Nathan's footsteps made a click sound as they stepped against the hard yellow stone of the sixth circle. Ahead of him, Bjorn was leading the way. To his side was Emi. She'd been initially flustered, but now that they were actually approaching the soulbound town of the orcs, she looked extremely tense, like a mousetrap on the verge of exploding.

  He whispered into his shoulder. "Lily, you there?"

  "Always." She yawned. "Though I'm a little bit tired."

  "I have a request for you, but you're not gonna like it," he said.

  His shoulder shifted around on its own. "What do you need me to do?"

  "I don't know if they have the ability to detect extra lifeforms—it would look bad if I snuck you in. Besides that, I want you to keep an eye on my town and make sure nothing goes wrong. In case this meeting goes badly, I'll be counting on you to be protecting my soulbound town."

  She didn't say anything for a bit.

  "You're right, I don't like that," she said."

  "Please?"

  A long sigh filled his ear. "Fine."

  His wooden arm extended out toward the ground. He saw Lily's flower head snake its way down into the ground. It brushed against the brick, fully committed and burrowed into the stone.

  He watched the spot where she disappeared, then shook off his worry and continued walking.

  With that taken care of, he turned his attention back to Emi. Her shoulders were still tense and her eyes looked a little bit shaky.

  "What's going on?" Nathan asked.

  "No, you know—" She gave a strange laugh. "Just going into the homeland of my ancestral enemy. Nothing too bad."

  "Are you scared?"

  "A little." Emi's eyes sharpened to a narrow point. "But I'm more scared of what I'm going to do once I get there."

  "I have full faith that you'll manage to keep it together."

  She looked at him with a smile. "I know you do. And I'm grateful for that. It's just . . ."

  The smile slipped off her face and was replaced with a tight frown.

  "This might be my chance to get answers. Who ordered the hit on my family? And what should I even do if I find out?"

  Nathan's gut clenched. He should've told her the truht before she ever agreed to this. What was he thinking?

  His mouth went dry. "Emi, there's something I need to—"

  "We're almost there," Bjorn said. "Guards up."

  Nathan's jaw clamped shut. Emi shot him a quick look of concern before a neutral expression was pasted onto her face. Her shoulders drew back, her spine straightened, and it was like she had been replaced with a completely different person. A cold, imperial royal with a heart of stone.

  Nathan figured that if that was what she had deemed to be the best outcome, he should probably follow along. He smoothed over his expression and straightened his own back. Of course, he didn't look quite as fancy as Emi, but this would probably be enough.

  Ahead, four orc guardsmen were standing straight and watching them with wary eyes. Bjorn came up to them and nodded.

  "This is Nathan Lee," Bjorn said. "He's come to participate in the 376th Diet."

  One of the orcs' nostrils flared. "Bjorn, what madness are you saying? You know that outsiders are not permitted."

  "Several members of my squad owe him their lives. He's been made an honorary orc according to the old customs."

  The orc who had spoken earlier widened his eyes to the size of dinner plates. He was silent for a full minute before he nodded.

  "I understand," he said. "I'll send the word and make sure that you aren't impeded."

  Another orc turned and looked at Emi. She'd drawn her hood up so that she wouldn't be recognized—at least until they got into the legislative building.

  "And what about her?" the other orc said. "Who is she?"

  "My guest," Nathan stepped forward. "I have that right as a representative in the upper house, don't I?"

  The orc frowned. "You're right. Just make sure she doesn't cause trouble."

  The two orcs stepped to the side and Bjorn marched forward. Nathan and Emi followed after him.

  Unlike the first quest hub, which Nathan's subordinates had turned into a sort of one-stop shop for anybody looking to find the next quest hub, the headquarters for the orcs was entirely different. There was a table at the front where a long line of orcs were putting their names on some sort of sign-up sheet. Each and every one of the orcs standing in line were perfectly straight and poised. There was a field hospital where dozens of pained groans could be heard. One thing that Nathan noticed was that nobody was alone. Everybody marched in pairs—and when he said marched, he meant it. No one walked normally. Each and every person moved with military precision.

  And in the center of all this was the soulbound town portal.

  Bjorn walked up to the portal and said something to a guard in front of it. The guard stepped to the side. Bjorn looked back at Nathan and Emi and waved at them to come on.

  The two marched forward in lockstep. Nathan gulped. He'd infiltrated other towns before, but that had always been as an attacker, or using stealth. Now, he was coming in with everybody fully aware of who he was and where he was. It was an entirely different situation.

