Ainle was walking toward the grey-haired orc with love-filled eyes; Alyon, who was at a loss for what to do, had found the solution in asking for help from his friend.
"Whoa, run brother; this one's intentions are not good!"
The situation of the man who tore apart two people with a flashy name like the Sacred Twins of the Golden Crown just a few days ago would make Nafız lose herself in laughter.
Fortunately, this disgrace wouldn't last long; when the effect of the mushroom he ate fully kicked in, the scrawny druid fainted right where he stood.
"If I hit him once, I'll go right through the man, but I can't bring myself to do it!"
While looking at Ainle, who fell asleep at his feet, with raised eyebrows, the grey-haired orc was murmuring to console himself; even if he wasn't aware of it, he had contented himself with fleeing just a moment ago because he had adopted the young druid.
"Aeife, oh sorry, I apologize very much; Mr. Alyon, it's your turn!"
Although he took it lightly, his friend beside him seemed unwilling to stop coming at him; the female orc was pressing on without waiting a minute.
"Why am I eating first?"
The stubbornness of the grey-haired orc, who usually carried out commands coming from Nafız without questioning, had kicked in this time; Alyon was offended that his name was confused on purpose.
"Right, you are wandering around like a rocket launcher; let me faint within shooting range so you can waste me too, huh?"
The question came from a place the hulking orc didn't expect at all; his friend was reminding him of the mess he made, albeit jokingly.
"Come on, did I get stuck with a scrawny one like you after all that!"
As soon as he finished his words, Alyon grabbed a mushroom from the altar and threw it into his mouth; before five minutes passed, he too was not in this world mentally, even if not physically.
"What a continent you are, brother; you won't rest until you turn us inside out!"
Finally, the female orc was also performing what she had to do; on her mind was what kind of fiction she would encounter this time.
Twice the trials passed with fights and internal journeys; it was as if they were showing her a short summary of her life in this world.
"The egg cracked, the chicks scattered; let's see what happens now!"
When she woke up, Nafız found herself sitting in a velvet-covered armchair with a magnificent backrest; this armchair, having one of the classiest examples of wood carving, felt quite comfortable too.
There was a huge hall in front of her; the side where she sat had an armchair and was empty except for Nafız; the real racket was happening on the other three sides.
The part remaining to the female orc's left was furnished in the shape of the house she lived in before she died; exactly opposite her was an orc tent, and on her right, there was furniture in a style she had never seen before.
"Get out of my room; this place belongs to me!"
While Nafız struggled with questions like "Where did I come to?" and "What is happening here?", she would be startled by a voice coming from her left; the one shouting was none other than her ten-year-old human form.
The little human child was very angry; she was practically spewing rage toward her peers looking at her from the other sides.
"You go actually; you died, why are you still standing here?"
The answer of the orc, sitting in front of the tent and brutally thrusting her thin sharp teeth into the wild animal leg in her hand, wouldn't be delayed; Nafız was experiencing the astonishment of seeing her child orc form.
"Be quiet, low life forms; while you don't even have the right to breathe in this place honored by my noble presence, how can you continue to live without shame?"
"Of course, how did I forget this; as if living two lives wasn't enough, I also inherited a consciousness!"
The female orc knew the child on the side with strange furniture very well; with red curly hair falling on the shoulders of her snow-white dress, sharp looks coming out of her eyes decorating her freckled cheeks, and her arrogant tone of voice, the one opposite her was Mora's ten-year-old form.
When the voices of the children starting to bicker mutually became grating on the ears, Nafız had to cover her ears with her hands; the internal reckoning had turned into mandatory duty at a nursery.
While the female orc struggled with an unpleasant situation, her friend Alyon had left his hair to the blowing warm breeze under the bath of sun rays warming one's inside.
"Now both of you say you are the real lineage power; I understood correctly, right?"
The hulking orc warrior was talking to the two children he took opposite him in the meadow where he sprawled. The brats, one being the childhood of Master Alyon and the other his own, were getting into a fight at every opportunity.
"Yes, I am the real lineage power of this body. Even the fact that I rose to the second level is proof of this in itself!"
The childhood of the man, who donated the power he received from his father Braveheart as an inheritance to someone he didn't know at all, would enter the conversation quite confidently; while rage could be read from his eyes, how proud he was.
"Walk on, invader! Your real lineage power is me, my man; don't ever believe that one!"
The child on whose black-turned skin small flames flickered on and off didn't seem likely to give up either; he intended to take this case to the end.
"Look here, little ones; I am not smart enough to deal with these matters. We need to reach a conclusion very simply; why don't we decide who is right in the orc way?"
Both children had turned all their attention to the grey-haired orc; judging by the sly smile sitting on their faces, they had already realized what he would say.
"Fight, brats; whoever wins, what he says goes!"
The moment Alyon put forward his best idea coming to mind, the duo possessing tiny hands had plunged into each other; the duel of wrath and frenzy was beginning.
In the moments when the two orcs confronted the children inside them, the other guest of the dungeon was crying in sobs; before him were images from old times, a past time he had almost forgotten.
"Father, brother, do you have to go?"
Little Ainle, around five years old, had clung to the trouser legs of two druids considerably older than him; he was begging in tears just like his older version watching him.
"Ainle, my beautiful son, if we didn't have to, how could we leave you and your mother behind!"
When the druid, whose white hair was carelessly gathered behind him, spoke with a sigh, his eyebrows trembled with sadness; judging by this situation incompatible with his imposing appearance, it was very evident that his inside was torn apart.
"Ainle, didn't I entrust my mother to you? If you do this, my mind will stay here, brother!"
As for the young druid, he scolded the small child as if half scolding, half giving advice; he seemed to reproach his brother slightly, whose head pressed against his leg he stroked.
"Don't go, we are safe here!"
Outside the shield surrounding the Main Orc Settlement, the siege was continuing; Ainle's plea, who was aware of the situation even if small, wasn't in vain.
"Okay, are our continent, trees, animals, captive kinsmen also safe, Ainle? Is it right for us to live comfortably while they are in a miserable state? This life is just a drop within the infinite cycle; even if so, I don't want to breathe without doing it justice!"
The man, forcibly separating his child's hands from himself, and his elder son would proceed rapidly through the passage opened for them to exit the shield without turning their backs again.
All that happened was like a movie scene; as a result, the dramatic state of the child who collapsed to the ground holding his head between his two hands remained for the viewers.
Actually, there was one more person witnessing what happened, and he was none other than the grown-up version of the tiny child.
Watching his most tragic memory buried in the depths of his mind, the scrawny druid would struggle with himself for a very long time to take his first step, without minding the tears dripping from his nose which had turned red.
The heartache he experienced then had come and sat right in the middle of his heart; he was writhing again in the claws of weakness and helplessness.