Even though Wind of Death and Bookworm were familiar with the abilities of the others, Nafız was only clued in on the skills of the Elite Ten. The fire element-based attack of the druid warrior and the property of the unknown orc warrior's equipment seemed to have caught her interest.
"Your shield looks pretty handy. What is the usage restriction?"
The red-haired orc warrior, who advanced with confident steps through the ruins formed by bones—some turned to dust, some burned to ashes, and some shattered into pieces—was just a breath away from the owner of the shield.
The current state of the orc warrior, who had been strutting his stuff and scanning the surroundings with a proud gaze after showing off his skill, was a sight to see. The fingers on which the shield, now shrunk to a small ring, was worn were trembling, and his whole body was shaking right along with them. Facing Nafız, who was a head shorter than him, he couldn't maintain his upright posture; burying his shoulders into his body, he involuntarily wanted to make himself smaller.
"Chill out! I just want the answer to the question I asked!"
Pulling back the pressure she was unconsciously radiating, Nafız watched the change in the others as she finished her words. She was no longer a pathetic orc who had just received Mora's legacy, nor a weak human working in a copy center; she was a legendary figure whose name was known even in the darkest corners of the World of Six Civilizations, and whose deeds were passed from mouth to mouth among the orcs. If she didn't keep a lid on the aura of destruction brought by what she had been through when approaching the others, there was no way her interlocutor could stand comfortably before her.
"The daily usage limit of the shield I gained as an Ancestors' Blessing is…!"
At this point in the conversation, the orc warrior gathered all his courage, leaned towards Nafız's ear, and whispered. No one else heard what he said besides Nafız; the others might be their friends for now, but as Orc Chief Alyon had once said, you never knew what the winds of greed would blow to your doorstep.
"Who is your instructor at the academy?"
With the relief of fulfilling his duty, the orc warrior was returning to his upright and proud posture, but with the wind brushing past his face, he started trembling all over again. This time it wasn't just him; all ten graduates of the Orc Military Academy were in the same boat; like flowers blooming out of season trying to resist harsh winds, they were being tossed around right where they stood.
"I asked you, tell me your instructor's name!"
"Master!"
Bookworm wanted to step in; he knew his master wasn't one to keep her cool after repeating the same question twice, and things went down exactly as he guessed. The blood-red energy wave overflowing from the slender green body engulfed the ten orcs and forced them all to drop to their knees. These were the individuals the Orc Military Academy had handpicked to send to the Homeland of the Mercenaries for the invasion mission; they should have been able to put up a fight somehow, but none of them used a skill or equipment, just continuing to suffer in agony.
"Nafız, isn't this going overboard even for you? Did we brave all those hardships and get to this day just to make our own kin suffer!"
As the events that pushed Alyon to speak more today than the total of the last few days came one after another, it was clear from the tones of rage hidden within the high pitch of Nafız's uncompromising voice.
"I said, what is your instructor's name?"
The rising screams began assaulting the ears like needles forged from pain; the female orc bearing the title of Blood God looked like she had decided to put the ten orc warriors through hell on earth. Every breath they took turned into torture, and as they tried to resist, new red stains were added to their blood-soaked clothes.
"I am asking for the last time; either give me your instructor's name or die!"
There was no sound other than the cries accompanying the torture until the orc bodies hit the ground one after another.
"Gray Owl, their instructor's name is Gray Owl!"
The blood-red aura turned into a vortex and returned to Nafız's body in the blink of an eye. The scene, which resembled a portrait of people suffering during eternal damnation, thus came to an end, but the person who spoke the instructor's name would speak once more when she reached the side of the warriors on the ground.
"You were always like this, you dragged even me, your best friend's daughter, to death's door, but every time there was a valid reason for it. Now, I can't wrap my head around why you did such a thing; tell me, the strongest warrior of the orcs, why?"
Even though the words she chose made it look like she was questioning the person across from her, her tone belonged to someone rebelling. Wind of Death, checking each of them one by one, was somewhat relieved to find they were alive, but her gaze said she wouldn't back down until she got an answer.
It wasn't just her; everyone inside the cave was a silent partner in this wait, dying to learn the meaning behind the chain of events that had so many points they couldn't make sense of. Nafız was aware of this too, but as if wanting to make sure, she locked eyes with everyone before she started speaking.
"Since you are all so damn curious, I will tell you a story about why I put on this circus act."
When his master paused, Bookworm's eyes lit up, how could they not? Whenever Nafız made an intro like this, she would then tell bizarre things that were impossible for him to have heard before. Ever since the day he heard that story where a captive commander practically ruled the whole world, he got fired up every single time, and the legacy of the ancestors in his mind howled like a hungry wolf.
"In a world where only humans exist and life goes on in a completely different way, the ruler of a great country gathered the people to give a speech in one of the cities. Taking his place at the podium set up on the stage built on the floor of a grand square, paved with stones all of identical sizes, the leader began his words that shattered the absolute silence.
The weather was cold, a bit windy, and the white marks left by the intermittent snow caught the eye in every corner. Despite this, the leader's passion was hot enough to almost melt them, his voice was booming, and he had plenty to say. As he continued with the same energy he started with, towards the middle of his speech, a coughing sound rose from the crowd; it was a cough so simple that it wouldn't catch anyone's attention on a normal day, but in this square where only the leader's voice ruled, this anomaly was impossible to miss.
"Who coughed?" asked the leader.
No answer came from the crowd consisting of hundreds, maybe thousands of people; maybe out of pure shock, or maybe out of fear that he would kill the owner of the cough for interrupting his speech, no one spoke. The leader raised his hand, and the soldiers opened fire on the crowd with weapons you couldn't possibly see in this world.
In the blink of an eye, dozens of people fell to the ground wounded, the rest were trembling in terror, and the leader called out from the podium once more; who coughed. Despite what happened right in front of them, they insisted on not making a sound, and since they acted this way, the leader didn't feel the need to change his reaction either.
The soldiers once again shot dozens of people in the crowd, and many of these died just like the previous ones. The leader asked for the third time; if he didn't get an answer, it was clear what he would do. The person who knew this decided to speak up and say he coughed, saying to hell with the consequences.
The Leader, having received the answer to his question, slowly lowered his furrowed brows, a warm smile settled on his face, and he said; Please take our coughing citizen to the hospital immediately, ensure the necessary treatments are given and he gets well!"
The group, having decided to walk on the trap-laden path of the wide hollow resembling a cave, probably because they were picturing what Nafız told in their heads, couldn't process that her words had ended for a brief moment. They were hanging on her every word as if she was going to continue; as if they were going to listen to the coughing person going to the hospital, and then the Leader finishing his speech, but the blood-red-haired orc warrior was going to say something they didn't expect again.
"You got your answer, Commander-in-Chief of the Orc Empire Armies, Wind of Death. Now you tell me, why did I do this to these ten orc warriors!"