Walking victoriously, Yarmagül did not even look at the injured man in body and soul that she had left behind. Hammer Tooth's soldiers also collapsed, their weapons falling from their hands one by one.
"The result is clear, all of you surrender on your knees!
Their Commander was dead fire was gushing from his eyes. After Alyon's words, many thought of dying by fighting. The atmosphere was getting tense with each passing second when Nafız shouted in a contemptuous tone.
''Idiots! If you wait a little longer, there will be no chance of surviving the ox on the floor!"
The siege army was startled. The red-eyed female orc said that the young Commander was alive. As the shields and axes that fell to the ground shook the ground, a group of ten rushed over to the Hammer Tooth.
"Take this and give Dilber's medicine. Don't let him die; I have business with this youngster!"
Everyone was astonished when she finished her words, which she added to the end with an erotic laugh. Only a pair of eyes harbored the intent of envy, and that was what Nafız wanted to see.
''Yes, commander!'' After the group that carried the Hammer Tooth, Alyon stepped forward and addressed the captured soldiers.
"Orc warriors, listen to me all! Despite my repeated warnings, you have been dragged into a war that is not yours. Your Commander will not die, while we will meet your needs as well!"
As the enemy commander spoke, the warriors of Hammer Tooth's army were on the ground. As they pondered what humiliation they would face, the burly orc would once again lend them a helping hand.
"You were training to death in that glacier-enclosed place, unaware of everything; it's not your fault! Now, it's time for you to find out the true status of the Orc Steppes!"
When Alyon gave his signal, many people emerged from the castle gates and started walking towards the battlefield. Among the people, the majority were orcs, and there were also some people, the most familiar of which belonged to the Arena's manager.
''Who are they?''
"What will they tell us?"
Conversations began in the army; they were looking curiously at the approaching crowd.
"My fellow countrymen! I was a hunter in the tribe who called himself Ayıbogan, one of those sent to die on the Great Mountain. As a result of the tribal chief's agreement with the creature that is the owner of Great Mountain, we were sent to hunt without proper weapons!"
The facial expressions of the listeners would change in an instant; was such a thing possible? They had a hard time believing it.
"Yeah, you don't believe it does you? While the warriors protected the chief, we were constantly sacrificed as bait to the creatures until Chief Alyon, and Nafız cleared the mountain and conquered the tribe. Right now, we are living in the holy land prosperously!"
Many warriors looked at the talking orc with suspicious eyes in the face of what was said, believing that these were lies in their minds.
"I am a warrior from the Arid Zone tribe. Look, do not turn your face; take a good look at my face!"
The person speaking was among the warriors who were tried to be burned alive by the armies of the city of Nikonia, with a large and deep burn mark on his face. His gaze was so sharp and his voice loud that he was the epitome of orc warrior depiction.
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"This burn happened when the treacherous hunter chief slit the cowardly chieftain's throat and left us to die in the middle of the battle. Who do you think saved us and brought the enemy to their knees? What was the main tribe, to whom we send precious stones by wagon every month when they heard the news of the war?"
No one in the siege army knew about the story told, and the orcs, whose days consisted of training and food, had no answer to give.
"Great Chief Alyon and his warriors captured the army of the trading city. He gave a lesson to those who treated us like vile creatures from wild creatures! Do you know why I don't heal my face? In every reflection in the water, I do not see myself trapped, but the traitors burned alive by the Blood God!"
The speaker's words created a bombshell effect; it was clear that this orc was a fierce warrior. The terms of such people were the currency in societies where power ruled.
"A human ally will give you some information on some issues, but I will tell you in advance that I will not tolerate the slightest outburst!"
Alyon stood beside Quintus, who was trembling with fear, encouraging him, but the man caught amid a hundred and fifty thousand orcs was about to burst out of his heart.
"Glorious orc warriors, what I'm about to tell you includes the previous City Lord's deeds. They have nothing to do with the current rulers!"
Words were forced out of the mouth of Arena's fabulous entertainer. He experienced firsthand what it felt like to be thrown into the arms of gladiators in front of thousands of people by orcs.
"Newborn orcs were being sold as slaves in our city by the local tribe through traders!"
The orcs who were on their knees jumped to their feet; how could such a thing happen, let alone be uttered in front of them.
''Sit down!''
The burly orc awaited this reaction, activating his bloodline power. Straightened in anger, the captives were forced to sit back down at the same speed. They would now understand how the female orc had reined in their Commander during the war.
"Everything I am going to say is the truth. Here are the ledgers of the three noble families and the battle list of the Arena. Please check it!"
Quintus was more polite than ever because the slightest wrong move meant the end of his life. A few commanders stepped forward and picked up the papers the fat man had left on the floor. Eyes popping out as he read, orcs were sold as captives, the lowest class.
"Man is telling the truth. I was a slave who was born, sold to the merchant, and reached maturity at the city gates. I was sold like commodities in the market; I was forced to work with a leash around my neck until I passed out from exhaustion. Still, I was lucky, and I was not among my relatives who were sent to their deaths in the Arena with a blunt sword in their hands."
An orc who worked as a slave until the capture of the city spoke in tears. This person's body was recovering, still not enough flesh on the top of his bones. The anger of the siege army gave way to shame. How did they end up like this in their land?
"Lift your heads! I, Kuyag, killed two bodyguards of the owner of this cruelty with my own hands. With these eyes, I watched an arena full of horny people being murdered. When the Commander killed the Nafız City Lord, my chest swelled with pride, like all the orc warriors out there!"
''Hey! Hey!''
At the captain's words, they shouted at the warriors under his command and struck their shields with their weapons. As they thought of the sight they saw, their Blood was boiling, and their hearts were beating faster.
"You are now my prisoner! I'm not going to tie you up or put you in little cells. You will wait in your tents until you present my terms to your chieftain and receive the answer. Regardless, you are warriors with orc pride; I trust you!"
When he had finished speaking, Alyon turned and walked towards the city gates. At that time, a group was entering Hammer Tooth's tent to retrieve his communications equipment.
Instead of a large-scale battle, it was a duel, and the siege army was surrendered without bloodshed. For now, his plans had worked, and the burly orc was smiling on the way back.
"Give them food and drink. Let them not die and stink the whole city!"
Nafız was disappointed. The captives before her were suckling lambs she was eager to slaughter, and she looked on with disgust even as she helped.
Once the command echelon was separated, the two armies would begin to interact with each other. Hearing the headlines of the events that took place so far, the warriors had the chance to listen to what was happening down to the last detail.
These traitors who rebelled against the mother tribe were utterly different from what they were told. Wherever they went, they brought the orcs to glory.
They ate and drank together. Orcs were strange creatures; while they were dying to kill each other in the morning, they sang shoulder to shoulder at night.
Never in the history of war have so many people owed so much too so few.
Winston Churchill