By evening, a heated argument was underway inside the chief's tent. After Alyon explained the decision he made today to Nafız, all hell had broken loose.
"What is this 'I want to have a child with you' nonsense to a girl you've only seen once, you so-called chief?"
"Never mind that; you are already stubborn as a mule, and the girl is headstrong enough not to be afraid of me; your child will be born pure obstinacy. This won't work; give it up while you're ahead, forget about this kid business."
While Nafız was grumbling angrily, Alyon sat in a corner, listening to her calmly. After a long while, when Nafız paused her ranting, Alyon began to speak in a serious tone.
"If you are this jealous, we can make the child with you too; you just need to state your intention."
"Where am I, and where is this degenerate pimp!"
Seeing that explaining things to the orc in front of her was the same as talking to a brick wall, Nafız shouted towards the outside of the tent.
"Come inside, we can start the meeting!"
Following the call, Sangre, Domuzkuyruk, and Miloş took their places with slow steps, acting very carefully to avoid making a wrong move. Once everyone took their seats, Alyon started speaking to explain what was on his mind.
"Friends, we have initiated a conflict between the city of Nikonya and the orc tribe led by Kızılayı. According to my predictions, it will be inevitable for them to fight each other in the not-too-distant future."
While the heroes of the events in Nikonya sat calmly inside the tent, the eyes of Domuzkuyruk and his son widened in shock.
"A golden opportunity will arise to seize the region during the final war. When that time comes, you have a lot of work to do so we can be ready."
Turning to the duo of Domuzkuyruk and Miloş sitting side by side, Alyon said, "You two! By working together, you will ensure that our warriors and logistics unit become as efficient as possible."
As Alyon finished his words, Nafız took over the task from where he left off.
"Miloş, I will never tolerate weakness and indiscipline on the training ground. You are free to do whatever it takes to create an army kneaded with blood and sweat for me. You may leave now!"
While Nafız sent her slave away from the tent where the meeting was held, the others were very surprised by this event. When Miloş's footsteps became inaudible, Alyon spoke up, looking into the astonished eyes of the father and son.
"What you are about to hear will remain a secret you will keep until you die, and your lineage will be the ones honored to guard this secret."
Alyon's mysterious speech stretched the duo, who were already on edge, to their limits. Even thinking about the magnitude of the secret that they and their descendants would guard filled them with fear.
"In the depths of the region we are in, there is a reward dungeon, and no one currently living in the orc steppes knows its location."
Succumbing to his curiosity at this term he heard for the first time, Sangre said, "Chief, what exactly do you mean by reward dungeon?"
"Reward dungeons are places that offer various gifts to the entrant if they succeed."
Thinking it would be appropriate to explain to the blood warrior she created, Nafız roughly summarized the nature of the dungeons.
Before continuing his speech, Alyon sighed as if remembering something he lost with longing, and went into details.
"I was only able to enter once... This dungeon, where I won a weapon that could compete with the works of the most famous artisans in the world, is the dungeon located in our region, the secret of which you will swear to protect."
Although it seemed strange to the duo that Alyon, whose birth had not even passed a month yet, spoke by referencing old days, they didn't even think of objecting to the chief's words.
"With a fighting contest, the first of which will be held tomorrow, the top three warriors of the tribe will be determined. This trio, who will earn the right to enter the dungeon with us, will continue to be determined by a new contest held after every six-month period."
Alyon revealed the plan he had thought out and designed all night in Gulag's dungeon. He wanted to organize the army he would establish in his tribe into companies of one hundred, and his biggest goal was to place a dungeon conqueror at the head of each company.
"You thought it out well! This core tribe will serve as our war academy, and with the commanders it trains, it will be our greatest aide in the management of our expanding army."
Even though Nafız only said "you thought it out well," she had to admit to herself that she admired Alyon's plan. If their goal was to bring the entire Orc Steppes to their knees, they would need high-level commanders along with reliable comrades.
