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... di clan.

It was a rare night. One without war drums, without hunting cries, without the stench of human blood on the wind. The orc camp pulsed with quiet, peaceful life. Fires burned low as the chieftain, Grukk Ironjaw, sat cross-legged outside his hut, cradling something far more fragile than any axe or blade.

A child. His newborn son.

The boy was small — his skin pale green, eyes barely open — and for the first time in many winters, Grukk felt something other than hunge ...

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Originally believing he had picked up a beauty he returned home to prepare a golden house, but on the contrary he was the one being pushed down……someone once said, whether it is people or matters, by no means can you only look at the surface!

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Guard: ? ? ?

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Rong Qing knew from a young age that she was different, that she was too hostile, and that she always wanted to get close.

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