After their cab ride ended, Apophis and Antanria finally arrived at the Royal Palace of Terra, the finest hotel on the planet!
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Compared to the planet-wide city itself, the hotel was relatively small. Compared to the real world, however, it occupied as much space as a small city! The unimaginable luxury destination employed more than a hundred thousand people and robots, mixing new and old styles to accommodate every taste and desire.
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The hotel dated back to the time of the Zetark Empire, making it one of the oldest hotel complexes in the galaxy, and it made every effort to cultivate an atmosphere matching its reputation.
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Antanria and Apophis arrived at the receptionist's office in a pitiful state. They smelled of body odor and filth because of their imprisonment, and over fifty robot butlers who served as a first line of security looked down their noses at the two.
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The receptionist glanced at the security guards, as if asking them to escort these bums outside. When Apophis approached, the receptionist said with contempt, "I'm sorry, Sir! We don't have any more rooms!" As far as he was concerned, the mere presence of these two stained the presence of the hotel!
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Apophis didn't protest. The receptionist was completely beneath him, and he just wanted to get his room and be done with all of the people around him.
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He set 100,000 GC on the desk and said calmly, "Good afternoon. I need your best suite for three nights."
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The receptionist—who only made 3,300 GC in a month, an excellent salary—wanted to die of shame and terror! Most big customers made online reservations to avoid having to talk to lowly staff. For such obviously important guests to show up and demand the best while looking like bums was unheard of!
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"My apologies," said the receptionist, trying to recover quickly. "It must be that you are the gentleman for whom we had set that suite aside. Do you require anything else, Sir?"
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Apophis didn't say another word but only glared at the receptionist while he nervously entered information into the computer.
***
The room was beautiful and spacious, over a thousand square meters in area. And of course, it gave access to the hotel's many luxury services: jacuzzis, saunas, massages, artisan chefs, escorts, and more than a hundred other luxuries!
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Despite this wealth of options, Apophis and Antanria went directly to bed. Apophis warned Antanria that he'd be asleep for two to three days, gave her 10,000 GC in cash, and then went to bed.
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Then, once he was settled, Apophis disconnected from the game.
***
ORC DEFENSE BASE
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Not long after the Federation planned their attack under Grand Admiral Azerof's lead, another war council took place… that of Great Warlord Regnier.
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Regnier, unlike Azerof, was a Rank-A Ascensionist in addition to a great military commander! Among the Orc Empire's military, only competence mattered—that meant strength and intelligence enough to outperform one's peers and enemies.
pαпᵈα-noνɐ1·сoМ .
The Orcs were proud of their meritocracy, their tradition of following a leader who proved himself in battle, rather than because they were appointed through politics!
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Regnier was cunning and powerful, but his greatest distinguishing feature was the aura of mystery that surrounded him.
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He was actually not an Orc, but a humanoid xeno with an appearance very close to that of a human. His skin was black-gray, and a mask covered his face.
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Many Orcs believed Regnier was the spawn of the dark gods or of demons, but no one knew the truth. All anyone knew for certain was that he had served the Orc Empire throughout the reigns of different Orc emperors for a whole century!
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Regnier was one of the greatest warlords in the history of the Orc empire and had fought in over a thousand space wars, conquering hundreds of solar systems for the Orc Empire.
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In contrast to the Federation war council, silence reigned in the Orcish war room.
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Regnier calmly explained his plan to the hundred Orc commanders, and they respectfully listened.
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"According to our newest intelligence, the humans are preparing to attack our fleet within the week—a surprise attack, they believe. Their combined fleet, drawing upon Lizardman and Elvish reserves, remains numerically still inferior to our own forces.
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"Their firepower is likely superior to our own fleet's—early war games suggest this—and the alpha strike they are planning would allow for the greatest use of this advantage.
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"Our strategy, then, is to concentrate our firepower on the Elvish and Lizardman forces. These nations pledged their troops under the belief their presence would deter us, and they are not prepared to sacrifice their lives for the sake of the humans. They will turn and flee when they realize the danger.
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"However, the humans must open fire first! 'They' must be the ones to start this war! This is a direct order from the Emperor. Glory to the Empire! Glory to the Emperor! Glory to Khorne!"
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Every officer present repeated this last line over and over. "Glory to Khorne! Glory to Khorne!"
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Two Orc soldiers stepped out from the shadows, bringing a gagged human prisoner to his knees before Regnier.
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With one clean movement, Regnier plunged his fingers into the man's chest and ripped out his still-beating heart.
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The human collapsed without even having time to understand what killed him.
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Regnier whispered the profane words of an ancient ritual, and the heart ignited with dark red fire as a terrible voice thundered from the fire and reverberated throughout the room!
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"Khorne accepts this sacrifice of blood! You will be victorious, Regnier! Your enemy's blood will flow, unceasing, and Khorne will drink it all!"
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The Orcs clasped fists to their chests and howled their warmaster's name, chanting in rapturous glee. "Regnier! Regnier! Regnier!"
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