The orc tribe in the region was completely destroyed; this situation brought a different idea to Nafız's mind. When she arrived at the city gates accompanied by Çekiçdöven and his army, she would run rapidly to Yarmagül's side.
The expedition had taken ten day-cycles; the young mother should have come to her senses by now. The Blood God found her inside the healing bath in her room; although she was currently asleep, she couldn't detect any sign of pain on her face.
"Who are you? Leave my mother's side immediately!"
Just as she was about to put her hand on Yarmagül's forehead to fully understand her condition, a voice mixed with fury coming from behind rang in her ear. The speaker was the person she left as a baby; he had grown up during this time and had already donned weapons.
"I am from the main orc tribe; I came here to kill the daughter of the rebel chief!"
Alyon's grandson would be dumbfounded by what he heard; was what he feared happening to him? He drew the sword at his waist and lunged forward; he had to protect his mother no matter what.
"You won't be able to lay those dirty hands on anyone!"
Nafız was looking smilingly at the orc coming at her full throttle; what a strange physiology this race had. The baby born into her hands just ten days ago was standing before her wanting to kill her.
Indeed, the baby had grown and taken an adult form, but the result would again be a disappointment for Alyon. Just like his son, this child also had a physique below normal orc standards.
"Even in this world, the boy takes after the uncle!" the Blood God couldn't help but think; only, there was something different about this child. The energy he emitted gave the feeling that some things were not yet complete.
"Come on, scrawny runt, let's see if your hand works as well as your jaw!"
Although the self-sacrificing orc tried to shield his mother with his body, his effort couldn't go beyond being comical. He was counted as a newborn; he had no battle experience.
As every move he made had to end before it started, his eyes were slowly turning red. As he failed to achieve what he wanted, he was pushing himself even more out of ambition. After a short struggle, realizing he wouldn't get a result this way, the boy threw his sword from his hand and closed his eyes.
"You asked for this, disappear!"
He had decided to use his special bloodline power; even though his mother strictly warned him, there was no other way. Suddenly, the air around him became chaotic; the skirts of his leather armor were fluttering madly.
While smiling, he thought there was no escape from this technique of his, but before five breaths passed, he started screaming in pain. A red symbol appeared on the forehead of the orc collapsing on his knees; it was evident he fell into agony due to the sign appearing more and more every moment.
"Did you think I wouldn't take precautions against a freak like you?"
This symbol was Nafız's work. While he was just a baby, she had made it using her own blood after covering him with the talismanic cloth. It was a kind of insurance; if the bloodline power was directed at her, the seal would restrain it.
"Nafız, don't mess with the kid; we haven't introduced him to anyone yet!"
When Yarmagül woke up due to the noise, she was quite calm in the face of the scene she saw; she would have had nervous breakdowns in the past, but now she understood some things. No matter how cruel the Blood God was, she knew how to restrain herself against her loved ones and their relatives.
"Stand up; no one should see the person who will be the ruler of the Orc Steppes like this in the future!"
Çekiçdöven's son was looking with amazement at the person who soothed the pain he suffered when she pressed on his head with her hand; he had specifically messed with the person he should never mess with. Actually, he wasn't at fault; it was all the work of Nafız wanting to have a little fun.
Following the short-lived commotion, when the Blood God returned to her unfinished business, she shouted angrily upon the door opening rapidly.
"Are you entering a barn, you lout?"
The person arriving was Çekiçdöven; as soon as he put his armies in order, he wanted to see his wife's condition immediately. He would also get the scolding falling to his share like his son; while moving to a corner of the room without making a sound, his eyes were on the male orc who hadn't been able to stand up yet.
Just as Nafız, whose examination attempt was prevented twice, was finally about to reach her goal, the large double-winged door opened even more harshly than before.
"Were you given to me by ration, friend; son, husband, father, you didn't give a person any peace!"
The words came out of her mouth randomly; Nafız started doing her job without giving the situation away. The orcs in the room hadn't fully understood anything either; they thought this was one of her strange states.
Three generations were face to face; Alyon went to the young orc's side and squeezed his shoulder. Although his movements seemed natural, it was obvious he was a little uneasy.
"Çekiçdöven, this orc is your son; the time has come for you to meet!"
While pushing the orc under his hand forward, there was still a doubt inside him; I wonder how the young commander would treat his son. Aware that he didn't give a good test in this regard, he wondered what kind of attitude his son-in-law would display.
As the two orcs approached each other, a scene beyond his guesses formed. Çekiçdöven wrapped his thick arms around his son and pressed him to his bosom with longing. The eyes of the orc, who lived his emotions at the extremes since time immemorial, were full; gripping his son by both shoulders, he scanned him from head to toe.
"Father, am I as you expected?"
Alyon's grandson was aware of the situation; all the orcs he saw around seemed more developed than him. He could see the first orc shorter than himself today, and he had to kneel in front of her too.
"What kind of question is this? You are exactly as you should be. You are the grandson of the legendary Orc Lord Cesuryürek's war chief Beyaz Ayı and Chief Alyon who will restore freedom to these lands!"
There was not the slightest tremor in Çekiçdöven's voice; whatever came out of his mouth was what passed through his heart. Seeing his son's sorrowful state, he shouted furiously.
"Lift your head, you will be superior to everyone. The might you need exists in the noble blood in your veins!"
When the room rang, Nafız also turned her head and looked at the orc advising his son; this pleasant coincidence experienced would make her smile. Alyon, in high spirits after his son-in-law's words, patted his grandson's back; these words had been a lesson not only to the young orc but also to himself.
"Don't worry, kid! Your uncle is scrawnier than you, but I wouldn't trade a single hair of his for a thousand cattle like your father and grandfather!"
Nafız, speaking without stopping her work while attending to Yarmagül, didn't refrain from rubbing salt into her friend's wound. Although she stayed silent in the face of injustices done to her student, it didn't mean she would forget these events.
"Blood God, how is my wife?"
Çekiçdöven rushed to Nafız's side when the introduction phase ended.
"Not very good right now, she will recover with time, but this freak will be the only child you can have together. After the destruction he created on his mother during birth, she better not expect a sibling!"
The faces of the father and son fell; both had different regrets. One took the blame for wounding his mother, the other worried thinking his wife would be sad about the situation.
"I am an orc warrior; I wasn't going to wander around with a child in my belly constantly anyway!"
When Yarmagül lying inside the healing bath shouted as if wanting to show she was gathering her strength, the father and son felt a little better.
"Alyon, shall we talk alone for a bit?"
Nafız, both to share her new idea and to leave the newly reunited family alone, grabbed her friend by the arm and left the room without needing an answer.