Çekiçdöven was proud and had his head high on the way back, but he was also heavily wounded. As soon as he got out of the war circle, his wife would support him by the shoulder; Yarmagül was also looking at Nafız as if asking for help.
"Okay, I'll help; Kitapkurdu, go deal with that brother-in-law of yours! Thank God for Dilber; otherwise, this unstable guy would have died many times by now!"
In her student's transportation ring, there was healing water from the giant black turtle Dilber, the guardian of the dungeon in the Sacred Lands. He had no authority to use it without his master's permission, but since the situation wasn't suitable for another solution, she had given approval for this once.
Meanwhile, Alyon was busy whispering something into his grandson's ear; they were making final preparations for the next fight. While his parents headed towards the nearest warrior tent, the young orc calmly entered the war circle.
When he reached the middle, after scanning the orcs surrounding him on four sides with his eyes, he started speaking so everyone could hear.
"Those who honored this area before me were my uncle, my mother, and my father. Since I haven't been granted the ancestors' favor, I don't have a name yet, but I can tell you whom my lineage relies on!"
Although quite some time had passed since his birth, as he said, he didn't have a name. Alyon and Nafız had thought of addressing him according to the item he would receive from the first reward dungeon; therefore, he didn't have the chance to introduce himself like those who fought before.
Taking a deep breath, Çekiçdöven's son turned his gaze to the enemy tribe chief Beyaz Ayı and continued his words.
"I am the grandson of Chief Alyon, the person who will restore freedom to the Orc Steppes, and the legendary warrior Demirdöven, the closest brother-in-arms of the true orc lord Cesuryürek!"
While speaking just like his father, the young orc looked into the enemy chief's eyes. Upon this, Beyaz Ayı, sitting on his throne with always calm and indifferent attitudes, suddenly jumped to his feet. Ignoring the surprised looks of the warriors under his command, he was looking at the orc standing in the middle of the war circle in terror.
The name Alyon had made him suspicious a bit, but since Ayıboğan was his old student's close friend, he thought he might have given this name to this orc emerging from his tribe. After fitting it into a certain logic, he hadn't thought about this subject further, until a youngster shouted the name he hadn't used for a hundred years to his face today.
The story that he was Cesuryürek's friend was widely known, but he hadn't told his real name even to his own child. Except for a few people in the main orc tribe, it should have been impossible for anyone to know this.
"Your opponent is me, traitor spawn. I will take revenge for what your father did to our brother!"
An orc with an axe in his hand and Çatalboynuz's undried blood on his face started shouting while entering the war circle from the Glacial Region ranks.
"This business won't end here; you killed our war chief, our grudge won't leave you alone. We will plunder your tribes, burn you alive, flay your skin! The end awaiting you and your father will be the worst; you will beg to die! Before your eyes, all warriors will rape your mother. For days, for nights, until she can no longer breathe!"
The Glacial Region Warrior seemed to have lost his mind; no matter what, the person facing him was the grandson of their own tribe's chief. To say such harsh words, he had to have lost his mental balance.
Çatalboynuz's death had brought him to this state. They had gotten so carried away with the dream of days spent in pleasure that when their hopes split in two fell upon them, their balance was disrupted.
"Shut your mouth, impudent dog. While we are here, let alone you, even if your king comes, he cannot touch a hair on our commander's family!"
"Chief Alyon, allow us; let's tear this ignoble person apart!"
Çekiçdöven's warriors were about to catch fire with rage. What was said had surpassed a provocation made before the war and turned into an open threat.
"Wait, when the fights are over, we will do whatever we said!"
"We will flay all of you and throw you into the Cursed Lake!"
"Traitor bastards, your time of death has come!"
The friends of the Glacial Region warrior, saying unbelievable words in the war circle, had also come to the border of the fighting area and taken position as if they would attack at any moment. This group was about a thousand people; they had also seen red like the tactless warrior.
"Cut it out!"
A sound resembling thunder ended all the chaos; his opponent's immorality had exhausted the young orc's patience.
"I will give only a single chance to you speaking ill of my family and my father's army. Kneel immediately and apologize, and I will spare your lives!"
There wasn't a single mimic on the young orc's face; his words were as sharp as a knife, as hard as steel.
"Did you hear, boys? If we kneel in front of this hairless one, he would give up killing us!"
The friends outside the war circle would also accompany the Glacial Region warrior ending his words with a wild laugh.
"Die!"
The young orc threw the short sword he carried in his hand to the ground; closing his eyes, it was as if he wanted to enter a trance state. This movement was met with astonishment by people who didn't know his unique bloodline ability, while his opponent had found his best opportunity to attack.
He took action to kill his enemy; in his mind, he was making plans on how to cut him slowly. If his adversary had plans, Alyon's grandson had a legendary power. Before the orc who saw red could take his second step, he suddenly petrified where he was; his eyes opened wide, his head shaking meaninglessly.
This scene wasn't happening only inside the fighting circle; his friends in the Glacial Region ranks were also making strange movements in the same way. The voice of the group causing unruliness just a moment ago was cut; their faces had assumed an ugly expression as if they couldn't breathe.
Not even ten breaths had passed when these orcs collapsed on their knees at the same time as their friend from whose mouth baseless words came out. Their states were miserable; other warriors beside them would immediately put distance between them out of fear.
No one could know what they experienced. As if an iron claw was squeezing their throats, their life energies were leaving their bodies moment by moment. The only thought in their minds was to beg for forgiveness from the scrawny orc standing with closed eyes in the war circle.
They wanted to speak, struggled to beg for their lives, to throw themselves at his feet, but their efforts were futile. Every time they tried to speak, the pressure on their throats increased; as they wanted to move, the amount of life energy drawn from their bodies also increased.
When twenty breaths passed since the young orc finished his speech, the orcs turned into dried vegetables couldn't endure any longer and fell to the ground. What happened was extremely mysterious; although no one fought apparently, there were more than a thousand corpses in the middle.
It was the first time orcs outside his family saw the unique bloodline power; voices were coming from everywhere. Both armies mixed; whispered conversations combining caused a great hum.
"Silence!"
The owner of the voice was the young orc inside the war circle; he had said only a single word, and the crowd of a hundred thousand had closed their mouths a breath later. This was the magnitude of the horror Çekiçdöven's son created; this was the might of the noble blood in his veins.
"What is important for an orc? Were you killing each other for worthless things like power, gold, rank for a hundred years? An orc lives for his family, puts his life on the line to protect them!
A person who cannot protect his own blood can be of no benefit to either his tribe or the Orc Steppes!"
Since the beginning of the day, his family who offered him only their love was wanted to be subjected to death threats, insults, and suffering. The young orc was fed up; after intimidating the enemy, he laid down the law and left the war circle.
This war and what happened after had touched the hearts of all orcs; even Nafız, acting at the master level in indifference, sighed deeply and called out to her friend Alyon.
"We will name the child Han. As the Khan of the Orcs, he will be the person who will rule this continent for centuries!"