Çekiçdöven was barely able to stand up after the big blow he received, but the move he made immediately after aroused astonishment in the crowd. The young man was taking off his armor, which could be considered a treasure on the Orc Steppes.
Shortly after, no clothing remained on him other than his leather trousers underneath; he reached for his hammer hurled aside with calm steps.
"Aaarrrrggggggghhhhhh!"
The young commander, letting out a blood-curdling war cry, was rapidly starting to turn red; if looked carefully, smoke rising from his body could be seen.
"Daughter, take your guard! Your opponent is going to attack!"
Despite her father's warning, Yarmagül continued to look at her heavily wounded opponent with scornful eyes. This complacency wouldn't pass with a sentence. She couldn't grasp the seriousness of the situation until she saw Çekiçdöven five steps in front of her.
The young commander, shooting like an arrow from his place, executed a huge swing; he was trusting the reach of his weapon without minding the distance between them. This time the female orc couldn't escape; the shape of her face changed while blocking with her weapon.
The violence within the strike had nothing to do with the previous ones; she had to take a step back. Çekiçdöven didn't stop; he continued his attack as if he wasn't the one whose ribs were broken.
Yarmagül's expression was getting uglier moment by moment. Her opponent whose moves she easily dodged was gone; a monster had practically come in his place. The blows she received might not have been refined like her own technique, but they seemed to have no end either.
Saying one step, two steps, she was forced to stay completely on the defense.
The warriors of the Glacial Orc Tribe were aware of what was happening; that's why they looked joyless despite having the upper hand in the war. One more person among the enemy shared the same feelings as them. Alyon had knowledge about the young man's condition due to his master's memories.
Çekiçdöven was using his bloodline ability; he would attack incessantly until he killed his opponent. With the Warrior's Rage, the user's strength and speed could increase up to ten times, but the price to be paid was great. When the person who saw red entered this state, they aimed to kill their enemy at the cost of finishing themselves.
The speed of his attacks increased gradually; cuts were forming on the female orc's body from the violence of the wind generated. In her slightest mistake, it was certain she would receive a fatal blow.
"Enough, man; were you given to me by ration!"
The weapons of the two warriors clashed once more. While Çekiçdöven took deep breaths, Yarmagül, hurled back and falling to the ground, shouted angrily. Before anyone could understand what was happening, the enemies standing close to her started falling to the ground one by one.
"Since it has come to this, there is no need for me to hold back!"
Alyon's daughter also activated her bloodline ability; there was not the slightest sign of fear in her eyes as she walked towards her opponent. She would either win a glorious victory by fighting with her full power or leave a name to be remembered behind her.
When the duo, who had steeled themselves, engaged each other again, things got even more interesting. Even if they weren't aware, they had become parties to a struggle lasting hundreds of years. Two bloodline powers had perhaps come face to face thousands of times before this.
One was fire, one was water. Against the monster driven mad by anger, a supreme plane tree restraining everything with its branches. The chief embracing all orcs with his arms and the war chief striking fear into enemies. Two lineages whose deeds were determined when they were born.
The duo clashed their weapons once more, and truly, everyone witnessed that Çekiçdöven's power dropped significantly. Not only the violence of the blow but its speed also decreased dramatically.
"Alyon, your daughter has developed her ability quite a bit, but what will you do now? Fifty thousand people witnessed this?"
An unforeseen situation occurred. As understood from the astonishment in their gazes, many people from the enemy army had figured out what was going on. The eyes of orcs over a hundred years old were almost popping out of their sockets; they knew they were witnesses to a legendary struggle.
After the war continued this way for a while, Çekiçdöven suddenly came to his senses. This was his second entry into this state in his life, and after the first one, even he couldn't count the number of corpses around him. The young man expected such a scene again, but this time his enemy's giant axe greeted him.
Even though he couldn't believe what he saw, he was in the middle of a fight; immediately retreating a few steps, he checked his own condition out of the corner of his eye. The smoke coming out of his body had now reached a state everyone could easily see, his broken ribs had pierced his skin, and the blood flowing from his wounds was scattering around with every movement.
"So you suppressed my bloodline power; only a single person should have been able to achieve this!"
Before answering her opponent calling out to her, Yarmagül slammed the handle of her weapon violently on the ground.
"A talking corpse, how interesting! Or should I have said a delicate sapling growing in his father's shadow?"
Çekiçdöven, who would have gone mad in the face of what he heard at a normal time, contented himself with a small smile. His condition was truly dire; he felt his life essence leaving his body.
"Sir, enough! We are all ready to surrender; please do not fight anymore!"
The commanders among his warriors couldn't restrain themselves in the face of this scene. Without exception, the whole army respected and loved their young commander and didn't want him to lose his life.
"Silence! We will all die, but how many of you can be lucky enough to die at the hands of such a magnificent woman. Do you want to steal this privilege from me, you heedless fools?"
After the words coming out of his mouth, the young commander, gripping his war hammer, took a deep breath and started walking towards his opponent. All his warriors bowed their heads; what could they say in the face of what they heard?
"Your mouth has started to talk so well like this. Don't worry at all; I will fulfill your wish!"
Yarmagül was arrogant as usual, but this time the words seemed to come out of her mouth differently. Nafız was the first to understand; she even stepped forward two steps to watch curiously where the matter would go.
Since the duel started, the spectators had fallen into astonishment twice; nothing would change in the third act either, the struggle continued to break the mold. After the duo spoke for the last time, the war took a strange turn.
They were trying to land fatal blows on each other again, escaping death by a hair's breadth, but the image was making the viewers experience completely different emotions. Even the looks of the female and male orc at each other changed; they were like lovers courting each other, not enemies. As if they were not fighting a duel to the death, but dancing passionately. While tens of thousands of gathered orcs watched them enchanted, the end of the tale came.
When Yarmagül made a hard swing from bottom to top, the weapon of the young commander blocking with the shaft of his hammer flew out of his hands. Upon this, Çekiçdöven collapsed on his knees and began to wait for his fate. His warriors wanted to shout at the top of their lungs, but they couldn't damage the honor of their commander who was about to die.
The silent screams coming from their gazes were hitting the female orc's body, while she walked with calm steps towards her opponent whom she made bow.
"Lift your head!"
Yarmagül ordered him to lift his head he bowed to be cut; the young man started looking at the female orc's face without saying anything.
"Throughout your life, everything happened as you wanted; you think you can even order your death. I can't dirty my hand with a spoiled child like you. I just want you to etch the face of the person who made you kneel into your memory!"
When she finished her words, Yarmagül turned her back and walked, leaving behind a man watching her with admiration.
"How can I forget?"
After muttering in a broken manner, Çekiçdöven collapsed where he was, unable to endure any longer. Today he was experiencing the firsts in his life; defeat, death, and love...