"I wonder if you used these when asking for help, One-Eye?"
There was a sly expression on the face of Nafız, who hurled the mechanical homing pigeons in her hand towards the barrier. She had to exert a little effort to bring down the mechanical vehicles, all of which took off in different directions at the same time.
While the captain of the mercenaries counted the mechanical birds on the ground, there was no trace of the old cheerful expression on his face. All his calls for help had been returned to him; he clenched both hands into fists out of anger.
"So what? When they don't hear from me for a while, they will surely understand something is wrong. This move serves no other purpose than delaying the inevitable. You brought me fifty thousand more heads; all I will do is sit here and wait!"
After the standing man sat cross-legged again, a small dining table appeared in front of him with the shining of the bracelet on his arm. Apparently, the bald man had thought of every possibility and taken necessary precautions.
"My appetite whetted thinking I will earn five gold from each of your heads. I would invite you to the table, but I don't have enough space!"
While biting the drumstick he took in his hand savagely, contents of his mouth were scattering around. Meanwhile, the giant chests inside the tent caught Çekiçdöven's eye.
With the hope of finding an item useful for their work, he ordered his subordinates to open their lids. It would be a very wrong decision; the orcs seeing the things inside were practically petrified.
"What is inside the chests? Answer quickly!"
His warriors, not answering his call, went on the attack towards the barrier shouting terrible war cries. Their state would cause the man with a patch over one eye to scream with laughter; leaving his meal, he leaped forward to see the faces of the furiously panting orcs up close.
A bad smell was covering the inside of the tent. They could guess the reason; this was something rotten corpses would emit. When the young commander came to the side of the chests, he was practically devastated; they were filled to the brim with orc heads.
If his soldiers were crazy, Çekiçdöven was a thousand times more maniacal than them. He went on the attack as soon as he grabbed his giant hammer.
"Ha ha ha, why did you go crazy now? Didn't I say your head is worth five gold? Thanks to them, the tribe here saw no harm in gifting me all the newborn orcs. Please don't damage my precious money!"
The young commander completely lost control in the face of what he heard; he was standing on the verge of awakening his bloodline power. Before, they had only heard what was told to them; the effect of seeing with their own eyes was completely different.
Sounds coming from outside had almost ceased; apparently, the war was coming to an end. There was only a single target in front of them, the enemy commander hiding himself inside a protection barrier. Most of the orc army had surrounded the chief's tent, waiting for the young commander to come out.
"Everyone stop, knowing what happened here is the right of all orcs!"
The speaker was none other than Nafız. After completing her words, she tore apart the tent she was in with lightning-like movements. Almost the entire army could now witness the struggle of the one-eyed man and their commanders.
"Listen to me! The man hiding inside the protection shield is a mercenary hired by the Main Orc Tribe to stop us. Do you know the terms of the agreement? Five gold for every orc head; this was the offer your noble lord proposed to have his kin killed!"
The crowd turned their attention to Nafız; the army commanders, who stopped attacking the barrier with the order they received, were also listening to her.
"What do you think the regional tribe, whose lords are such villains, did? They fled by handing over the tribe's newborn orcs to these bloodsuckers. Would you like to see what happened to your brothers?"
The Blood God knocked over the giant chests with a kick, and the rolling heads reached the feet of the warriors listening to her. In the moments when the army of fifty thousand witnessed what was happening, even those with the slightest question mark in their minds would see how wrong they were.
"Bitch, what happened came from under your head, didn't it? My dead soldiers, my exploding war machines, I will flay your skin while you are still breathing for these!"
The Blood God turned and looked at the shouting man; no matter how proud the captain of the mercenaries stood, he was just trash in Nafız's eyes.
"Groom, it seems the time has come for you to receive your wedding gift too. Approach my side!"
Çekiçdöven was very sorrowful. Aside from not being able to break the barrier, he had also taken the insults of the filth inside. With the approach of the young commander starting to walk towards her in this mood, the Blood God revealed a sword that would terrify those who saw it.
"Here, take this, groom! Both the child and the wedding happened in between, but make do with it!"
The weapon appearing suddenly was a span thick and almost as long as the young commander's height. When Nafız first saw it, she noticed how similar it was to the sword Guts used, and although she tried a few times, she finally had to accept that it wasn't suitable for her.
The young commander was looking at the extended sword with mixed feelings. For as long as he could remember, he had been using the war hammer in his hand; now if he changed it with another weapon, it would be as if he was cheating on it. He had to decide in a short time; no matter how hard it was, he immediately dismissed the thoughts passing through his mind.
As soon as he took the majestic sword in his hand, he landed a blow on the protection shield with his full power. The barrier, shaking violently at first, cracked from end to end after a duration of two breaths passed.
While the man inside watched what was happening with pleasure, he would undoubtedly feel a shiver down his spine after the last strike.
Orcs were shouting enthusiastically; especially the command echelon entering the tent first had lost themselves swearing heavily. Before long, when the young commander struck the second blow, he got rid of the trouble that had been plaguing him for a while.
"Tear him apart!"
Only a single word came out of Çekiçdöven's mouth. The rest was the job of his army attacking like hungry wolves waiting for their prey. As a result, a short while later, one of his subordinates brought the equipment remaining from the captain of the mercenaries.
Taking the transportation ring, Çekiçdöven distributed the rest to his assistants in the command echelon. He now had two weapons, and carrying them on him was quite difficult. The young commander, immediately throwing the gift sword into his wristband, would put his hammer on his back continuing his old habit.
"Should we have interrogated him a bit first? We would have learned the location of the rest of the tribe!"
Looking at the severed heads at her feet, Nafız felt a bit of regret for not intervening in the event. There should be a tribe of at least ten thousand people here; now they would struggle to find them in the vast land.
"No need, we stopped by here before besieging Parthenia. In case of any mishap, they showed us where they would hide!"
The reason for the young commander's comfort became clear; now it was just necessary to wait for the army to reorganize. Nafız felt a bit of fatigue too; separating from the crowd around her, she started walking to find a quiet place.
While she was covered with the blood of the people she killed, she was happy that today's harvest was fruitful. The blood essences of the mercenaries were mediocre, but hoping to find better in these lands was equivalent to dreaming in vain.
While the Blood God was lost in thoughts, she suddenly felt a throbbing in her right arm. Her gaze would involuntarily turn to the rabbit tattoo.
Although she covered it with her long-sleeved armor, she knew exactly where it was and decided to meet her spirit animal by placing her hand on it.