Although Çekiçdöven gave up on himself, after his enemy's words, he remembered that there were people he would leave behind. How could he die here without giving his all? He gritted his teeth and made his decision.
This life was his, and whatever ability he had belonged to him. He had killed the Glacial Region War Chief Çekiçdöven inside himself at this exact moment. He activated the bloodline ability in his veins; Warrior's Rage was active.
At the moments when Çatalboynuz felt a coldness coming from his nape spread to his body, he was clinging tightly to his new weapon.
"In front of a father who doesn't accept you, you are using the bloodline power you received from him; do you have no honor?"
The Glacial Region warrior was accusing his enemy under the influence of fear; his chief Beyaz Ayı had also become a tool in this event.
"From this moment on, I am no one's son. What is in me is mine; I don't have to answer to anyone!"
The young commander, who had determined his priorities, found himself; despite the heavy injuries on his body, his desire to fight could be understood from the sparkle in his eyes.
"Is that so; come on then, let's see what you can do with your bare hands!"
Çatalboynuz, speaking after an arrogant laugh, still thought he had the upper hand. Once the fight started, no matter what happened, events inside the war circle would not be interfered with.
Çekiçdöven hadn't had a weapon from the beginning; why should he fear when he had armor on and a giant war hammer in his hand?
"Who told you I don't have a weapon? The time has come for you to meet my new sword!"
When he finished his words, a sword almost as long as his own height and wider than a span appeared in the young commander's hands. Fifty thousand soldiers in the ranks of the Glacial Region Tribe were astonished; even Beyaz Ayı, who didn't lift a finger while his own son was on the verge of death, was all ears.
"I haven't given it a name yet; after tearing you apart, I'll handle that too!"
Çekiçdöven, under the influence of his bloodline power, lunged forward fast enough to blow the snow into the air; his giant sword was coming sweeping the ground behind him. With the power he took from his waist, he executed a swing from the side at his enemy, and considering parrying against this weapon due to its dimensions was equivalent to suicide.
Çatalboynuz blocked the incoming attack with the hammer in his hand; when metal hit metal, an ear-splitting sound made the tribe groan. Before the Glacial Region warrior, hurled back five steps, could recover, he was subjected to another blow coming from above.
Weapons would clash once more; this time the noise produced was much louder. The young commander had no intention of stopping; blending into the wind, he was raining down on his enemy. What was interesting was that he made all his strikes on his old weapon; with every blow, the form of the giant hammer was deteriorating a bit more.
"Bammmm!"
The expected happened; the weapon Çatalboynuz had just recently acquired split into three pieces; it was evident from his uglified facial expression that he didn't expect this. Just a moment ago, he was making fun of his eternal rival for not having a weapon; now he was the one in the same situation.
Taking steps backward, the Glacial Region warrior headed towards where his own tribe was located. His opponent was far superior to him; death was coming for him. While a few steps remained for Çatalboynuz to get out of the circle, Çekiçdöven, walking slowly, started running by increasing his speed.
He had seen red once; how could he let his enemy escape from his hands? With his speed increased due to his bloodline power, he would enter striking distance within two breaths.
"Çekiçdöven, you won. Leave my war chief alone!"
Beyaz Ayı ordered in an extremely harsh tone. This was his first conversation with his son after switching to enemy ranks. I'm saved, thought Çatalboynuz; he had fallen into the same situation many times and was saved thanks to the chief stopping the young commander, who was currently his enemy.
Faces of his friends right behind him were also smiling; if the person they considered a leader became the war chief, their lives would change completely too. Beyaz Ayı spent his days in his tent and almost never interfered in tribe affairs; if the person they shared a fate with for years lived, he would be equipped with as much authority as if he became the tribe chieftain.
"Ahhhhhhhhh!"
The phrase 'dreams and lives' couldn't fit a situation as well as this; Çekiçdöven made a horizontal cut with the broad sword. The orcs thinking their leader's life was saved had indeed reunited with Çatalboynuz. Even if only the upper part of his body was in their hands, a person should know to be content with less.
The young commander split his adversary in two with a single strike, and with a kick, he sent the part below the waist remaining inside the circle to the Glacial Region ranks. Since going to besiege Parthenia, Çekiçdöven was tasting a first in every war; this time too, he had disregarded the words of his father, under whose shadow he was crushed all his life, in front of everyone.
"Who are you to give me orders? I swear that the end of everyone attempting on my family's life will be like this. Now if there is anyone claiming otherwise, let them enter the war circle; even if I have to paint the region with your blood, I will force this into your heads!"
While the young commander spoke, his gaze was turned to his father's face; he had said everything coming out of his mouth looking into his eyes. Neither of them averted their eyes; after waiting in this manner for a long time, Beyaz Ayı would be the one breaking the silence.
"Congratulations Chief Alyon, you have added a magnificent warrior to your ranks! Shall we move on to the next fight?"
The tense moments would evaporate in an instant; the Glacial Tribe Chief's voice had returned to a tone caring about nothing again. Çekiçdöven would also achieve what he wanted; he was severing his ties with his father who rejected him forever.
"Before I forget, I said I would give a name to my sword, didn't I? Dedicated to the first person it cut, from now on its name will be Whore-Slayer!"
Along with his old life, he was saying goodbye to the giant war hammer too; from now on, he would live on the battlefields with the sword in his hand.
Alyon's tribe managed to win three victories in a row, and each fight had completely different stories within itself. First, orcs had watched Kitapkurdu, whom an extraordinary master looked after the moment he was ostracized by his own father, prove himself.
On the Orc Steppes where power was considered the only valid currency, the scrawny orc was born with the worst possible body, and as if this wasn't enough, he was the first son of a chief who was a legend wherever he went. Kitapkurdu had used this great pressure formed on him to advance; he was quite ruthless while displaying the studies he had been doing for a long time.
When it was Yarmagül's turn, a true orc duel took place. The relentless struggle of attack and defense was dazzling. This struggle contained a very important lesson for carefully watching eyes; the female orc appearing in the war circle with her superior physique and magnificent weapon had received many wounds by someone with a large shield and a small axe.
She had the strength and body they boasted of; then why was she pushed into a helpless situation at the beginning of the fight? The Glacial Region warrior possessed a method imposing his own rhythm on the opponent, and with this, he could cover up the subjects where he was disadvantaged.
When Yarmagül started applying the technique invented by Viento, the 3rd Generation leader of the Sacred Blood Sect, the wind suddenly turned in the opposite direction. She had shown what could happen when power and technique combined by throwing her opponent out of the large war circle with a single blow.
As for the last struggle, it had to happen in a way where one side would be destroyed. Snow-covered lands had witnessed the rebirth of an orc, unjustly ostracized from the place where he gave his all, from the impasse he fell into.
When he split his old enemy, who had been a burden to him for years, in two despite his father's order, something inside him would practically break too. He had shattered that red line standing in front of him, which he could never cross.