, his eyes glinting with cold amusement.
He began to stretch, his muscles rippling beneath his skin as he extended his arms and rolled his shoulders.
Kichick! Kichick!
There was an eerie calm about him, as though the battle that was about to begin was nothing more than a casual exercise.
"Finally," Volk said, his voice breaking the silence, "I can have a good workout."
The words, spoken with such confidence, sent a ripple through the crowd.