A tall, hulking orc stepped forward with the axe in his hand. Everyone understood he was the person whose name the chief called. The warriors of the Glacial Region Tribe, silent until that moment, would also find their voices; it was obvious this orc had quite a few supporters.
"Tear the traitor apart, Çatalboynuz!"
"Cripple him!"
"Show everyone who the real war chief is!"
His sidekicks were shouting at the top of their lungs. Their chief had sent the person they saw as their leader to fight against his ostracized son. On Alyon's side, complete silence prevailed; fire was shooting only from one person's eyes.
His son, watching what happened beside his mother, was about to explode in the face of what was done to his father. As he held himself back, the shouting increased instead of ending. Just as his patience ran out and he stepped forward, a hand grabbed his shoulder. The young orc turned around furiously; who dared this impudence?
"Be patient, my grandson. When your father finishes off his opponent, your turn will come!"
Chief Alyon observed the situation and intervened immediately; his young grandson had to bottle up his anger. Çekiçdöven's head was also bowed; despite being subjected to all kinds of insults, he hadn't answered any of them, hadn't even turned to look. The moment Çatalboynuz stepped into the fighting circle, the Glacial Region Tribe Chief spoke again.
"In the fight, you will represent our tribe not as an ordinary member but as the new war chief. Accept this as a gift given for your new duty!"
Beyaz Ayı finished his words and, reaching behind the throne he sat on, threw something quickly towards the sky. The object coming spinning in the air into the fighting circle seemed quite large; with all eyes on it, it would stick into the ground in front of Çatalboynuz.
Now everyone had clearly seen what it was; although they were surprised to death, they couldn't find a word to say. He had gifted the war hammer, which he forged for his son many years ago and was used by him until today, to someone who would fight him.
"Great Chief Beyaz Ayı, I am grateful for the gift you have given. I will repay it by killing this traitor who betrayed our tribe!"
Çekiçdöven and Çatalboynuz were eternal rivals and enemies. There was no one who didn't know the competition between these two orcs reaching adulthood at almost the same time. In fact, the new war chief of the Glacial Region Tribe had received his name because of the person opposite him; whenever he liked a female orc and wanted to breed, that person was snatched by Çekiçdöven.
Indeed, he was the best warrior after Beyaz Ayı's son; he was ruthless and cruel. Now that the opportunity for years of accumulated revenge had fallen into his hands, how could he not want to handle the job from the root?
"This is the determination I expect. Death is the right of those afraid to give their lives by disobeying their chief's order!"
Beyaz Ayı spoke extremely harshly; even the warriors in his tribe were surprised at this attitude of their chief, who was aggressive above normal. As if sending his greatest enemy against his son wasn't enough, he was asking him to kill him by giving the weapon that was his symbol into his hands.
Alyon's son-in-law seemed not to be living in these moments. While all these surprising events took place, the mountain-like orc's shoulders had slumped forward; he remained tiny. He was always cheerful, known for making big and exaggerated speeches, but no one could guess these were escape routes he found because he was overwhelmed by his responsibilities.
His life had passed with a despotic father and the pressure of constantly being the best until he was defeated by the orc who was the mother of his child. He had a son; he no longer had to prove himself all the time, he could make healthier decisions.
This change he experienced would stop as soon as he stepped onto the glacial lands; while his old traumas surfaced, his father's cruel attitude had thoroughly ruined his psychology. Although he knew he currently had a very important task, he felt like he had fallen into a dark well with no bottom visible. He was constantly falling, and he wasn't sure he would hit the bottom at the end of the day.
After receiving the approval he expected, Çatalboynuz didn't stop even for a moment; he landed a blow on his enemy, to whose side he came running, with his new weapon. He would hold back in the first strike with the fear that a surprise counterattack would come; after all, the person opposite him was the one he had constantly lost to until today.
The expected didn't happen; the young commander did nothing against the attack coming from his old hammer. After taking the relatively light blow to his body, he only stumbled three or five steps; his gaze was still on the snow. Çatalboynuz's eyes shone; he executed a hard swing towards his opponent who recovered immediately.
"Thud!"
This time the blow was substantial; the damage it would create could be calculated from the sound produced. Çekiçdöven met this blow without defending just like the previous one. He was hurled about ten steps; the right part of the leather armor on him seemed completely torn off.
Both sides were surprised; this state of theirs would peak after the third blow landing on the young commander's torso. He took the blow right from the front; after gliding in the air for a while, he fell in front of the section where his warriors were.
Even though he didn't receive a response to the two attacks he made, Çatalboynuz, who never stopped being on alert even for a moment, relaxed with this last strike. The person standing opposite him, who had accepted death, inside whom something was broken, had no chance against him. As if wanting to take revenge for the first fight, lifting Çekiçdöven by his hair into the air, he turned him towards the soldiers under his command.
"Here is your pathetic commander! When I take his life in a moment, you will be able to witness beforehand what will happen to you later!"
Everyone in Çekiçdöven's army of fifty thousand was like an arrow about to shoot from the bow; if not for the training they received and their orc pride, they would have torn the person saying these words apart long ago. Çatalboynuz was their commander's enemy; it was also not possible for them to humiliate Çekiçdöven by begging him for his life.
"Release my father immediately!"
A sharp voice came out from the crowd; its owner was Alyon's grandson standing right in front. After finding the speaker, the new war chief of the Glacial Region started laughing.
"Look at daddy's lamb! Don't rush; after taking the life of this trash, your turn will come too!"
Speaking without knowing where to stop with the intoxication of victory, Çatalboynuz bit off more than he could chew. Alyon, pulling his grandson immediately behind him, fixed his eyes on him, and his daughter beside him had also made her move to take her axe in her hand.
Father and daughter were ready for action; they were waiting to go on the attack with all their strength at the slightest movement. Meanwhile, Nafız, who had been silent for a long time, suddenly started speaking.
"Calm down, there will be no need for you!"
The words didn't come out of an ordinary person's mouth; the Blood God possessed the might to turn the wide plain into a pool of blood whenever she wanted. Beyaz Ayı was also on alert; he ordered his warriors to be ready for a conflict situation that could happen at any moment.
Within the twenty breaths passing after Alyon's grandson spoke, everyone focused outside the fighting circle; only Nafız was observing the condition of Çekiçdöven, who hadn't been himself since coming to the Glacial Region.
Steam started rising from the man, who was exhausted after the blows he received and disgraced in his enemy's hands. Since the heat he emitted increased after a while, his enemy whose hand burned would also retreat a few steps rapidly.
"Whose son are you saying you will kill!"
This was the first word coming out of his mouth since the beginning of the day; it was his child's voice saving him from the dark corridors he fell into. What he heard immediately after would cause a flood of anger that couldn't be dammed.