Orc Tyrant

"Boss."

A voice came from the skull on his staff used for emergency transmission, and the lower jaw of the skull continued to close with the voice, as if the decayed soundtrack still existed.

"He—he's here, we can't stop him."

Mogdrogen got up from the edge of his rune carving table and reached for his staff.

"Understood, I will come right away."

He quickly walked through his private side hall, then went out and walked into the corridor of the Sun Palace.

The guards and the farts pushed and gave way to him. They either didn't know who he was and had no interest in looking at him, or they knew who he was and didn't have the guts to look at him at all.

The psionic boss gently walked across the colonnade, garden, and pond on soft straw sandals.

The guards of lower ranks gradually disappeared, and they were replaced by Ting Wei's silver and red figure, but no one would hinder his way-no one here knows his name and the meaning of that mask.

After he reached the overlord's bedroom area, the nerve boy who called him hurried over, with an apologetic face on his face.

"Boss—"

"Do not talk nonsense!"

Mogdrogen shouted sharply."

"Where is he?"

"Outside, Kundera couldn't stop him."

"Then you should have been called me!"

Mogdrogen walked faster, ignoring the tower-like totem poles, the low-pitched engine, and the flash of electric welding.

The craftsmen are transforming this palace and turning it into a fortress that is more in line with the taste of Ouk. Of course, this kind of transformation is also called destruction in human aesthetics.

After walking about two hundred meters, Mogzhogen found that he was already standing in the first door, and a group of court guards were confronting him.

"Why are you here? Grak, you should stay with your kid, the overlord's parade is about to begin."

Mogdrogen asked as politely as possible, because of his appearance, Kundera Ka who was nervous before finally breathed a sigh of relief.

He was still really not sure to stop this guffian army.

"I have a question for the boss, can't you?"

Mogdrogen put his skinny hand on Grak's back, trying to force him to leave, but he was not stupid enough to force him.

"Come with me, we need to talk."

Glak stared down at him, his scarred face etched with contempt.

"What are you? Have the power to order me."

He said, making his armoured hand into a fist,

"When I was fighting with the boss, you were still playing snakes in your mud den, Old Mo."

"You are right, but now, please leave for now."

"Why, don't I even have the qualifications to see the boss?"

Mogdrogen shook his head.

"It's not yet time."

After dismissing his duties as a warlord, Mogdrogen’s identity is now the "Mao Ge's voter" or "Mao Xuan" appointed by Guk, and his position in the Ouk country is equivalent to that of the prime minister of mankind, and it is second only to power. Yu Guk's existence, status even above the newly released "beast".

Glancing at the other person, perhaps because he was afraid of Mogdrogen's new identity, or didn't want to really conflict with the court guards, Glak still gave in.

After that, Mogdrogen led Grak back to his residence, which was a huge hall and spire overlooking the palace, and was once the residence of the chief wizard of the Benedictine Empire.

Prime Minister Oak spent some time and energy to transform this place into a style that suits his taste. Many of the alien bones he collected were fixed on the walls and corners, but Glak seemed to be indifferent to the things placed here.

The warlord just stood on the shiny marble floor, breathing like rough scratches.

"I want to see the boss."

"He is not free now."

"Where is he?"

"do not know."

Glak sneered at this.

"You know his every move, you know his every thought."

"No, I'm not that great."

Glak began to pace, like a beast trapped in a cage, kicking away all the furnishings in the way.

"I don't understand! I don't understand!"

"The military parade is about to begin soon. You have to take care of your boys. I heard that they have been constantly picking up blood-seeking boys recently. You know this is inappropriate..."

Glak turned to him, his eyes flashing with frustration.

"Does this make you unhappy? Or is it that you have been bought by that coward! Or do you think you can point your finger at me?"

Mogdrogen sensed that the face of his guest was on the verge of losing his mind, and wondered if it would get worse.

Most of the boys know the cruelest of this warlord, but few know that he is also the proudest, and it is absolutely forbidden for Ouke other than Guk to surpass him.

But now, there are two more at once, which is really easy for him to accept.

"The overlord has his arrangements."

Mogdrogen explained patiently:

"You each have different responsibilities."

"I don't know how many times my boss and I crawled out of the pile of corpses."

Glak whispered.

"We have fought a battle from a small tribe to the present."

The Goff warlord turned to look at the scenery, frowning at the direct light.

"Is it not as difficult as a jumper who can only fire a gun?"

His face twisted in pain, wrinkling the skin around his temples.

Mogdrogen tried his best to stop a sigh, and he knew it would be like this. Although he agreed with Guk's decision, the consequences were equally serious.

"This is intentional."

Mogdrogen responded:

"The East needs a relatively stable front. Beruf is more able to bear this responsibility than other warlords. You should know this... After this war, the shrimp in the east is no longer a concern. On the contrary, your quarrel will become more Big trouble, there are some I will explain later, but I hope you can understand that the overlord’s trust in you——'

Grak began to move, quickly unexpectedly.

He suddenly turned around, stretched out his hand armor, held Mogdrogen's neck and tightened it.

The psionic boss struggled and gasped, looking up at the face that was suddenly showing hatred, the warlord's armor still exuded the stench of dried blood.

"trust?"

Grak hissed:

"The kind that keeps me out of the door?"

For a moment, Mogdrogen was trying his best to find the right words.

Then, as suddenly as when grabbing him, Grak released his hand and snorted contemptuously when Mogdrogen was barely standing on his feet.

"You must think I'm stupid!"

He roared:

"A savage who doesn't understand anything can't walk the same way as those bells and whistles."

Grak's voice trembled with anger, but Mogdrogen had calmed himself down.

"You still can't figure it out?"

The psionic boss tried to ask, and Grak's glare was his answer.

"Very good, I wanted to show you this later... but maybe now."

Mogdrogen straightened his robe, then drew a roll of leather from his belt, unfolded it under Grak's curious gaze, and then shook.

"This is the overlord's secret order, I wonder if you read it, you will find this... very interesting."