As soon as he entered the city, Alyon sent a message to Beyaz Ayı, the Chief of the Glacial Region:
"Your son and army are held captive by me! Let's set a place and time to discuss the terms!"
What was meant to be conveyed was short and clear; while Çekiçdöven was recovering, Alyon set about waiting for the answer. Meanwhile, since Parthenia opened the customs gates on the ramparts, merchants were encountering interesting scenes.
While a huge crowd, whose weapons were taken from their hands, was waiting in the corner, the city under siege was coming back to life. When the land attack stopped, the ships blockading the port also had to leave their places one by one.
While the people were gradually evacuated from the cellars, the faces of people longing for fresh air for a long time were smiling. There were also those not as lucky as them; agents who wanted to rile up the people during the war had emerged. The soldiers coming from Nikonya were in charge of this job and made sure that the provocateurs would not see the sun again.
It took five day-cycles for the answer to arrive. During this time, Çekiçdöven had recovered and gone to live among his warriors despite insistence.
Alyon didn't know what to do in the face of the incoming response, then he came to the place where the captive warriors were, taking his officers with him.
"Çekiçdöven, the message your father sent is here. It would be more appropriate for you to read it!"
The young orc, taking the parchment extended by the enemy commander, suddenly changed color. His face turned as white as a sheet, as if he had come out of the grave. The response Beyaz Ayı sent was as short and clear as the message he received.
"Behead all of them, including my son. I have no need for captured warriors!"
What kind of cold-bloodedness, what kind of heartlessness was this? According to incoming reports, the number of warriors in the Glacial Region should be around a hundred thousand. He was wiping out half of his forces in one stroke; these were people trained for war all their lives.
Çekiçdöven announced the message to his army; it was already news they expected. They silently set about waiting for what would happen.
"Chief Alyon, all the warriors behind me are well-trained and loyal men. I beg you, take only my head. Use this opportunity to expand your army!"
The young commander's goal was to sacrifice himself and save his warriors. Just as he was about to kneel for this, a hand grabbed his shoulder firmly.
"Wars are lost; there is no need for you to cast your pride aside for this. I assume you learned who we are from your soldiers. You have until sunrise; either join my army or go and establish a tribe for yourselves. Orc blood will not be shed unnecessarily in these lands!"
Chief Alyon laid down the law. Since Beyaz Ayı didn't want to meet, taking his army would work better than slaughtering them. Fifty thousand well-trained warriors were a godsend to give the newly established army many maneuver capabilities.
When they heard the offer, the faces of the warriors of the siege army involuntarily lit up with joy; they liked the idea of fighting alongside this person who had been looking out for them since the siege. His daughter had defeated their chief's heroic son in a duel, and there were interesting commanders under his command.
The impression he created with his solemn attitude was proof that he had the might to rule even without showing his power. Two human cities were in their hands; even in their own Glacial Region, the Trade City Lord could boss them around as he pleased.
When he figured out where things were going from the expressions of the captive orcs, a fire burned inside Alyon. The army he would capture was magnificent; although the commander at their head was a bit reckless, he knew someone who would pressure him.
"Girls, this is your last opportunity, think wisely! I am borrowing your hot-headed commander for tonight!"
While Nafız spoke looking at the captive soldiers, her last words caused laughter. The desire to kill of Yarmagül standing a few steps behind her was scorching her nape.
"In the evening, this matter will be settled amicably with a dinner at the City Lord's castle. If you also want to fight for a greater purpose from now on, make your decision well!"
After the two commanders spoke, the group returned to the city. Along with them was Çekiçdöven, who wanted to cross the ramparts and conquer Parthenia. It was the young commander's first entry into a human city; he watched the surroundings in amazement until he came to the place where he would stay.
Nafız was staying in Astute's mansion with her two students. When the group came in front of the door, she turned to her students and said, "Hang around somewhere until dinner; I don't want to be disturbed!" and entered inside with Çekiçdöven whose hand she held.
Yarmagül was about to explode. What they experienced while fighting had made her interested in the young man, and as days passed, she became unable to control the feelings inside her. This woman, who turned into her inner demon on every subject, was now taking her first love from her hands too.
Just as she was about to rush forward, an arm appeared in front of her; it was her father Alyon preventing her. The chief, aware of everything, blocked his daughter's way. The young girl bowed her head; she couldn't take on both her father and the tribe's best warrior at the same time.
While being dragged inside, Çekiçdöven was sweating bullets, looking at the girl he liked with desperate eyes. What could be done; he was a prisoner, and he had no chance to suppress the person shutting him in with brute force.
"Come on in, handsome! Let's see if your waist is as strong as your hand!"
Nafız started to undo her hair amidst the bewildered gazes of the young commander she threw on the bed.
"Ma'am, I cannot be a tool for your desire; my heart beats for someone else!"
The female orc shouted furiously in the face of what she heard.
"Who is the one stealing my man? Say her name; I won't have peace until I take her life!"
"No, I won't speak even if I die. You can take my body but never my soul!"
"Cut!"
Nafız, saying the last word, burst into laughter; she hadn't had this much fun in a long time. As for Çekiçdöven, he didn't know what to say; he was like the person playing the fool in a cheap comedy movie.
"Come out, kids! This duck has fallen head over heels in love!"
While two figures walked slowly towards him from behind the thick velvet curtains, the young commander was waiting on the bed pulling the sheet over him. The arrivals were Nafız's students; they had already taken their places before their master went up to the bedroom on the upper floor with the orc beside her.
"You passed the test, commander! You proved that you are a trustworthy person for our tribe and family!"
Kitapkurdu spoke with a single eyebrow raised. Sangre beside him didn't even see the need for this. His six daggers flying around him were enough to explain what could happen otherwise.
"Take this and go to the human tailor; have him sew a sharp-looking suit. Arrange a huge bow tie. Don't forget to buy a big flower and sweets on your way; I will drive Alyon crazy tonight!"
While Yarmagül was crying in her room unaware of what happened, Alyon gave himself to drink. How could his friend not know the situation even he understood? What was the purpose of this move?
When evening came, Marcos and the members of the three noble families were waiting for their guests, having prepared a table even more magnificent than the one they set before the siege. Before long, Alyon, his daughter, and two captains entered the castle. When they came to the dining hall, they would be a little surprised. They expected Nafız to have arrived before them to spite them, but the female orc and her students were nowhere to be seen.
They had just sat in the places reserved for them when the door opened again, and familiar faces were entering. The expected guests were finally attending the invitation, and their clothes seemed to be the harbinger of an interesting evening.