Pigtail, who learned the truth of Chief Alyon, did not know what to say and thought if the ground were split, I would get into it. Nafız, who stayed in the training area until the morning, only thought was to rest; this unnecessary fanfare did not attract any attention.

"His son's will and demeanor reminded me of one of those ancient times. There is no big deal; just leave me alone."

Although Nafız said these, Alyon knew what was happening. Blood Baptism was the second level of Nafız's lineage talent. This technique required using her blood essence to awaken a random ability in the person it was applied to.

Neither of them knew whether this was a gift that made them meet or was the beginning of their end.

The supplies department had finished digging wide and deep trenches outside the tribe. Pigtail had huge stakes made of trees from the Great Mountain hammered into the ditches. When the ditches covered with branches of trees were covered with earth, they seemed never to exist.

Alyon spoke with satisfaction when he saw the ditches being finished.

"It's better than I expected. I guess I didn't make the wrong decision about you. "

Porked with pride for his praise, Pigtail thought it was the right time to ask the chief a critical question currently on his mind.

"Chief Alyon, you said the tribe would leave these lands after the merchant arrived. For what purpose are we doing all this preparation?"

Before answering, Alyon scanned the horizon with his eyes, saying, "You never know what the winds of greed will bring to your door," with the manner of a wise old man who transferred his years of experience to his young student.

Meanwhile, Dimitri, rushing to complete his order, lived the busiest days of his trading life. He was so caught up in the work that he could not notice a pair of eyes following him in the shadows. While his apprentice, Sasha, roamed the way to the post office to order goods from other cities, neither was aware that they were living under surveillance.

In the large and flamboyant hall of the great castle in the middle of the city, a middle-aged man with a stubble beard was having fun with the beauties beside him. In the moments when the pleasure was climbing to the peaks, the gate guard suddenly shouted, and the voice spoiled all his joy.

"Sir, the messenger says he's bringing important information."

"Damn, imbeciles, didn't I tell you not to bother me?"

The guard, frightened by the words of his master, immediately continued to speak.

"Sir, he says it is about the subject you are ordering to follow!"

The man's attitude, who continued to enjoy spirits, changed entirely with the last he heard.

"Send in quickly; how long will you wait, idiot!"

The owner of the sound was none other than Godfrey, Lord of Nikonia Commercial City. Although the Orc Steppes consisted of creatures living in tribal life in a scattered way, there was one commercial city in three central regions. These cities were ruled by the city lords accepted by the Main Orc Tribe, not the orc tribe that ruled the region. Located in the arid desert region, the lord of this city was primarily known for his erratic movements and brutal personality.

"My lord sent a few more mechanical pigeons for their new orders from the merchant post office we have been tracking for a while."

"Have you recorded the contents of the messages?" Said Godfrey, who listened carefully to the reporter.

"Yes, sir, the items that made up this order were parts that were not found on the continent like other materials he bought or that required special requirements. I want to present a copy of the order."

Godfrey grabbed the rolled paper from the messenger and started reading, then gestured to go out. The Gulag, the lord's right-hand man, entered through the door as the footsteps of the messenger leaving the peace bent double.

"Find Redtail now and tell him to do what is necessary."

The Gulag bowed his head at the lord's command and turned his gaze to the girls around. Realizing his intention from the watch of his right arm, Godfrey spoke with a grin.

"Okay, you can use them for your experiments with the messenger."

"Thank you very much for your kindness."

Finished in the throne room, the Gulag whispered in the sentry's ear as he left the door.

"Take the girls inside to my private dungeon right away. I hope nothing will happen to them on the road, or I will have to use you as material for my new experiments."

Apart from ruling the city as the lord's right-hand man, the Gulag was a scientist who did crazy and wild experiments. It was imprinted in the minds of all the people living in the city that anyone who wanted to oppose the curd ended up suffering in the hands of the Gulag.

While life was flowing in Nikonia, Dimitri and his apprentice were eating at a cheap inn, waiting for their orders to reach their hands.

"When this job is over, we will no longer need to stay in such rundown places. We'll have the money to live in luxury places."

Drunk with the influence of the wine, Sasha was unaware of how loud his voice was.

'' Stupid boy, we gotta finish our work without anyone noticing. Bandit gangs have agents everywhere, so be sure to hear what they say!"

Dimitri was furious when his apprentice was babbling. His hands were trembling with excitement, even though he was conscientious not to show it out. The Minotaur would benefit if it could deliver its horns and hooves to Gold City for auction. Although he received the prize placed on the creature's head, he knew very well that he would rise to top-notch trading.

Thanks to mercenaries guarding the trade routes, goods ordered from other continents arrived without any trouble. Seeing that the appointed time was approaching, Dimitri was about to load the wagons and leave the city's gates for a four-day journey.

"Nowadays, the Orc tribes are very insecure. You can stay in the city for a while if you want!"

It was the first time Dimitri had heard these words spoken by the duty officer.

"Thank you! We will try to be careful."

Responding politely and leaving the door, the merchant whispered in the ear of the blond-haired young man next to him.

"Sasha, activate all surveillance devices. Use magic stones to initiate image transmission to the nearest mercenary headquarters. Prepare the system as if it will enter defense mode at any moment."

Dimitri, who activated a maximum of two surveillance devices at regular times, took all measures to prevent any incident to him on the way to the tribe.

Despite this, some darkness on a distant hill watched him move from Nikonia to the tribe. In these blackouts, a tall person attracted much more attention than others. The man, with his red beard reaching his belly, drooled and spoke.

"Our prey has been trapped! Keep your distance! "Nobody will make a move until they arrive!"

In the tribe, the merchant's destination, there have recently been strange incidents that only a few people know of. Nafız, who carried out the blood baptism, has been lying in her tent unconsciously ever since.

On the other hand, Sangre, who woke up in his tent two days after the horrible incident, felt like an entirely different entity. As he set off to the training area without being surprised, he discovered that many things had changed about himself.

He could easily see farther distances than he had ever seen before and could hear even the slightest whispers in the tribe, up to the sound of the worm crawling on the ground. Feeling the shape the wind took as it slid over his skin made him shiver.

Arriving at the field of instruction, Sangre called Nafız to ask what happened to him. After waiting for a while, he rushed to the fighters when the troop gave a water break. Lying on the ground to rest, the Orcs hurried to their feet when they saw the person approaching them.

"Welcome, second chief!"

Surprised by what he heard, Sangre asked excitedly.

"Where's Chief Nafız? I have some things to discuss with her?"

"Nobody saw her after she made you an assistant chief three days ago, sir."

Although the Orcs had been trained for a short time, they have come a long way in the discipline. In this regard, Nafız's extraordinary practices contributed a lot to their adaptation to new conditions.

"The chief certainly knows; I have to go and ask him!"

As Sangre finished his speech, a hand hit his shoulder violently.

"Remember your questions. You ask yourself when you see your master."

Seeing the owner of the hand, the Orcs shout in unison.

"Chief Alyon!"

"That's enough idleness! Everybody takes a weapon, and you will work with targets! "

After the command of their chief, all the Orcs took their weapons and returned to the practice.

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Nobody is superior. No one is inferior. But nobody is equal either. People are just unique, incomparable.

OSHO