Author's note: Based on requests and complaints I've received, I'm dropping the bold text style; I'm currently busy editing previous sections. Apparently, many English speakers are bothered by it. Anyway, it's a good thing for me; I'll spend less time editing sections.
Happy reading, and don't forget to leave a comment and rate my story!
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While the bloody struggle down in the ambush zone raged on with all its chaotic fury, just over a hundred meters away, the High Orcs had set up camp on a secure, elevated crest. Gathered around a roaring bonfire, roasting thick slabs of meat, they thoroughly enjoyed the unfolding spectacle below. Guşga and his uncles were immensely satisfied as they watched those arrogant Dark Elves completely botch their own meticulously laid ambush. After eagerly swallowing a massive chunk of meat, Guşga took a heavy gulp of liquor from his carved wooden mug. Letting out a relaxed, contented sigh, a mocking smirk crept onto his lips as he spoke.
"I am glad those arrogant purplish bastards couldn't handle this job. It seems the ambush has failed."
Sitting on the opposite side of the crackling fire, the goatee-bearded High Orc Sarkan slowly stroked his chin with his thick, calloused fingers, replying with absolute composure.
"Yes, this situation was truly unexpected... frankly, their plan was flawless."
Listening in on their conversation, Bolgad let out a booming laugh he simply couldn't contain and chimed in. Truth be told, watching the absolute mayhem unfolding below entertained him to no end.
"HAHAHAHA! THE ONE WHO RUINED THEIR PLAN IS PROBABLY THAT FALCON!"
Guşga and the rest of the young High Orcs gathered around the flames whipped their heads toward Bolgad in sheer surprise upon hearing this absurd claim. Unable to contain himself, one of the younger orcs asked with burning curiosity.
"Captain Bolgad... Are you saying that falcon managed to call for backup?"
Instead of answering the question immediately, Bolgad opened his maw as wide as he could, clamped his jagged teeth down on the cow thigh in his hand, and tore off a monstrous chunk of meat. His cheeks bulged out like balloons as he chewed. After meticulously and delightfully chewing and swallowing his mouthful, he hoisted his leather flask into the air and took a long, uninterrupted swig of his harsh liquor. Unbothered by the stray drops trickling down his chin and splashing onto his bare chest, Bolgad lowered the flask, took a deep, refreshing breath, and grinned with utter satisfaction.
"Ahhh... That's refreshing!"
Tossing the half-eaten bone aside, he finally turned his attention to Guşga and the young High Orcs, who were staring at him with attention.
"Yes, the cause of the current situation is probably that falcon. Do not underestimate animals too much, especially the ones beside the elves. A special bond can form between animals and Elves, I am talking about a connection close to brotherhood. If one of the two sides is in trouble, the other will risk absolutely everything to help them. Determination and loyalty can sometimes be the two most terrifying things in this world; thanks to these two traits, even the weakest creature can wound or kill the strongest beast at the perfect moment."
Tearing yet another massive chunk of meat from a thigh, Bolgad cast a sidelong glance at Sarkan and grinned wickedly. Deliberately lacing his voice with a thick, mocking implication, he continued.
"Ain't that right, Sarkan?"
Hearing his own name, Sarkan grimaced and rubbed his thick-skinned head in annoyance. At that very moment, as if an old memory had suddenly been jolted awake, he felt a faint twinge of phantom pain radiating from one of the countless scars on his chest. It wasn't just his chest; the deep gash on his leg and the thin, vertical cut trailing right over his eye made their presence known simultaneously. These three wounds held a highly specific, utterly infuriating meaning to him; they had been carved into his flesh just a few years ago by an impossibly bizarre warrior he had never seen coming. Guşga, meanwhile, kept shifting his curious gaze between his two uncles, trying desperately to grasp what was going on; he couldn't quite fathom where this veiled banter between them was leading.
"Why did Uncle Bolgad use such a mocking tone?"
Bolgad chuckled. He pulled out the Elven arrow from his belt—the very one Elladan had shot and he had snatched right out of the air—and began to casually pick his teeth with its razor-sharp tip. Sarkan merely glared daggers at his tactless, loudmouthed brother across the fire, heaving a deep, exasperated sigh. Then, turning his hardened eyes to his nephew, he slowly began his tale.
"... A few years ago, I fought a human warrior. He was much younger than you, perhaps only eighteen years of age... At first, I didn't take him seriously, but his fighting style was completely unlike anyone I had ever seen..."
Hearing these words spill from his uncle's mouth, Guşga grew even more intrigued and listened with rapt attention. Like every young orc with war coursing through his veins, he harbored a deep fascination for old dueling tales and memories of grueling combat. Feeling his nephew's fiery, eager gaze fixed upon him, Sarkan continued his story without pause.