Later in the night, as everyone ate their meals joyfully at the tables set up in the middle of the tribe, a wild roar rose to the skies when Domuzkuyruk announced that a fighting tournament would be held.
The next day, the orcs formed ten fighting circles in the meadows outside the tribe. Warrior orcs were divided into ten groups, struggling to rise to the finals as the strongest of their circle.
Humans were forbidden from participating in the fighting tournaments. Explaining that this new land they settled in was the first home of the orcs and that the top three would receive the ancestors' grace, Alyon deprived the human warriors of this opportunity.
The first stage of the fights, which started with the first lights of the morning, ended when the sun reached its peak and scorched the land with its heat. The warriors who took the lead in the fighting circle were impatient to fight each other in the finals and display their skills.
As the final fights began, Domuzkuyruk forbade opponents from killing each other. These ten people were the cream of the crop of the tribe's fighters. Losing existing assets before forming the necessary war power wouldn't benefit anyone.
At the end of consecutive fights, Sangre took the title of the tribe's strongest orc warrior without difficulty. While orc warriors cheered loudly for him, contrary to expectations, Sangre wasn't smiling with happiness but was staring at one person with anger.
Miloş was as comfortable as a lion being bothered by a small fly in the face of the orc he had effortlessly defeated looking at him with hatred. After laughing with scornful mimicry, he started applauding Sangre, following the other orcs.
While the electric atmosphere formed between the duo caught the attention of Alyon and Domuzkuyruk, Nafız straightened up with pleasure, stretched her arms wide, and spoke.
"It's a good thing I left this bodyguard alive. Besides being a strong fighter, he also knows how to play with his opponent's psychology."
Sangre, who was already like a powder keg, went mad seeing the opponent who crushed him applauding him condescendingly, but he knew that if he wanted to make a move in this state, he would experience the same defeat again.
Due to the healing of the other two ranking orcs and the colorful dreams he built for the evening, Alyon announced the end of the competitions, stating they would set off tomorrow. The fact that the darkness of the night would descend soon caused the tribe people, who had to do the chores they neglected during the day, to rush to their duties in a hurry.
While the moon showed off in the sky like a bright medallion, feverish work was going on in the chief's tent. Food and various nuts were being brought to the table set inside, and Alyon was pacing impatiently in front of the door. Nafız, examining what was happening from her tent a bit further away, couldn't help but mutter to herself.
"You'd think this big head is Sultan Süleyman and the one coming is Hürrem. It's not clear how far we'll travel tomorrow; it wouldn't be a bad idea to leave them be and get some rest."
Just as Nafız calmed her mind and was about to fall asleep in her tent, a moan echoed in the silence of the night. Nafız, opening her drowsy eyes with fury, wanted to prevent her sleep from escaping due to the screams ringing in her ears, but she wouldn't be able to close her eyes again because of these sounds that lasted until daybreak.
In the first moments of the morning, the sounds ceased accompanied by a roar from Alyon, and the whole tribe came out of their tents to start the new day. While Nafız, one of these people, was sitting nervously in front of her tent, birds weren't flying within fifty steps due to the aura she emitted.
Alyon, coming out of his tent with a pleasant facial expression and flushed cheeks, stretched for a long time and casually examined the surroundings when his gaze fell on Nafız sitting in front of her tent. Almost at the same time, Nafız saw him and signaled him to come over.
"Nafız, I see you very joyless this morning, do you have a problem?"
Seeing Alyon acting as if nothing happened, Nafız got up and grabbed the majestic orc's ear.
"Ohhhh, you've become all soft too; shall I have the pasha's bath prepared for you?"
While Alyon looked stunned at the words he heard, Nafız continued to speak.
"Don't look at my face like an idiot, go take a purifying bath in that creek! We're going to set off; don't walk around me bringing bad luck!"
The tribal chief, looking at the female orc turning her back and leaving, walked towards the creek without understanding what happened, muttering, "I don't understand what she's saying sometimes either. I'm sweating like a pig; I'll wash up, I guess. Is someone chasing me?"