Seeing their chief, the Orcs began to surround the group, intending to greet him and thank them for the fertile land. While the crowd that came slowly to the front of the chief's tent shouted with joy, Nafız spoke, dropping all the voices.
"Orcs of the tribe, listen to me!"
After this echoing call, the orcs stopped speaking and began to watch the mighty female orc.
"From now on, the Chief of the Warriors is the person you see next to me, whose name is Miloş. Everything he says is my word; I recommend that you act accordingly. "
While Nafız pulled Miloş to his side, nobody could appeal to the decision. The slaughter of the female orc was fresh in memories, and the warrior orcs had experienced their cruelty firsthand.
While everyone in the tribe seemed to have accepted the decision, the speech of a female orc would end all silence.
"I cannot accept this. Humans cannot lead the glorious orc warriors."
Nafız, who was about to turn around and enter the tent, slowly turned her head and took a sharp glance at the orc, the master of the voice. The female orc, who seemed to faint at first glance with the intention of killing, managed to stand by pushing herself to her limits.
Upon this incident, Nafız, who moved to execute the female orc, suddenly saw that a huge body had blocked her.
"Big-headed, I am not in a position to deal with you. If you get out of my way, it'll be the best for your health. "
Since Alyon knew that Nafız became uncontrollable when she got angry, he immediately started telling him the plan in his mind.
"Listen to me first! If you are not satisfied, I promise that I will not interfere with your work. "
Seeing Nafız with their daggers pulled, the crowd moved away from fear as far as the female orc. The female orc regretted and wanted to retreat but couldn't move a mile because of Nafız's murderous intent.
"Naturally, you do not want someone to lead you, but this is the Orc Steppes, and here the strong will rule!"
As Alyon continued her speech, Nafız understood her friend's intention. They had to see firsthand the power of these stupid Orcs to accept Miloş.
"Evacuate the square for a fight! Just as everyone in the tribe has the right to duel for chieftaincy, they have the right to challenge the department chiefs. "
When the chief's words were over, the Orcs were talking among themselves and assessing the situation. Nafız shouted, looking at the crowd humming like a flock of ducks.
"Miloş is here to accept the challenges; those who object to my decision either fight now or keep silent forever. Otherwise, nobody should have any doubt that I will personally silence the gossip. "
At the end of her speech, Nafız, who took her daggers from her wristbands and put them back, took the crowd's breath away. As Miloş entered the circle of Orcs, the master's voice reached his ears.
"For those incompetent, you don't have to use a weapon; finish them off with your bare hands."
The female orc, who shed the fear on her with the effect of her hearing, became the first to enter the circle. After clutching the ax in her hand, she started running towards Miloş with a cry of war.
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While the female orc took the position of hitting with her ax three steps away from her opponent, she was surprised for a moment as the person opposite turned her back. Taking another action with this strange feeling, the orc understood what was happening to her as she was thrown through the air due to a swirling kick on her stomach.
Blood flowed from the mouth of the female orc, which could stop by breaking two trees due to a long flight. Miloş was like a sword forged through countless combat and life-or-death situations. Even if he wanted to hold back, every blow could have fatal consequences for those below a certain quality.
The fate of the unyielding female orc sprouted the will to fight in the hearts of its warriors in the tribe. The future of all who emerged in these heroic feelings was like the repetition of the defeat of the female orc. When no one survived for more than one blow, the remaining Orcs began to show signs of giving up.
"I want to try myself against you, warrior!"
As the blood warrior Sangre appeared, the crowd regained their lost enthusiasm.
"Sangre, kill that mess!"
"Take our vengeance, rupture him!"
As the Sangre marched to the battlefield, a subtle murder intention began to leak under the influence of the cheers. Years of experience, Miloş, as he felt this intention, locked his gaze on Nafız.
This mediocre person could have been essential in the tribe, given the extreme incompetence of the previous ones. Miloş, who looked like he wanted to get permission from his master before making his move, would relax with what he heard.
"Give the required lesson! It will be in his best interest to know the level of his power!"
While Miloş smiled with joy after Nafız's words, Sangre got angry a few times more. His dear master was denigrating himself to his opponent, whom he would face soon.
His intention to kill skyrocketed when he fervently embraced the bow. He wanted to hunt down the enemy with arrows that pierced even purple alloy armor.
While watching the trajectory of his arrow, Sangre suddenly saw his opponent turn into a blur. The blood warrior, who instinctively tried to relocate, would be stunned by the punch he took in the nose.
After the first punch, Sangre, who took the second fist on his face, threw himself back with the help of his master's gift boots and broke through the circle surrounding him. Now there was a large group of Orcs in front of him, and it was challenging for him to pick his human opponent among them.
The orc, who moved to avoid after a punch took his left eye, could not get rid of the second blow. Sangre struggled to find his opponent with his eyebrow cut, and he was having a hard time being blocked by the blood flowing into his eyes.
Concentrating on the left side that he could not see, the blood warrior felt the cold of metal in his throat as he fell to the ground due to a kick in the back of his knees.
Miloş, who shed a few drops of blood from Sangre's throat with the dagger in his hand, turned to his owner and asked.
"I'm waiting for your order! I can blow his head at any moment."
Not understanding how he lost the fight, Sangre bowed his head in embarrassment. Nafız, who was watching what happened, also had words to say to the crowd.
"Do not think yourself a heck just because you won a war; we will have many life and death struggles ahead. Focus on improving yourself, whether it be a human, orc, or wild creature."
She yelled at the crowd, which she was staring hard at, in a harsh voice.
"Scatter, you are useless!"
When things calmed down, Miloş handed over the injured Sangre to the healers and went exploring to examine the area where the tribe lived. While the Orc warriors were quite uncomfortable, there was a minority in the tribe who rejoiced. The purple rhino warriors, captured in battle and had to join the tribe, cheerfully returned to their training, as their commanders would become humans.
As Nafız retreated to her tent, who had taken a long walk during the night, Alyon set out for the tent where the wounded female orc was cured in the first fight. Alyon, who received information about the injured female orc from the healer who came out of the tent, entered the room calmly.
"Your courage is admirable, but if the person is not conscious of her strength, unfortunately, this happens."
Alyon spoke as she watched the female orc inside, her body covered with bandages.
"My Chief! Maybe I was defeated, but I'd rather die than trampling my pride. "
The determined stance of the other person made the orc chief laugh. Alyon stood as he turned his back and walked towards the door, looking into the eyes of the wounded orc after a short silence.
"My name is Alyon. From now on, you can call me by name because you will be the mother of my child," he said.
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Be a man of the idea for which you will be responsible.
Ahmet Hamdi Tanpınar