"... Whether they are the monsters, elves, dwarves, or humans we fight, they all have a specific combat pattern. They fight solely focused on the weapon they were trained to wield."
Guşga and the other young orcs around the fire, who had grown dead silent to listen, slowly nodded in agreement with their uncle's wisdom. Amidst the crackling of the roaring flames, Sarkan spoke on.
"But this boy used absolutely everything he could get his hands on as a weapon. Stones, thorns, poisonous vines... he actively utilized nature itself, or even his own body, in the fight. I underestimated him initially, and because of that grave mistake, he managed to plunge a sword straight into my leg."
Finishing his sentence, Sarkan made a slow, deliberate movement where he sat, pulling aside the edge of his leather leg armor to reveal the horrifying, deep scar that split his thick flesh cleanly down the middle. As he continued his tale, Sarkan brought his hand up to his massive chest. With his thick, rough fingers, he gently traced the shallow but immediately noticeable scar marring his skin, vividly reliving the memory in his mind's eye.
"Capitalizing on the sheer shock I experienced from having my leg pierced, he acted with blinding speed and slashed my chest. But my reflexes kicked in; I leaned back just in time, so the wound was superficial. Then, at the very tail-end of his lunge, the warrior nimbly twisted his blade and aimed straight for my head."
Right after these words, Sarkan slid his hand further up, brushing his fingers over that thin, vertical gash running right across his eye, and carried on.
"I narrowly dodged death once again, then I struck him with a brutal punch and knocked him into the river. I don't know if he lived or died, but I wounded him grievously."
Guşga and the rest of the young High Orcs gathered around the fire stared at Sarkan as if they had swallowed their own tongues in utter disbelief. One of the youngest and most impulsive orcs among them could bear it no longer and blurted out in immense bewilderment.
"Are you not the fourth strongest warrior of our entire tribe, Lord Sarkan? How could a mere human child wound you so?"
Hearing this question, Sarkan chuckled self-mockingly as he recalled that fleeting moment from his past. After his deep voice faintly echoed into the dark night, he answered in a serene tone.
"He looked like a human, but I am still not entirely sure that he actually was one. He possessed physical strength far greater than any mortal man. He caught me completely off guard, but the fault was entirely mine... I unintentionally acted far too arrogant..."
The very moment Sarkan finished his sentence, Bolgad erupted into a boisterous fit of laughter on the other side of the fire. His old friend's humiliating blunder from years ago amused him to no end. It wasn't just him, either; the other veteran High Orcs who had been silently listening to the conversation all along began to snicker under their breaths. Bolgad laughed so hard that he wiped away a tear pooling at the corner of his eye with his giant finger before speaking.
"HAHAHAHA! YOU SAID YOU WERE GOING ON A SIMPLE HUNT, BUT WHEN YOU RETURNED, ONE OF YOUR LEGS WAS NEARLY CRIPPLED FOR GOOD! AFTER THAT STORY, THE CHIEF AND THE OTHERS LAUGHED AND MOCKED YOU FOR A LONG TIME!"
Sarkan acted as if he couldn't care less about his boisterous, mocking friend. He grabbed the juicy, roasted meat sizzling on the fire by its bone and pulled it out. Slowly standing up, he turned his back to them and took a few heavy steps to observe the ongoing ambush site below. Seeing his distant demeanor, Bolgad clicked his tongue against his palate and continued his taunts in a mocking tone.
"TCH, TCH! You're sulking like a little girl."
While the other High Orcs chuckled among themselves upon hearing this, Sarkan stopped dead in his tracks as if his feet were nailed to the ground. His back was turned to them, but his mouth and eyebrows began to twitch violently with rage; nevertheless, he absolutely refused to let the others see this expression on his face. Taking a deep breath, he quickly composed himself. When he slowly turned back to them, there was a gaze as cold as ice in his eyes. Locking his stare onto Bolgad, he spoke in an incredibly sarcastic and dangerous tone.
"Bolgad, would you like the Chief's wife to learn about your little escapades and your secret?"
These few words acted like a bucket of ice water dumped right over Bolgad, who had just been making the area ring with his laughter. The mocking, cheerful orc from a moment ago was gone, replaced by someone who had frozen solid, turned entirely to stone. He had never, ever expected Sarkan to hit below the belt and make such a low blow. After seeing Bolgad's state, Sarkan turned his head slightly and cast a meaningful glance at his two other brothers by the fire.
"And what about you?"
