The assassin team gathered at the camp's edge. They were a rough bunch—scarred faces under mismatched helmets, armor patched with hides and metal scraps, and eyes hungry for violence.

The leader, a one-eyed brute named Krag, eyeballed Ethan as he approached, spitting a wad of chew on the ground.

"Where are your two mates, runt?" Krag growled. Garkash said I was getting three midgets."

Ethan shrugged, keeping his voice gruff to match the illusion. "They ate some rotten human meat back at the cliff. Fuckers have been farting and pooping for hours now. Their guts are probably twisted like old ropes. They'll catch up once they're done."

The assassins burst into guttural laughter, slapping their knees and nudging each other. "Hah! Runts can't hold their meat! Weak guts for weak bodies!"

Onga, a lanky Orc with missing teeth, cackled. "I bet they're squirting like fountains! Serves them right for eating fancy human slop."

Krag chuckled, waving it off with his axe. "You two!" he growled, pointing at two squat Orcs eating scraps. "You'll be the replacements. We can't wait for the others. We have to reach the white caves before nightfall. Let's move!"

They marched into the hills without delay. The group fell silent as they left the rave's glow behind. Stealth wasn't their strong suit, but the night was dark, and they stuck to shadows, weaving through boulders and sparse trees.

Ethan hung back in the formation, his Lvl 2 Stealth helping him blend even better. At times, the Orcs thought they lost him, but he was right behind them, experimenting with his stealth skill.

In a couple of hours, they reached the location. The white caves loomed ahead, a cluster of pale stone formations rising against a sloping hillside, looking like bleached bones.

Patrols guarded the entrances. The Orc assassins hunkered down behind a ridge of boulders, peering over. Krag whispered harshly, "We slip in real quiet-like, okay? We find the Queen's cave, drug her with the shaman's brew, and drag her out. Don't be fooled by her size; she is very strong."

The Orcs nodded, gripping their weapons tighter. Ethan saw his opening amid the grunts of agreement. "Let me go in first for recon. I'm short, light-footed, and can easily spot the guards. I'll find the Queen's cave and sneak back with a direct path layout."

The assassins muttered among themselves, eyeing him suspiciously. One snorted. "The runt thinks he's clever. Is he trying to escape?"

Krag rubbed his chin, his eyes squinting in an ugly manner. "Nah... the runt's got a point. He's small, which means he's harder to spot. Alright, then, I'll give you half an hour, shorty. If you don't come back, we will charge in swinging and you'll be a corpse along with them."

Dumb as they were, the Orcs grumbled but agreed, slapping Ethan on the back hard enough to bruise. "Don't get yourself killed too quickly, eh? Or do get yourself killed. We don't care."

Ethan nodded and slipped away into the dark. As he crested the ridge, he saw it was already nightfall. A familiar tingle ran through him. Beatrix's enchantment was dissipating at last.

His skin shifted back to human, and the Orc illusion vanished like mist. "Perfect," he muttered, activating Stealth Lvl 2 fully. His steps became near-silent. The boy's confidence in his skill was boosted as his form blended with the shadows as he approached the caves.

The white caves were more than they seemed from afar. Together, they formed a natural fortress. The entrances were clustered against the hillside like a honeycomb, each leading into twisting tunnels.

Braziers flickered at the mouths, casting orange glows. Orc guards patrolled in pairs, their spears and clubs at the ready.

Ethan waited in the shadows, timing their passes. When a gap opened, he darted in, hugging the wall of the nearest entrance.

The labyrinth unfolded within, with tunnels branching off to the left and right. Whispers echoed from side chambers—Orcs sharpening weapons, murmuring plans, grumbling sleepily, and others snoring loudly.

Confident in his Level 2 Stealth, Ethan pressed deeper, avoiding patrols and timing his moves with their footsteps.

The white caves were a real headquarters. They were organized with supplies stacked neatly, and maps and logistics etched on the walls. It differed greatly from the savage chaos of Garkash's camp.

After a few hits and trials, Ethan found what he was looking for. The central cave opened up into a larger chamber, with carpets and furs on the floor. Weapons were racked on walls, and a makeshift bed of blankets and pillows lay in the corner.

A single guard paced outside, but Ethan waited, slipping past when the Orc turned. Inside, the bed held a bundled figure, still under the covers. The Queen Orc?

With his heart pounding, he crept closer and approached the body. He took a deep breath and slowly pulled back the blanket.

"Huh?" he exclaimed in confusion. Ragged pillows were stacked under the blanket to mimic a person sleeping. A decoy! "Shit," he whispered.

Before Ethan could back away, arms locked around him from behind. A vice grip pinned his arms, while a sharp, cold knife was pressed to his throat.

The attacker spoke with acid in their voice. "You think you can sneak in and kill me so easily, assassin?"

Ethan froze, as recognition hit him like a wave. That voice was familiar, but it wasn't the time for a memory recall, but for a fight. He activated Ghost Hands. His phantom arms grabbed the attacker, pulling their arms off him.

The attacker stumbled back with a surprised gasp, and Ethan spun, ready to unleash a Grimoire spell. He could drop the Orc in lava or boil its skin alive.

Ethan froze as he saw her face in the brazier's glow. The high cheekbones, the sharp jaw, and the almond-shaped eyes. Most importantly, the beautiful ivory skin and the ashen-white hair.

Luka Voltha, his recent lover, stared back at him with equal surprise and shock.

"Luka?" he muttered in disbelief. "You... You're the Orc Queen?"

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