"Stay strong, don't let them pass!"

The soldiers, who were in danger of death with the arrows of the Sangre, were relentlessly loading the shield wall set up by the Orc warriors. Seeing that these arrows were the only attack weapons, Pigtail was constantly shouting to encourage his warriors.

"Alyon, would you like me to join the war? Nafız said.

Although the chief's thought was to use the battle as a test for his warriors, the casualties under these circumstances could have been far higher than he had anticipated. Alyon, knowing that Nafız wanted to go to war to complete the essence of blood he lost, had to plead not to risk the situation politely.

"Yes, seeing you fight in the front line as the chief of the warriors will give them morale. Please, don't waste the hearts of armored warriors."

Alyon, who spoke in the gentlest voice, was furious inside. Nafız would be angry if he talked to her sarcastically and could lose material that was so precious to his development.

"I disappear for a short time, and the warriors I have carefully trained are turning into losers."

Nafız, muttering to himself as if he were talking to himself, shot out at his warriors like a bullet. After this strange environment, Dimitri and Sasha turned their eyes to the battlefield. Knowing that the female orc Abarran had their weapons, the duo held their breath not to miss a second of the show.

The warriors on either side of the shield wall seemed tired from the day-long battle. In this struggle, which turned into a war of will, soldiers who had been subjected to harsh training for years were gradually taking the upper hand.

At these moments, a big surprise awaited the soldiers, who were determined to take the wind behind them.

"You trash cans! If you take a step back, I will punish you with my hand. "

The hearts of the warrior Orcs trembled as the high-pitched voice of Nafız reached his ears. When it came to the eyes of what they had done to those who did not obey their orders before, they supported their shields with all their might.

The Orcs lined up behind the shield wall, immediately after feeling something walking over them by pressing their heads, saw Nafız, who pulled her daggers and jumped into the crowd of soldiers.

Entering into the crowd, Nafız was moving like a fish in the water. Her blood-red daggers cut the armor that did not work with arrows and axes as a hot knife cuts butter.

Mora was chosen as the next leader of the Sacred Blood Sect. She had been trained in blood spells and melee since childhood. Although Nafız was not yet capable of using blood spells, she would become the Azrael of these soldiers with her melee skills and daggers.

Anton was surprised at what he had been through when arms and legs began to rise from where the orc had just joined the battle. Her soldiers wore alloy steel armor; how could this dancing Orc with daggers in her hands sever a limb with each blow.

"Redtail, you asshole! In your reports, it was written that this was a small and wild orc town. If it goes on like this, we will lose all our soldiers. Are you sure you can face the consequences of this?"

Realizing that Redtail lost his cools, the commander gave his order.

"Soldiers, retreat! Take a defensive position at the headquarters!"

Hearing Anton's order, the soldiers retreated as quickly as possible to save their lives. Nafız, who continued to kill the enemies who fled in the meantime, stopped attacking when her troop passed the ditches covered with rocks. Nafız did not hesitate for a second to kill the enemy who turned her back, as the memories she inherited said that mercy would return only as harm on the battlefield.

When about fifty soldiers returned from the unit he had sent, Anton's face turned red. The enemy had as many as a thousand warrior Orcs and almost three times as many tribal people.

He thought of the defensive mechanical vehicle behind the hill. He could save his life if he could make an opportunity and reach it.

Nafız looked at Alyon before destroying the enemy that had retreated to their headquarters. After receiving a sign telling him to stop, she took her daggers back to her bracelets and waited.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"I'm Commander Anton from the Nikonia city guard!"

Anton continued his speech when his voice stopped echoing on the empty steppes.

"It is too late for me to realize that I am here with the misleading of a slander. I was sent to support these bandits when they said you were buying weapons to attack the city of Nikonia."

Red Tail stared at him in disbelief as Anton continued his speech. When he saw that it was against him and tried to intervene to deny what was said, he fell to the ground with a fist from the commander and began to wreck with pain.

"I don't think you want this misunderstanding to put you face-to-face with the Nikonian army. Orc chief, please cooperate to resolve this issue by consensus."

Faced with death, Anton drove the mighty city army to the table as the last trump card, and at the same time, Alyon stood up in anger.

"You pathetic bug! Do you think you can threaten the glorious orc tribe by naming a small city army?"