The pair, who had initially chuckled, enjoying Bolgad's difficult situation and his past pain, were completely thrown off balance upon hearing this question. Then, just like Bolgad, they too froze where they sat; their dark green skin had practically turned a stark white from sheer terror. Observing the situation closely, Guşga immediately realized his uncles were mixed up in something that would make his mother furious enough to burn everything to the ground if she heard it, and he quietly sank into silence. His mother was a terrifying High Orc warrior who had even given his father a very hard time in combat back in the day, and she was still the second strongest figure in the entire tribe. No one in the whole tribe, including Chief Gugalat, would even entertain the thought of angering her. Right now, there was only one horrifying nightmare flashing through the minds of Bolgad and the other two High Orcs: being beaten mercilessly for hours and humiliated in front of the whole tribe by their sister-in-law, who would be driven mad with rage, turning into something akin to a multi-headed hydra. Breaking out in cold sweats despite his massive frame, Bolgad looked at Sarkan and protested with a trembling voice.
"You can't do this! This is an open betrayal of our brotherhood code!"
Against his desperate thrashing, Sarkan merely smirked coldly and ruthlessly. Locking his deeply serious eyes onto Bolgad, he gave a clear, one-word answer.
"Try me."
Faced with such a blatant and threatening betrayal from a friend and brother he had fought shoulder-to-shoulder with for years, Bolgad turned practically crimson with shame and fury. Breathing heavily through his nose just like an enraged bull in an arena, steam was practically rising from the top of his head. Blind with rage, he reached for his heavy weapon beside him. Wanting nothing more than to lunge forward, beat Sarkan to a pulp, and put him in his place, he roared with immense fury.
"NOW I'M GONNA B- UMMM! UHMM!"
But before Bolgad could even realize what was happening, his two brothers beside him threw themselves onto him in a blind panic. While one desperately tried to pin down Bolgad's massive arms, the other clamped his hands tightly over Bolgad's giant mouth, speaking in pure terror.
"SHUT YOUR MOUTH, BOLGAD!"
"DO NOT DRAG US DOWN INTO THE DARKNESS WITH YOU!"
"MMMM! HMM! UMMHU!"
With his mouth firmly clamped shut by two sets of hands, Bolgad couldn't stay still out of sheer spite, thrashing about furiously. Raising his weapon in the air with his free hand, he pointed it at Sarkan, continuing his mute challenge. Sarkan, however, paid this chaotic scuffle no mind whatsoever. Approaching with perfectly calm steps, he walked right up to the struggling Bolgad, who was tightly restrained by the others, and calmly stole the liquor resting on the ground beside him. Then, acting as if absolutely nothing had happened, he turned his back, completely ignored him, and strolled toward his own corner. Seeing himself mocked so casually and his drink stolen, Bolgad went even crazier, struggling like a madman, but his two brothers, realizing this was now a matter of life and death, held onto him far tighter.
"CALM DOWN, YOU FOOL!"
"I HAVEN'T HAD MY FILL OF LIFE YET, BOLGAD! I WON'T LOSE MY LIFE BECAUSE OF YOU!"
Thrashing with all his might just to catch a breath and break free from their grip, Bolgad began to swear at the top of his lungs to vent the colossal rage burning inside him.
"MMMMM! UHMMM! MMMMM!"
Although the words were indecipherable since his mouth was covered, both of them understood perfectly well from the tone of his muffled sounds that Bolgad was hurling incredibly creative and heavy insults at them. Filled with immense rage and exasperation, they both snapped back simultaneously.
"SHUT YOUR DAMN MOUTH!" x2
Witnessing this scene, Guşga cast a bizarre, questioning look at his uncles writhing on the ground. Deep down, he was genuinely dying to know what kind of mess they had gotten into that would drive his mother so mad and terrify them so profoundly. Standing up with heavy movements, he grabbed a thick, perfectly roasted slab of meat from above the fire and quietly sidled up next to Sarkan. Before taking a bite of the meat in his hand, Guşga fixed his curious eyes on Sarkan and spoke in a hushed whisper.
"Uncle... What did Uncle Bolgad and the others do to be so terrified of my mother?"
Instead of answering his question immediately, Sarkan calmly bit into the meat in his hand with his massive teeth and tore off a chunk. After swallowing it, he took a deep swig from Bolgad's liquor skin that he had just confiscated and relaxed with visible pleasure. Then, purely to drive the still-restrained Bolgad on the ground completely insane, he raised the liquor skin into the air, shook it, and yelled in a loud, incredibly irritating voice.
"HMM! A VERY REFRESHING DRINK! THANK YOU, BOLGAD!"
Hearing these mocking words, Bolgad's dark green complexion morphed into a bright, sickly shade of red in mere seconds. He looked like an angry volcano right on the verge of erupting. Fixing his bloodshot eyes on Sarkan, he managed to free his mouth from the giant hands covering his face with one final, desperate effort and roared.
