When the conversation was over and the trio descended among the other gladiators, admiring glances were on Nafız. They also took part in bringing out the people who left the stands early. They had seen his battle with Astute with their own eyes.
“What a tragedy for you to stay in such a secluded place while I am enjoying the mansion!”
When Nafız spoke with her nose up, Alyon grinned and patted the shoulder of the man next to him.
“This guy put me in a dungeon when I first came, can you believe it?”
Morrison flushed, the incident he thought had been forgotten, slammed in the face in the most unlikely place. Nafız continued to walk, saying, “The man’s eyes are sharp!”
“Women, man, let’s drink to them tonight!”
Alyon, who mingled with the gladiators with Morrison under his arm, was thinking of drinking and having fun until the morning.
There was an extraordinary situation at the city gates, which came into operation at daybreak. While entering the city with highly tight controls, a convoy of war vehicles suddenly appeared. When all eyes were on them, the most striking thing was the symbols on their vehicles.
Above them, all were stamps in the shape of an orc fist inside a blood-red circle. An orc, who got out of the car in front with a curious look, approached the toll booth without paying attention to them.
“Open the pass where you will enter the city as guests of Lord Marcos!”
While the orc spoke in a very harsh and commanding tone, the merchants who had been here before for trade began to laugh among themselves. Parthenia was where orcs were bought and sold as slaves, along with the vilest creatures. What a joke it was to say the City Lord’s name.
Everyone was expecting an event when the teller came, but what happened was completely different from what they had expected.
“Open Entries!”
The toll clerk shouting at the gate guards, then turning to the orc that got out of the vehicle to talk to him, “Welcome to Parthenia! Please forgive me for keeping you waiting!” He said.
“You are doing your duty! If you had accepted us without question, you should have asked for forgiveness!”
Everyone’s mouths fell open as the orc turned its back and got into the vehicle. They expected to swear in the best conditions, were left without a red carpet.
The caravan reached the school of the house of Augustus by the shortest route; its comrades were waiting for them at the door. The gladiators inside the school had the luxury of watching the events as if they were watching the theater until they saw the orc descending from the middle carriage with a massive bow on his back.
Turning his gaze to the gladiators sitting on the sidelines, the aura emitted by this person almost began to suffocate them. They were confused as to what to do. They didn’t dare to even look up at the orc’s face.
“Sangre enough, what anger is this?”
When Nafız came to meet the convoy with Alyon and Morrison behind her, she scolded her student for the sight she saw. If she had not called out to the blood warrior, the gladiator’s life would have evaporated.
“Master, I learned what was done to you. Let me paint the streets of the city with human blood!”
When Nafız grabbed the shoulder of her disciple who wanted to kneel before her, Sangre spoke with a gust of fire.
“Master, I couldn’t make you believe what I said.”
The Bookworm hurriedly interrupted after his friend’s impulsive gesture. Even though the caravan was under Sangre’s protection, he was responsible for the journey.
”I understand you very well. As you can see, I’m here, and I don’t have a problem with people in the city. I warn you not to act rashly. Otherwise, you can predict what will happen!”
At the end of her speech, Nafız, who revealed her murder intention for a short time, lowered the environment’s temperature by a few degrees.
“You command, master!”
The gladiators, under pressure, breathed a sigh of relief when the roar of orc warriors shouting in unison cluttered the training ground.
“Now get some rest. We’ll be at the City Lord’s mansion for dinner when the sun goes down!”
“You two, come with us!”
When Nafız walked away with Alyon and her two students, the warriors left to set off for their resting place, accompanied by Morrison. A defensive war machine was slowly advancing towards the Lord’s Mansion as the day progressed in its routine with no further extraordinary events.
While the hosts were waiting for their guests at the magnificent table, the vehicle entered the large garden of the great castle. When the group of six rushed through the corridors of the elegant castle and arrived at the dining room, a steward would bow respectfully and open the high wooden door for them.
“Welcome, my dear friends!”
With the arrival of the guests, everyone, especially the city lord, stood up to greet them, but the scene before them was pretty interesting. Nafız and Alyon walked ahead, with two more orcs behind each.
While Alyon walked in front of Kuyag and Brutal Wall, Nafız had two disciples behind her. The smiling female orc’s left stood a person of her height, dressed in white silk with gold details, while to her right walked Sangre, dressed as if he were about to enter a pitched battle.
Nafız had come to the dinner especially wearing a war suit worn by Mora. She complimented her elegant armor set with blood-red embroideries on black leather with her hair falling from her shoulders. When she released her hair, which she always used in bulk, it was easily seen that the redness starting from the ends increased by two fingers.
Showcasing his matte black armor for the first time, Alyon was also showing off in all its glory. The orcs behind the razor-like lad, walking in the well-fitted equipment, were tidy despite their bewilderment.
Kuyag had attended the meal in the armor of ancestral grace he never took off, and Brutal Wall in a midnight blue fur over his leather trousers.
Eftelya, who was running excitedly towards the group, who had not been in such an environment before, was just as she was about to hug Nafız, and she was startled. A pair of eyes peered over the female orc’s right shoulder.
“Oh baby, oh baby, what am I going to do with you?”
After imitating Perran Kutman, Nafız, who embraced the young girl, headed towards the table with Eftelya, who had almost completely recovered. Everything was perfect; both the layout and the dishes on it, the table was set worthy of kings.
“Sit down, guys!”
Alyon would speak in a paternal tone as he stood at the table, fearing that the orcs in their group might show disrespect. With the two standing behind him and Sangre standing, his son, Bookworm, immediately collapsed next to his master.
After their chief’s words, Kuyag and Brutal Wall began to move into their chairs, but Sangre was still in place like a knife ready to be unsheathed. Alyon was a little offended by the situation; no matter her disciple, he was also an orc in his tribe and had to follow his orders.
Nafız glanced at the standing orc, and when she turned to face Sangre took his seat.
Contrary to the tense beginning, everyone around the table mingled with the conversation that became more intimate as time went on.
Even Sangre would have to put aside his bow, but no one could tear him from their daggers. In the vast hall passed after the dinner, issues such as the city’s administration, the relations that Parthenia would establish with Nikonya, and the attacks they might suffer were discussed.
“Eftelya honey, will you come with me? I’ll introduce you to someone!”
The young girl had recovered and was even past the teenage years of Athena, who her husband killed. As she glided in her candy-pink elegant outfit, everyone, without exception, stopped talking and watched her grace.
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The crowd scares me; its breath suffocates me. I feel paralyzed by his curious look, and unknown faces make me stupid.
Frederic Chopin