At the showdown moment, the Redtail jumped from where he was lying and called to Alyon.

"The supreme orc chief, the leader of Nikonia commercial city Godfrey, is my brother. Would you please let me discuss compensation for this mistake with him? During this time, I agree to remain captive in your tribe. "

The bandit leader's words stunned everyone who heard it, except Alyon, Nafız, and Pigtail. When the merchant set out to supply orders, the trio had argued for a long time about the location of the tribe and environmental factors.

The Redstorm bandits terrorizing the region were the only group that survived, although the mighty Nikonian army had pushed them to a single conclusion. There was an unknown link between the commercial city and these bandits.

After hearing the news, the merchant Dimitri observed that his apprentice and, unlike him, the orc chief were relatively calm. All the stones were in place; there must have been only one explanation for an orc with such wise and invaluable equipment in this remote location. I meet the dungeon conquerors mentioned in the stories my father told.

As Alyon was preparing to speak, the situation became complicated with the bitter cry from the enemy ranks. Redtail, which had just called out to them, was stabbed in the back by Commander Anton. The commander, who rushed to the defense mechanics after his heroism, was shouting with pleasure.

"Just wait. When I reach the city, I will come with a huge army and destroyed your tribe. Even if you run to the end of the world, you will not escape me!"

The moment the bandit leader said he was the brother of the city lord, Anton had a plan in his head. Even though he understood that he and his troops had been sent on for this job, Godfrey and the bandits had a relationship, and he could not even imagine that there would be blood. If the bandit leader surrendered and the news went to the city lord, no one, including himself, would be left alive so that this link would not be exposed.

The best thing he could do right now was kill Redtail and go back and lie. Later, wanting to take responsibility, he would lead a large army and silence all witnesses of the incident.

"Nafız, don't let him escape! If it reaches the machine, we can't stop it!

With this unexpected move by the enemy commander, Alyon was fooled for the first time in the entire war. He called out to Nafız in a panic to prevent any catastrophe that would happen to them if they kidnapped Anton.

Nafız stretched sluggishly as her target hurried away. She realized that the fleeing was using speed-boosting equipment, and although it is possible to catch the opponent with her average speed, dealing with such a coward was not for her.

"Sangre, hunt down that escaped purple rabbit for me!"

Anton might have been a coward, but he wasn't stupid. He saw that there was a warrior in the tribe who could shoot arrows piercing their armor. Immediately after killing Redtail, he acted to kick himself out of arrow range by activating his speed-boosting boats.

Stretching his bow at the behest of his master, Sangre discovered that his target had already reached a thousand steps away. "Master, the target is out of my view range; it may not be possible for me to hit it!" He said, fearing that he would not hit this target, which is almost out of sight.

Sangre's words were met with a harsh reaction on the Nafız side.

"Did I give you this ability to whine? If you can't see it with your eyes, shoot your target using your other senses!"

Sangre stretched the bow once more after the scolding. The previous targeting seemed difficult; Anton was entirely out of sight this time. While his heart pounded for fear of failing in this first mission given to him by his master, he suppressed all the emotions that surged in vibration from the bow.

The weapon in his hand was shaking as if it meant trust me. After quitting his spirit, Sangre began to listen to the battlefield, closing his eyes, which is now useless. As Sangre became semi-meditative, he felt the vibrations from his weapon sweep the moor over the battlefield.

With his ears, he could hear the grunts of the Orcs, the conversation amongst the soldiers whose commanders had fled, and even the heart of the Redtail dying on the ground beating to pump the last blood. As the vibrations crossed the tribal boundaries, a footstep caught in their ears, this person running at a fast speed was his target.

He was gently releasing his arrow from his bow, unaware that his master was watching him. Knowing that talent must be kneaded in the embers of war, Nafız seemed delighted with the progress of the first blood warrior.

A cry that no one could hear except Nafız and Sangre soon rose somewhere far from the tribe. The treacherous commander, who lost his balance and fell to the ground with the blow he received, was moaning with the pain of the arrow stuck in his bone as he struggled to get up.

Taking his second arrow from his quiver with the comfort of stopping the enemy, Sangre snarled.

"You wouldn't shout, Anton. Now I know where your mouth is!"

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When a good person dies, don't cry for him. Cry for the society that lost it.

Farabi