"Çekiçdöven, there are many things you don't know; give up your stubbornness. Take your army and return to where you came from!"
Alyon shouted at the top of his lungs once more. He knew this was the last card he played. After the calls coming one after another from the enemy ranks, the young commander would have to come out of his tent.
"I am the son of the magnificent orc warrior Beyaz Ayı. How can you propose that I flee from the battlefield!"
The exhausted siege army came to life and shouted war cries in unison. Maybe they did it with their last strength, but still, they weren't staining their valor.
"Stupid boy, that's exactly why I want you to go!"
While the hulking orc standing on the ramparts muttered to himself, he was startled by a voice coming from right beside him.
"Master, give the order! With the special arrows I took from you, I'll blow his head off after three consecutive shots."
The speaker was Sangre; thanks to the enemy moving their headquarters closer to the ramparts as the siege continued, the target had now entered his shooting range too. He drew his bow, his ear waiting for his master.
"We have a promise, my blood warrior; very little is left. These idiots aren't going anywhere anyway!"
Nafız, completing her words with a cruel laugh, continued to watch the enemy army with disgusted looks. In Çekiçdöven's headquarters, a heated conversation would begin after the events.
"Sir, inexplicably, the enemy is giving us an advantage. Our supply routes are closed; we must retreat and reorganize!"
The owner of the words was the young commander's right hand; the orc, who had been in duty for a long time, desperately wanted to convince Çekiçdöven.
"What will we tell my father? Shall we say we couldn't capture the city and were able to come back because the enemy showed mercy? What do you think the punishment for this would be?"
The discussion ended upon what was said; everyone knew the answer to the question quite well.
Nafız had never woken up to a new day with such pleasure. The deadline she gave had ended; now the time for slaughter had come. When she descended to the battlefield with her officers, the scene she saw would be satisfying.
All units in the Arid Region and the Sacred Lands had surrounded the siege army and were waiting for the order to attack. Alyon and Nafız's war power had reached a completely different dimension from when they captured Ayıboğan's tribe.
The siege army of fifty thousand people was surrounded by orc warriors numbering a hundred thousand. The army was moving in three sections; Kasaphaydo was in the center, Yarmagül on the right flank, and Miloş on the left flank as commanders.
The army besieging the city of Parthenia had taken their places to fight with the weapons they took in their hands. There was no future for them anymore; death was waiting at their door either way.
Nafız, going up to the ramparts with Sangre and her other two captains, found Alyon already observing the situation. The hulking orc looked extremely upset; he bad completely different plans for the Glacial Region, and the war that would take place would invalidate all of them.
"How good that this blockhead didn't go! Now I will tear that thing on him like calico!"
Unlike Alyon, his friend was tickled pink. Not only she, but her officers behind her were also dying for the war to start as soon as possible. The wait was about to be broken by Nafız's attack order when a voice made the place groan.
"You herd of wretches, will someone with the heart to duel me come out from among you? Or will you wait for us to come and tear you apart?"
The shouting orc was one of their own armies, and the voice didn't sound unfamiliar at all. When Yarmagül started walking from the right side with her massive halberd, those on top of the rampart were sure who was speaking, just like everyone else.
Yarmagül had argued quite a bit with her brother when the order to evacuate their region and flee came; she found the action she took dishonorable. She was the warrior daughter of the great chief Alyon; how could she flee from the enemy?
With the grudge of the event experienced, she was stepping forward with the aim of humiliating the enemy they surrounded and satisfying herself.
"Heyyyytt, woman, what is this impudence? Do you think everything is over just because you surrounded us? Come on, let me cut you down to size!"
The young commander leaped from his place upon the words coming from the female orc. Maybe they would die, but this didn't mean anyone who wished could insult them.
"Come on, walking tin can; I won't kill you, but I will leave you lacking a bit. Until you die, you will remember the woman who put you in this state!"
Yarmagül's reverse gear only worked when the subject was Nafız. She responded with the same harshness to the arrogant answer coming to her call. As the two warriors walked towards each other, the armies started to retreat to watch the war. Duels were sacred for orcs; no one could have the intention to break this ritual.
"Yarmagülllllll!"
Of course, there would always be some exceptions; one person didn't like the events on the battlefield at all. Nafız, tearing ears with her scream, leaped forward and jumped from the steep ramparts. When the orcs, who didn't understand what was happening, looked down, they saw their commander running from the vertical wall towards the ground.
Alyon panicked; he thought of jumping or running down like his friend did, but these were impossible tasks for him. He closed his eyes, and a massive brown bear appeared beneath him. Alyon, jumping from the ramparts with it, went after Nafız on the back of his animal that could dig its claws into the block stones.
The orc warriors in the city were the tribe's old soldiers; even if they were surprised, they knew everything could be expected from these two orcs. Those outside the ramparts were in shock at what they saw; two orcs were running at full speed down the walls they couldn't overcome for six moon cycles.
The duo's descent took very short, and within three breaths, they reached the side of the duo about to duel. Alyon intervened to appease the anger of Nafız, in front of whom he quickly passed.
"Nafız, this is a tradition. Before the war, the brave warriors of the two armies clash!"
Knowing his words didn't mean anything, Alyon was still saying things incessantly. Çekiçdöven, throwing off his astonishment, would also have the misfortune of speaking.
"What kind of impudence is this; how can you stain the sanctity of the duel?"
As soon as the young man finished his speech, a pair of blood-red eyes turned to him; the pressure descending on him at that moment was incredible.
Çekiçdöven was about to lose control of his body; he even took a few steps backward. For the first time in his life, he was struggling not to run away without looking back.
"Blood God Nafız, I beg you! Allow the duel!"
A completely unexpected event occurred; Yarmagül prostrated in front of Nafız and asked for permission. For ten breaths, no one spoke. Yarmagül didn't move her forehead touching the ground even a millimeter during this time; her ambition was so great that she was bowing even to the person she hated.
"Generations from father to daughter, damn what you do!"
The Blood God had to consider the dignity of her friend and her army, and she moved away and started walking towards Miloş's side. Alyon also moved to the side of Kasaphaydo, the Tribe Chief of the Arid Region, on the back of his massive bear.
The female orc running down the wall leaving the place she came furiously in anger was being mocked by some warriors of the siege army. Warriors whispering among themselves had caught a good opportunity to make fun of their enemies.
"Bammmm!"
"Ahhhhh!"
Blood sprayed from where the laughing group was. When a headless orc corpse fell to the ground, the dead bodies of his four friends behind him would follow. The screams of the warrior shouting due to an arrow stuck in his stomach were gathering the gazes of thousands of people on him.
"Utter just one more word! There are enough arrows for all of you!"
The owner of the voice was the orc on top of the ramparts. Although they had approached the city of Parthenia, they were still standing half a shooting range away. Who could be the one organizing an attack on this place, which was far even for shooting, let alone hearing what was spoken?