Chapter 163: Mak'Gora

Stunned and terrified. The cavernous space that housed the orc encampment fell silent. Even the crackling fires seemed to sputter in response to the name that echoed through the air.

"Mak'Gora."

Aron, standing amidst the throngs of awestruck and terrified orcs, held the gaze of the massive orc chieftain. The chief, a hulking beast adorned with crude bone armor and a wickedly barbed axe strapped to his back, stared at Aron in disbelief. His yellow eyes, usually gleaming with a feral intelligence, were now wide with a mix of confusion and dawning realization.

The meaning of "Mak'Gora" wasn't lost on him. It was a primal challenge, a duel to the death between warriors, a tradition steeped in orcish honor and brutality. The thing was, however, only orcs knew about it. What surprised the orcs even more than the words themselves was the language they were spoken in. 

Orcish.

Aron spoke in their native tongue, a language unknown to humans and rarely heard outside of orcish clans.

As the weight of Aron's words sank in, one of the orcs on the left side of the chieftain let out a thunderous roar, a mix of anger and respect. "Ya speak our tongue, humie! 'Ow's this possible?"

Aron didn't respond, a faint smile playing on his lips as he maintained eye contact with the chief. The other orcs, roused from their shock, began to mutter amongst themselves.

"Soft-skins talk like us?" one orc muttered, disbelief coloring his voice.

Another piped up, pointing a gnarled finger at Aron. "Da humie is an orc?"

A nearby orc, older and wiser by the looks of the countless wrinkles etched on his face, stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Nah!... too ugly to be an orc," he scoffed, earning a chorus of guffaws from his comrades. "An'... not green."

"..." Aron's eyebrow twitched for a moment. He slowly shifted his gaze from the chieftain to the orc who had spoken, making a mental note to remember his face.

"!!!" The orc flinched, feeling like a small prey facing a predator. "I... I feel cold," he stammered.

At that moment, the orc who had spoken first stepped forward. He was slightly larger than the rest, with light green skin and two bright yellow eyes. Bald and missing a tusk.

"Ya dare challenge the chief!" he bellowed. "Humie is no green blood," he stopped a few feet away from Aron, he raised his hand slamming his chest three times the same way Aron did moments ago, "Must fight me first."

Aron's smile remained fixed, his crimson eyes gleaming with a hint of amusement as he regarded the orc who had stepped forward. Despite the orc's imposing size and aggressive demeanor, Aron exuded an air of calm confidence. "I did not come here to fight you, orc. I seek the chieftain."

The orc, his eyes flashing with anger, took a menacing step forward. "Ya seek death, humie! No one challenges our chief and lives to tell the tale!"

"Very well then," Aron replied with terrifying calmness. He assumed a fighting stance, some orcs gawking at him while others cheered for their challenger to kick his ass.

The only ones who observed the scene in silence were the female soldiers. They had no idea who this pale human was, but they didn't care about his identity if he could save them. The others were the chieftain and the female orc sitting beside him. Their eyes never left Aron.

Noticing that Aron was unarmed, the orc warrior dropped his massive two-handed hammer and ripped off the animal fur draped around his shoulders, baring his chest like Aron. 'Oh!... An honorable warrior' Aron silently admired this orc.

The orc assumed a fighting stance, locking his bright yellow eyes with Aron's crimson ones. For a tense moment, the two warriors stared each other down, neither daring to make a move. The roaring and cheering died down, all anticipation focused on the imminent Mak'Gora.

Ironically, the fight began with a big, dumb orc who decided it was a good time to jam his massive finger into his nose, seemingly searching for a lost treasure. The search culminated in a resounding sneeze that echoed through the cavern.

"ATCHOO!"

"!!!" The unexpected sound startled the orc warrior, causing him to break his focus and charge at Aron with a guttural roar.

"UGHAAA!" he bellowed, closing the distance with surprising agility for such a large creature.

Aron, however, stood like a mountain, unfazed as the orc's massive fist hurtled toward his face. And like a mountain.

THUD!

The punch did nothing to him as it collided with his face. 

"WHAT!" The orc exclaimed seeing that his punch had no effect on the humie; he didn't even budge an inch. The orc took a step back and eyed the humie with newfound wariness.

"My turn," Aron said, and in a blink of an eye, he was standing a hair's length from the orc.

The orc couldn't even react as Aron flicked the tip of his finger against the orc's forehead. The force of the blow sent the orc hurtling backward, crashing into the large tent behind him and taking a few unfortunate orcs along for the ride.

"..." 

