The Dragon King’s Harem System

Chapter 272. The Orc’s Downfall IV

Dragon King's Harem Chapter 272. The Orc's Downfall IV

Glasha's fierce gaze swept across the orc leaders gathered in the hall, her eyes ablaze with determination. 

"I am the one who placed the bracelet upon his wrist," Glasha declared, her tone firm and unapologetic. Her gaze pierced through the room, daring anyone to challenge her. "If there is blame to be assigned, direct it towards me. I am the one who has seemingly trampled upon the pride of our orc kin. I am the one who has placed the future king of the orcs under the command of the dragon king. If any among you have objections, then it is me you shall face!"

Her words hung in the air. A clear tension settled over the orc leaders. Glasha's resolve was evident, her willingness to bear the weight of their collective decisions displayed in her stance. There was an unspoken understanding, an acknowledgment of the sacrifice she was making for the sake of their tribe's survival.

The orc leaders, once filled with bravado and defiance, now lay in solemn resignation. Their eyes filled with whirlwind of conflicting emotions—sadness, anger, and disappointment. Their reluctant acceptance of the inevitable truth. They had initially let their pride and ego cloud their judgment, but now, faced with the harsh reality, they understood that there was no other viable option.

Amidst the heavy silence, the battle noises erupted from outside the hall, penetrating the thick walls. The clash of weapons, the thunderous footsteps, and the anguished cries of combatants reverberated, creating a dissonance. 

Glasha's eyes turned towards me, and at that moment, I could see the plea within them—a plea to end the violence, to put an end to the bloodshed that had consumed their people for far too long. 

"Since everything is settled," Glasha began, her voice carrying a mixture of determination and desperation, "Can we finally put an end to this war?" Her words held a flicker of hope, a yearning for peace.

With a sense of finality, I turned my attention to Burz, addressing him directly.

"Prince Burz," I called out, my voice carrying a tinge of both authority and understanding.

Reluctantly, he turned his gaze toward me, his eyes filled with a mixture of frustration, defeat, and a hint of unspoken emotions.

Gesturing towards him, I indicated that it was his duty to make the announcement. "After you," I stated firmly. Burz, as the defeated party, needed to acknowledge the outcome of the war publicly. It was a moment that required him to face his own defeat and accept the consequences.

Without uttering a single word, Burz reached for the battle horn that lay nearby. His hand trembled slightly, reflecting the emotions that raged within him. He brought the horn to his lips and a haunting melody escaped. 

The sound reverberated through the palace, symbolizing not only the defeat of the orcs but also the anguish and pain Burz carried within him.

It was an announcement and a proclamation of the orc's loss.

"Guillotine!" I commanded.

In response, Guillotine let out a mighty roar, a resounding proclamation of the dragons' triumph. It was a contrast to the somber melody of defeat that had just echoed through the hall.

Once Guillotine's roar reverberated through the chamber, it seemed to drown out the fading sounds of battle from outside. The cacophony of clashes, the cries of warriors, and the shrieks of wyverns began to recede, gradually giving way to an eerie silence. The air grew still, and the atmosphere shifted from one of chaos and conflict to a fragile calmness.

The absence of wyvern roars spoke volumes. It signaled that they had either retreated, acknowledging the orc’s defeat, or had ceased their assault. 

"Alright, now that everything's settled, it's time for me to claim what rightfully belongs to me," I declared, casting a gaze across the chaotic hall. 

The aftermath of the battle lay before me, a disarray of overturned tables spilled food and drink, and lifeless bodies scattered across the floor. The air was thick with the stench of blood mingling with the scent of burning and the remnants of perfume that once adorned the space.

Glasha's eyes widened in disbelief as she questioned my intentions. 

"Here? You plan to do it here?" she asked, her tone laced with incredulity.

I met her gaze with an unwavering resolve. " Yes. I won. I have the right to choose the location," I responded, making it clear that I would not be swayed by conventional expectations. It may have seemed unorthodox, even uncivilized, but this was the beast world we inhabited, and sometimes, one had to assert their dominance in unconventional ways. Also, the sooner, the better.

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