"This brilliant system of yours just gave me an idea."
"Don't do it, Nafız, let's just keep moving!"
Alyon tried to intervene once again and, looking at the others, motioned with his head for them to walk. Unfortunately, they didn't catch on; whereas, they should have figured out that something was wrong when someone who hadn't spoken all day stuck his neck out twice.
"What's the rush, old friend? Look, the kids aren't even budging just to hear what my brilliant idea is!"
At that moment, their facial expressions changed, but it was too late; Nafız threw her arm over the pointed shoulder of the Sheikh of the Holy Bone Sect, which looked as if it was padded, and continued speaking.
"Come on, reactivate the traps you set along the way!"
Alyon slapped his right hand against his forehead, and the resulting sound echoed as if stretching into eternity. For the others, carrying that mix of anger and sorrow unique to those who forgot to do a very important task or failed to catch on in time, it was already too late.
"How could that be? Don't get me wrong, but over my years of work, I rigged the passage with truly dangerous traps. Now you want me to activate all of them and let my friends face them. No way, absolutely not!"
The Sheikh of the Holy Bone Sect was speaking with such finality for the first time; seeing that he could get support from him, another joined the wave of objections.
"Nafız, we're having a smooth ride here. Cut the crazy shit, come on, lead the way and let's go!"
Despite being caught in a pincer movement, the Blood God looked relaxed. She looked first at Alyon and Hueso, then at the others from head to toe, as if she were reconsidering her idea one more time.
"You have to pay the piper for a sweet tune, Mr. Alyon, you know that best."
The group, taken aback by these words coming from Nafız, who had shown signs of softening, was unaware that these were just the first drops of rain. Even as they looked at each other trying to figure out what was going to happen, without exception, they were all going to get soaked to the bone.
"It's beautiful, isn't it? Three massive continents, all protected against every enemy by a single person; for the man who doesn't leave those lands, there is no death on earth.
How are the Orc Steppes, are they beautiful? I'm asking you, orcs who graduated from the Orc Military Academy, are the people living there happy and content?"
Nafız waited for an answer for ten seconds, but no sound came. It was impossible for someone seeing her current state with their own eyes to answer.
"Are orcs sent to hunt wild beasts without weapons in their hands? Is there a tribe that sells newborn orcs to trade cities to be sold as slaves? There isn't, right? Because once upon a time, two orcs dared to enter the Parthenia Trade City by boarding a vehicle heading into the unknown.
At least you tell me, Alyon, was the situation of the orcs, packed like sardines from the time they were put into wagons as babies until they reached adulthood, less dangerous than the traps in this tunnel?"
Alyon, who had the distinction of being the most massive orc in the room, could only react by shaking his head; when the lifeless bodies he had had to lie next to came to his mind, his heart wouldn't let him say more.
"The Elemental Ten, the Savage Swamp is a beautiful homeland, isn't it? As far as the eye can see, green forests, plentiful food, clean air, water, and an environment full of peace. If we had told this to the Druids who were condemned to live in a tiny fishbowl just ten years ago, they probably would have gotten pissed off thinking we were mocking them.
Could the Druids have regained their former power if a mama's boy, who didn't even know how to throw a punch, hadn't worked up the courage to tag along with two psycho orcs who constantly belittled him? These greenhorns wouldn't know; was the situation of the Druids tortured, dismembered, and raped in the camps of the Mercenaries less dangerous than the traps in this tunnel?"
The Elemental Ten bowed their heads; Nafız was right, they were just kids back then, but they had learned exactly what had happened on their continent down to the smallest detail, and this was the biggest reason why they left their legacy behind and chose this path.
"The five-year joyride is over; I made a promise to myself, either I will keep it, or I will die trying. Whoever is with me, come along; for those who aren't, I will personally give them mechanical vehicles so they can go wherever they want without bruising their delicate asses."
Finishing her words, Nafız started walking; as she proceeded through the tunnel that Hueso had surrendered back to the darkness without looking back, first a few, then dozens of footsteps started following her. After proceeding for five minutes in this passage where only three people could walk side by side, the environment suddenly changed.
"The rest of the way is like this, watch your backs and try not to die!"
The Sheikh of the Holy Bone Sect stopped at the entrance of a hollow with a ceiling higher than ten meters and a width at least as wide. The tunnel-like passage ended, and the journey began in a clearing that looked like a naturally formed cave, carved out by a river over centuries.
"The traps are active and can attack from any direction you can think of. If you think you will only face physical attacks, banish that thought immediately; some traps will attack your minds, and some will attack your souls.
Your final test before entering enemy lines begins!"
Hueso seemed to be affected by Nafız's words. Even though the Blood God hadn't said a single word about the Hell Realm, the nearly thousand-year-old man had seen everything with his own eyes. Even the place they were in meant more than pages of words for anyone willing to understand.
"Myself, Alyon, Wind of Death, Hammerstriker, and Bookworm will be on our own; the others will move in groups with their squads. Some of you I am meeting for the first time, and some of you I haven't seen in a very long time; it is the perfect time for you to show what you're made of or what you have turned into."
This time, Nafız couldn't lead the charge; the moment her words ended, the Elite Ten, the Elemental Ten, and the orcs who graduated from the Orc Military Academy dashed forward, racing each other to seize the vanguard. And right at that moment, arm-length bone spears swarming from all sides rained down on them.
"Watch out!"
With the warning, the ground shook; the bone spears, whose tips were visible, were about to break the surface, but the owner of the words wouldn't just stop at a warning. A warrior among the Elite Ten slammed his two fists into the ground; the earth rocked like a cradle. When the shockwave swept across a thirty-step radius, the spears emerging from the ground had turned into piles of bone.
"Spirit of Fire, scorch!"
The roar came from a white-haired one among the druids who called themselves the Elemental Ten. The wave of flames that broke off from the tip of the green-robed youth's staff and surrounded everyone looked practically like a wall. At the same time, it was as elegant and noble as a silk scarf fluttering in the wind.
It was like an entity with a mind of its own; while doing absolutely no harm to those inside, it melted and destroyed the incoming bone spears within its glowing embers. The Elite Ten had handled the ones coming from the ground, and the Elemental Ten took care of the ones coming from the sides, but there were still attacks breaking off from the ceiling of the cave-like hollow, and they were almost about to reach their targets.
"Absolute Reflection!"
The voice of the orc warrior was neither as powerful as his predecessor nor as charismatic as the druid warrior; it was no different from an ordinary conversation in his daily life. He slowly raised the oval-shaped shield in his hand and held it above his head.
In less than a second, the surface of the shield glowed; in the next second, it expanded enough to cover everyone, meeting the incoming bone spears. As the attacks falling onto its mirror-like smooth surface sank in, at the same time, nearly identical-looking bone spears shot back out.
Within a few breaths, a back-and-forth formed between the mirror and the ceiling; the first attacks to reach the shield were advancing towards the ones following them, as if they had switched sides. Where they fell short, new attacks reached the shield and, like the others, were deflected back in seconds.
The cycle couldn't continue for very long. When the rocks—the handiwork of the bone spears that hit the ceiling finding no target to strike—turned to dust, the destruction wrought by the first trap was laid bare.