Silent fell as the orcish crowd froze, unable to believe what just happened, their eyes wide as they stared at the crumbled tent. The orc warrior, who had moments ago been full of bluster and aggression, now lay in a heap, dazed and motionless.

"ROAR!!!!" Then they went wild, their voices echoing through the cavern, a mixture of awe and excitement. They had never witnessed such a display of power and skill, and the realization that this humie possessed abilities beyond their comprehension sent shivers down their spines.

"Da humie is strong!" bellowed one orc, his voice thick with newfound respect. He thrust his fist into the air, a spontaneous gesture that was quickly mimicked by others.

"Aye! That humie is half green for sure," another orc chimed in, his voice tinged with grudging admiration. A murmur of agreement rippled through the crowd.

"Half green, maybe," a gruff voice countered, "but still ugly!"

"Yeah…Yeah!" A wave of agreement washed over the orcs, but they failed to notice a pair of crimson eyes, watching them, noting their green ugly faces.

"NAHAHAHA!" Suddenly, a loud laughter filled the whole place, cutting through the cheers and murmurs of the orcish crowd. All eyes turned to the source of the laughter.

It was the chieftain who rose from his seat saying, "A worthy display, human! You have indeed earned the right to face me in Mak'Gora."

"Oh!..." Aron raised his eyebrows, surprised, by two things, first was that the chieftain spoke in the common human tongue with such fluency. Second, the strange flow of mana he detected within the orc.

'Interesting,' Aron thought, his dragon eyes observing the chieftain's mana core for the first time. Unlike the typical flow that radiated from the chest, this orc's mana seemed to originate from his stomach, swirling clockwise around his entire body. It was as if the orc himself was the core.

The chieftain stepped forward, his massive frame towering over Aron. "You have proven yourself worthy, human. Now, let us settle this in the old way, the way of Mak'Gora."

He tossed aside his axe and ripped off his bone armor, revealing a torso that rivaled Aron's in terms of battle scars. He pounded his fist against his chest three times. "My name is Morgash, chief of the Frostfang clan. And you, human, what do they call you?"

Aron met Morgash's gaze with unwavering determination. "I am Aron, Lord Commander of the Frostguard and Grandmaster of the Watchers."

The cavern fell silent once more, the weight of Aron's title hanging heavy in the air. The orcs exchanged glances, their eyes widening further as they realized the significance of Aron's position.

The female soldiers, however, were the most surprised. They just realized that the lord commander himself came to rescue them. They were just ordinary soldiers, and being women, no one took them seriously, even the captains and the commanders were against them, but here he was, the lord commander himself, risking his life to save them.

Surprisingly, another individual was equally surprised by Aron's titles; it was the orcish woman sitting calmly at the table observing in silence.

Morgash's eyes narrowed his expression a mixture of surprise and respect. "You mean the big wall and the silver-haired warriors?"

"Mm.." Aron simply nodded, confirming his words.

"So you're a chief too," Morgash whispered in a low voice before taking a fighting stance. Aron did the same. And for a few seconds, the two just stared at each other.

Fortunately, no stupid orc signaled the fight in the most disrespectful way. This time Aron was the one who attacked first; he dashed with extraordinary speed at the chieftain.

Seeing that the orc didn't move, Aron flashed a smile, understanding that the orc was underestimating him by allowing him to land the first blow. Aron, on the other hand, didn't care about this and took this opportunity to land a powerful punch, to Morgash's jaw.

THUD!

The orc stumbled backward, his eyes widening in surprise as he tasted the blood in his mouth while also feeling that some of his teeth had been knocked out. 

"Heheh," Aron chuckled.

"Grr" Morgash let out a low growl when he saw the sly smirk on Aron's face; without warning, he dashed with a speed that didn't match his size, landing a blow on the same spot on Aron's jaw.

Aron's head snapped back, and he staggered under the force of the blow. A trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth, but his crimson eyes remained fixed on Morgash, unwavering.

The orcs watched in stunned silence, their eyes darting between the two combatants. They had never seen anyone take a hit from their chief and remain standing, let alone retaliate with such force. The two warriors locked eyes for a beat, then simultaneously spat out the dislodged teeth. 

And then…

"BWAAAHHHH!" Aron and Morgash erupted into a sudden, mad laughter that echoed through the cavern. Their eyes sparkled with a mix of respect and newfound kinship. It was as if, in that moment, they had transcended their differences and found a common ground through the test of their strength.

The orcs surrounding them fell silent, their initial confusion turning to awe as they realized the significance of what was unfolding. This was not just a battle between two warriors, but a display of mutual respect and understanding.

"Ya!...Da humie is of Orc Blood"