  But there was no point in panicking. He marched forward and passed through the portal.

  Nathan felt his feet touch the ground. The first thing that greeted him was several Gothic-style buildings just in front. The houses had steep and dramatic arches. Stained-glass windows seemed to dot every other building. Gargoyles lined the posts of one of the buildings.

  It was like looking into a twisted mirror of the cleaner, more Hellenistic style of the elves.

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  "We spawn right into the middle of town?" Nathan muttered. "Why would they do that?"

  "There's no walls either."

  Nathan turned over to Bjorn, the person who'd spoken. "There's no walls?"

  "We have a different doctrine of warfare," Bjorn said. "History has taught us that holding onto territory, using structured fortifications—it tends to result in prolonged sieges that we end up losing. As such, we prefer to utilize tunnels and take advantage of the city itself as fortifications."

  "In other words, they fight like rats," Emi said.

  Bjorn glanced over at her. "The elves are actually the reason why we adopted the strategy. When they came back from the Nine Circles, they crushed our fortifications as if they were made of porcelain. It was decided that for the preservation of our species, we would have to completely change our method of battle. As it turns out, all the power in the world doesn't matter much with a knife in the throat."

  "That managed to work? You'd think after Nine Circles they'd be pretty much invincible."

  "But not against their own tools. Yes, our crude iron weapons couldn't lay a scratch on them. But the treasures that they'd taken from the Nine Circles were more than enough to finish the job."

  The conversation came to a stop, and Bjorn seemed to take that as an indicator that he should keep on moving. Before long, they reached a building in the center of town. It was square and box shaped, with ornaments like pillars and posts running up and down the sides to add some depth. The whole thing was colored a dirty gray, with the occasional splash of red to break things up.

  "This is it," Bjorn said. "Remember the plan. You're going to call for a vote of no confidence. Emi will reveal herself. Fenrir will try to challenge you to a duel—you'll have to take it. Anything else would be seen as cowardice. Either kill him, or at least stand victorious."

  Nathan nodded. "I understand."

  "Good luck, my friend," he said.

  Nathan shot him a small grin, then smoothed over his face back to the neutral expression.

  He walked into the building, Emi behind him.

  Nathan sat down in a seat in his personal booth. The entire room was composed of these booths, each of them with two seats. Emi took the seat next to him. Her hands were clenched on the fencing of the booth, knuckles white.

  He couldn't help but notice how not orc-like their buildings had felt like up to this point. Granted, he wasn't sure what he'd been expecting. Maybe . . . like, huts or something? But that was unfair. Orcs weren't like in the movies where they were just dumb brutes. Here, they were staggeringly intelligent. Sure, they were a bit military minded, but that didn't make them stupid or incapable of pretty architecture.

  The booths next to them started to fill up. A few orcs shot them confused looks, but turned their attention back to the center of the room. There was a stage with a podium—if Nathan had to guess, that was where Fenrir would be arriving.

  As if to prove him right, a door at the base opened up and Fenrir stepped forward.

  Unlike the last time Nathan had seen him, his skin had turned pale. He'd lost muscle and fat alike. Not enough to completely lose his threatening appearance, but enough to where it was clearly noticeable—maybe even a bit concerning.

  His eyes were wide and bloodshot, while his teeth had stains on them.

  More than a few orcs were staring at him with disapproving frowns. Fenrir didn't seem to mind. He marched up to the podium and grinned wildly.

  "My fellow orcs," he said. "We begin these proceedings, as always, with the speech from your chief. I thank all of you for your loyalty and bravery as we continue to march against the humans and the elves."

  Nathan could already feel himself falling asleep. Emi jabbed her elbow into his side and he straightened up.

  Right, he was here to do something.

  Fenrir had continued talking, but Nathan had long since ignored it.

  Nathan stood to his feet and held up his hand.

  Somehow, this simple motion caused the entire Diet to turn and look at him. Fenrir turned and glared. "What's the meaning of this?"

  "I call for a vote of no confidence," Nathan said.

  There was a beat of silence.

  The orc in the next booth over stood up as well. Nathan looked at him in confusion. The orc looked at the person next to him, jumped onto that person's booth, then slugged him in the face.

  Nathan stared at the picture.

  What just happened?

  A split second later, the entire diet broke into chaos, with orcs jumping into each other's booths and slugging each other in the face.

