The change in facial expression of the young mage, who was concentrating on his attacks, upon hearing his master's name did not escape Nafız's notice.
"As far as I understand, two students are currently trying to overcome a test set by their masters. I give you my word, if you can kill my student, I will spare your life and ensure you return to your master!"
Alyon, falling into astonishment like everyone else after Nafız's words, immediately came to her side and objected to her decision.
"Don't you dare do that! You can't throw all the plans we made into the trash for the sake of your ego!"
"Back off, big guy; how quickly you decided that Sangre would fail!"
Sangre, overhearing Nafız's words, understood his master's purpose and started fighting with all his might not to shame her. While directing the arrows he rapidly drew from his quiver onto his enemy in succession, he was also closing the distance between himself and Adhemar with quick steps.
"What a stupid archer! Instead of keeping his distance by running away, he's trying to get close to me."
Adhemar, happy with his opponent's unexpected fighting style, spaced out his long-range attacks and allowed his enemy's movements. Just as the mage, who planned to launch an attack on the area where the archer was when he came to a certain distance, saw six throwing knives coming at him from all directions, he would feel a pang in his heart.
Adhemar, who allowed the orc to get close because he didn't think he could possess such a weapon, immediately muttered a few magic words and slammed his staff violently on the ground after the attack he suffered. Just a breath before the knives reached him, the mage, surrounding his body with a light shield, managed to block the attacks.
Creating a fire vortex by swinging his staff, the young mage was attacking his enemy, and the magic shield surrounding him was moving with him. While the shield, rising in the shape of a bell jar and merging above his head, turned the normal arrows coming onto it to ash, it could only deflect the special arrows given by Nafız.
"Acting as if unaware of his weakness and luring his opponent into a trap was a pretty good plan."
Nafız was critiquing the situation with Alyon while her student's surprise attack didn't work and the war continued at a distance of fifty steps again.
"The mage's defensive ability is really very effective, but as far as I can see, a lot of spiritual power needs to be spent to maintain it. What I'm wondering is, will Sangre continue a war of attrition, or will he try to take advantage of the opening you surely noticed too!"
While Chief Alyon spoke as if the control of the war was with the orc warrior, the mage was pressuring his archer opponent with giant fire whips coming out of his staff. Although ordinary eyes watching the fight thought he had the upper hand, in reality, Adhemar was attacking desperately to kill his opponent before his decreasing magic power ran out.
The mage, losing his kinetic vision due to his own attacks and the arrows landing on the protective shield around him, had long lost consciousness of the distance between him and his enemy. Sangre, having started multiple arrow shots, faded the color of the bright light shield as time passed, and by introducing throwing knives into the mix, revealed his will to bring the war to an end.
Concluding that it wouldn't end well for him if he continued to apply the chase-and-attack tactic, the young mage trusted the protection of the light shield and began to chant magic words. Even while preparing his spell by standing still where he was, he was making a great effort not to take his eyes off Sangre.
The blood warrior continued his attacks sometimes with steel arrows and sometimes with special blood-red arrows, and taking advantage of the enemy's immobility, he periodically pounded the surface of the shield with his knives.
While Adhemar's use of steel arrows, even if they didn't work on the orc he followed with his eyes, blocked his field of view, the sounds of other attacks did nothing other than ring in his ears. This meaningless attack style wouldn't be able to breach his shield until his spell ended, but the young mage felt a knot of suspicion in his stomach.
Adhemar, who had been in tough struggles, was questioning what his opponent, who drew him into a trap where he would be forced to use his magic shield, aimed with such shallow attacks, when there was a ten-breath duration left for the completion of his spell.
As a result of the time approaching when the victor would be determined, nerves were strained, and the dose of Sangre's attacks increased onefold more. The moment the young mage stopped muttering and slowly raised his staff, a black knife shooting from the ground flew towards his chest targeting his heart. When the knife, which he parried by stepping slightly aside, opened a deep cut on his shoulder, Adhemar, who needed a three-breath duration to release the spell, laughed with joy.
The sole weakness of the light shield surrounding him was that it didn't cover under the ground to ensure its use even while in motion. The mage, looking with mocking eyes at his opponent who realized this weakness too late, wanted to move his arm to lower his staff, when the expression on his face changed dramatically.
While Adhemar, unable to command his limbs, stiffened where he stood, the blood flowing from the wound on his shoulder continued to stain his clothes. A short while later, when the young mage lost control over his power and toppled over like an empty sack, most of those watching the struggle wouldn't be able to make sense of what happened.
"Poison, this is the poison you used on my daughter!"
Chief Alyon, having seen what happened unlike the ignorant orcs around him, spoke with astonishment looking at Nafız.
"It's not exactly the same; I had to dilute it a bit since I didn't want to kill your daughter. The poison on Sangre's knife is ten times more effective than the one I used that day."
While his enemy lay on the ground, Sangre drew his bow and called out to Adhemar.
"I won't forget your name; don't be ashamed for being a stepping stone that helped my rise!"
When the arrow hitting Adhemar's head without encountering any obstacles exploded its target like a watermelon, the final result of the war was declared.
Although many unforeseen events occurred in the chaotic battlefield, the orc tribe had defeated the Nikonya forces by taking most of them prisoner.
"The war is over! Logistics company, get to work!"
With Alyon's call, hundreds of orcs rushed to the battlefield from the rear of the front. Wounded warriors were being taken to healers for treatment, unclaimed ammunition was being collected, and the dead were being piled on top of each other.
Logistics orcs, upon receiving orders, were burying the dead in large pits they dug, hoping the bodies of these brave individuals would give life to the barren lands.
While Nafız and Alyon proceeded towards the area where the chief's tent was, Kasaphaydo's warrior orcs were bowing respectfully before them along the way. As for the group consisting of Domuzkuyruk, Sangre, Vahşiduvar, and Kuyag following this duo a few steps behind, they were walking with pride due to the scene in front of them.
When they arrived in front of the tent and saw Kızılayı's corpse greeting them, Alyon gave a solid kick to the dead body lying on the ground.
"Take the filthy body of this degenerate to the place where traitors like him are located!"
Alyon, who didn't enter the tent until he saw a few logistics orcs throwing Kızılayı's corpse next to the war fugitives, turned to the orcs coming after him.
"Except for Nafız, all of you will wait outside until a second order. Human prisoners will absolutely not be mistreated. When the moon rises to its peak, I want the whole tribe to gather next to the traitors."
"Yes, sir!"
Following the group leaving to implement the orders after giving a loud salute, Alyon entered the tent with large strides. While scanning the inside of the tent with careful looks, his eyes shone with the joy of finding what he was looking for.
"I'm putting this next to the other one!"
When Alyon was taken into the space in her ring by his precious Nafız, he calmed down and sat on the empty throne. He posed by placing both hands firmly on the armrests at the sides and leaning his back against the high backrest.
"The bird of prey has wide wings; how well it suits the scoundrel to sit on the throne!"
Nafız, satirically touching upon her friend running to ascend the throne, lay down on the piled-up hides and began to wait for nightfall.