"SARKAN! COME AND FIGHT ME IF YOU HAVE THE COURAGE! I WILL-! HMMMM! UMMM! MMMMMMMM!"
But before he could finish his sentence, the other two High Orcs immediately intervened, forcefully slamming him back down to the ground, clamping his mouth shut, and silencing him once more. Sarkan merely reacted to these desperate struggles with a light chuckle. He gently handed the liquor skin to Guşga and spoke in a serious yet remarkably relaxed manner.
"If you are curious, I can tell you a few things, but give me your word as a warrior that you will keep it a secret."
Taking the offered liquor skin, Guşga nodded in response without a single trace of hesitation.
"I give you my word."
He then brought the skin to his lips and slowly began to sip the harsh liquor. Right at that moment, Sarkan dropped the bomb as if he were casually talking about the weather.
"Bolgad had been secretly training Lioness since she was ten years old and making her fight certain monsters."
"PFFFT-"
With this unimaginable sentence, Guşga was thrown into a state of absolute shock. He sprayed every drop of the liquid he had just taken into his mouth and hadn't yet swallowed straight forward, then began to cough violently and uncontrollably as the liquor went down the wrong pipe.
"COUGH COUGH COUGH!"
Clutching his throat with one hand and leaning on his knee with the other, he barely managed to pull himself together. Once he somewhat regulated his breathing, he glared directly at Sarkan, his eyes wide with utter outrage.
"HE DID WHAT! HE DID WHAT!"
Faced with his nephew's entirely justified outburst, Sarkan merely shrugged dismissively and continued the story.
"It was the girl's own wish; after all, she lives in a tribe full of warriors."
Gritting his teeth, Guşga glared fiercely at his uncle. He didn't raise his voice, but beneath his words simmered a storm-laden tone, ready to erupt at any given moment.
"There was no need for her to do this! We protect our little sister; she is far too fragile and delicate for such things! What if something had happened to her!"
After slowly scratching his head, Sarkan spoke with brutal honesty.
"Actually, she did get injured a few times. I'm surprised you never noticed."
Guşga was utterly dumbfounded by what he had just heard. As if wanting to blatantly deny the sentence his uncle had just uttered, he stared at his face with an expression of pure disbelief.
"WHAT DID YOU SAY!"
His mind rapidly drifted back to the past, to those mundane days, and began to piece the events together. He recalled how their youngest sister, the one they all doted on, would sometimes grimace and struggle even while doing simple chores around the house. Back then, she had managed to evade the questions of Guşga and their family every single time by making up flimsy excuses like mere exhaustion or clumsiness. As Guşga fully grasped this reality, he buried his head between his two massive hands in profound shock and disappointment.
"DID THIS GIRL LIE TO HER ONLY BIG BROTHER! TO ME! TO HER GREATEST CONFIDANT!"
Right as he was lamenting to himself, a far more crucial detail suddenly struck his mind. Snapping his head up to look at his uncle, he asked with intense anxiety and vehemence.
"DOES MY FATHER KNOW ABOUT THIS?"
Faced with this sudden question, Sarkan nodded with an utterly relaxed demeanor.
"Do you really think secret affairs could take place in the tribe without the Chief's knowledge? Especially when those conducting these secret affairs are the Green Raiders and his own adopted daughter?"
Upon learning that his father was also involved in this, Guşga spoke with immense bewilderment, his mouth hanging half-open.
"My father allowed this to happen?"
Confirming his nephew's sheer shock, Sarkan bobbed his head up and down as he continued to explain.
"Lioness convinced him... with a highly effective method of persuasion..."
Hearing this, and knowing his father's notoriously harsh temperament all too well, Guşga stared at Sarkan with an uncomprehending, blank gaze and muttered.
"Which trick of hers did she use? The crying puppy look? The dramatic little girl? Or the adorable little princess?"
Hearing these possibilities, Sarkan chuckled in a bizarre, awkward manner and scratched the back of his neck.
"She combined all three and used them simultaneously, and the Chief's heart melted... Besides, Lioness had to do this."
Unable to decipher the hidden meaning beneath this final sentence, Guşga looked at his uncle with deep curiosity; he absolutely could not understand why his little sister would be forced into such a thing. Sarkan, casting aside his slightly mocking demeanor, let out a deep, sorrowful sigh before speaking in a grave tone.
"You have to understand, Guşga. How much does a human girl struggle living among the High Orcs? Especially while living in the household of the strongest?"
At these words that slapped the harsh reality right in his face, Guşga's curious gaze instantly turned ice-cold. A heavy, palpable killing intent—dense enough to slowly freeze the very air around them—began to radiate from his massive body. His voice came out terrifyingly dark, sounding exactly like an enraged demon that had just clawed its way out of the deepest pit of hell.
"Is someone bullying my little sister again?"