  Someone climbed up from below, their fist aimed for Nathan's teeth.

  Nathan was extremely confused, but he knew what a fight looked like. When the orc aimed for his teeth, Nathan reared back and delivered a solid sock right to the man's cheek. The orc flew off into the air and hit the ground with a thud.

  Nathan looked over at Emi incredulously. "You have any idea what's happening?"

  Emi shrugged. "Why are you asking me? I fight them, I don't analyze them. I don't know anything about orc customs." She paused. "I will say that this is far more in line with how I expected their government to be. I'm kind of confused as to how it wasn't like this already."

  "But they were so formal!" Nathan said. "They all walked around acting so disciplined, their soldiers were in perfect lines—why is everybody punching each other in the face? What does that have to do with my vote?!"

  There was a thud and a mass fell onto the railing. The limp body of an orc cracked through the wood railing and it fell onto the next booth below.

  The scream of an orc came closer to Nathan's ear like police sirens. He turned to the left. A green fist was pointed directly for his face. On instinct, Nathan punched the orc in the nose. The poor guy went tumbling off to the side and into a wall, creating a perfect, orc-shaped crater.

  His eyes quickly rotated in a circle. Where was Bjorn?

  He poked his head over the railing and looked down toward Fenrir. The orc was single-handedly fighting off five other orcs with a table leg that he'd seemingly materialized from nowhere. He used the table leg and slammed it into an orc's head, shattering the wooden object into splinters. The orc fell like a sack of potatoes a second later.

  "Nathan!"

  Nathan's eyes shot in the direction of the voice. Bjorn had two orcs both locked in chokeholds.

  "Bjorn," Nathan ran over to the edge of the booth. "What on earth happened?!"

  "What do you mean what on earth happened?!" Bjorn shouted. "You called for a Shaggath-Til!"

  "What's a Shaggath-Til?!"

  "The closest translation is bar fight, but—"

  "When did I do that?!"

  Bjorn dropped both orcs to the ground. He raised his hand up in the same motion that Nathan had done.

  Instantly, the fight stopped and several people looked over and pointed at Bjorn. Several nodded approvingly while a few had the same irritated expression that Nathan had whenever one of his subordinates would do something particularly stupid.

  Four orcs jumped up toward Bjorn, each with a different weapon. One person had torn off the railing of their booth, another had taken the chair, and the fourth had taken off his shirt, holding it like an improvised chain weapon.

  Nathan ignored the massacre that was about to occur and looked over at the palm of his hand.

  "How on earth was I supposed to know that raising your hand means that you want to have a bar fight?" he muttered to himself. "Not only that, but how was I supposed to know that the highest governing body of their entire people were apparently fine with that being completely normal?"

  There was a pat on his back. Emi nodded at him.

  "If you try to understand orc custom logic you're only going to go crazy."

  Nathan looked around in a circle. The fight had no signs of dying out. "What are we supposed to do now?"

  "I guess we just participate," Emi said. She cracked her knuckles and a devilish grin appeared on her face. "I've been wanting to get some revenge on these bastards for what they've done."

  A droplet of sweat rolled down Nathan's neck. He suspected that there would be far more than a few broken bones if Emi was allowed to participate.

  "You know what?" he said. "Just leave it to me."

  "Are you sure? Seriously, I'd be happy to—"

  He put both his hands on her shoulders and she stopped talking. "Really, you've done enough just by showing up."

  She pried his hands off and coughed into her fist.

  "When you put it like that," she said, "I guess I can go along with it."

  Nathan nodded at her, then jumped over to an empty booth where there were two orcs who were collapsed into each other on the ground.

  A plan hatched in his head. A way to fully integrate himself and become top dog in a split second.

  "Hey!" he shouted at the top of his lungs. "I bet you pansies couldn't take me on, even if you all teamed up!"

  At that, a dozen orcs stopped their fighting and looked over at him.

  Nathan held up one hand.

  Then he held up another.

  Double bar fight.

  Nathan grinned. This was the best idea that he'd ever had.

  Suddenly, the entire orc diet went quiet.

  In the crowd, Nathan spotted Bjorn's face. There was a massive purple lump on his forehead, dozens of scratches all over his body, and marks around his neck that looked like they were made by a clothing item. He looked like he'd just fought off four orcs armed with extremely strange improvised weapons.

  "You fool!" he shouted. "You just challenged the entire orc diet to a one versus all!"