The Blood God was left in a great dilemma. If he wished, he could save his life with a single command, but in return, everything he had labored for would be destroyed. He didn't care about the lands they had won. His friend Alyon, along with his students Sangre and Kitapkurdu, and the orcs whose development they had ensured by trembling over them, would never see the sunrise again.
Nafız didn't think for long. Shoving the hand on his shoulder hard, he stood up and took a large step forward. Once, he had experienced the feeling of having to continue living after losing the people he loved. In this life, he would not give place to "ifs" and regrets. Nafız continued walking confidently. He was going to surrender to the Fifth Demon by doing the only thing he could do.
Making this decision caused Resbaladizo's face to be covered by a misshapen smile. The moment he returned to the Hell Realm with this orc in hand, he could record the progress he had been waiting for for many years.
While walking toward the white-skinned man, Nafız had to pass by Sangre, who was trapped inside a cage made of flames. No matter how painful this was, it was the shortest way to end the torment his student was suffering.
"Master, stop!"
The Blood Warrior spoke, disregarding the pressure that caused agony as if it would split his body in two. Blood was leaking in a thin line from the corner of his mouth. As if performing Vampiric Transformation twice in the same day wasn't enough, he was being subjected to severe torture with every breath.
This action of his did not please the Fifth Demon at all. He increased the energy he kept under control to avoid killing him by one more degree. Nafız immediately quickened his steps; he did not want someone he valued to suffer unnecessarily. He sped up without falling for the burdens formed on his body, but unfortunately, just as he was passing by the cage of fire, the same voice would shout again in helplessness.
"Master, stop!"
Sangre went mad. Disregarding everything, he grabbed the bars of glowing fire with both hands and tried to tear them apart by force. The event was taking place three steps in front of Nafız; when he turned his face in that direction, the eyes of the two orcs locked onto each other unconsciously.
At that moment, time seemed to stop. A scene from the female orc's memories appeared before his eyes. The only thing remaining in his mind from this memory were the words spoken by the orc who came to take him: "Don't be afraid, it's over!"
These words were like a light suddenly appearing in the darkness, like an oasis appearing before someone thirsty in the desert. Afterwards, the same person had grabbed him by the arms and carried him to a safe place. Although he had almost forgotten, this orc was the person who would later take the name Sangre. He was the son of the Quartermaster in Ayıboğan's tribe.
Suddenly the scene was changing. The place was still the same, they were in the tribe chief's tent, but now that weak female orc was gone, and Nafız, who called himself The Blood God, had taken her place. Father and son were waiting for their fate with bowed heads; this time, it was he who took them from the hands of death.
It came to the day he last used the name Küçükdomuzcuk. He looked as if he would not drop the huge rock he held above his head no matter what. He carried out the orders without caring about the insults directed at him or the laughter of his friends.
This was the reason that made him the second Blood Warrior in history. Instead of the deep compassion inside the first one, this time The Blood God wanted someone who did what they were told. Picking up his first bow and the war cry he let out when he shattered the enemies' shield seemed to be in Nafız's ears.
How many events they had experienced together in these few short years. The scenes passing before his eyes like a film strip seemed unending. The first defeat he suffered while his transformation continued and the Holy Lands where the unending hostility began afterwards. The female orc, looking with blank eyes at his student writhing between death and life, felt as if he were there.
He suddenly remembered him coming out of the reward dungeon. He had never doubted him; he had waited patiently for him to come out of the place he entered alone. Now he was fighting a mage who appeared before him with his staff in hand: how filled with pride he was while watching the Blood Warrior's first great victory.
The scene was changing once more. They were in the stone courtyard of the villa where the gladiators stayed. Nafız remembered Sangre's reaction upon learning what had happened; under the fearful gazes of the poor gladiators listening to him, he was talking about painting the whole city in blood.
One couldn't even joke around him. His loyalty was so great that there were moments he burned with the desire to kill even his Chief's only grandson. This bond had not broken even though there were days of distance between them; on the contrary, the Blood Warrior had become even more loyal to the female orc he saw as his master with each passing day.
"Are you thinking of turning back from your decision, orc warrior?"
Nafız woke from the dream world he had dived into with Resbaladizo's voice. Remembering these took perhaps a few breaths, but even this caused the white-skinned man to panic.
"Forgive me, Sangre!"
These should have been the last words they spoke. He had to end the torment he was suffering. The smell coming from his hands burned by the bars made of hot fire had already reached the noses of everyone in the immediate vicinity.
He looked into the eyes of The Blood Warrior. This was how he said goodbye to the orc begging him with his eyes from a distance of three steps. While throwing his fate into an unknown, there wasn't the slightest burden in his heart; this time he could sacrifice himself in place of his loved ones.
Turning his face toward the Fifth Demon, he took his first step. He had no intention of stopping, had something not splashed onto his face at the same time. Nafız felt compelled to look at the liquid on his face with his hand. Perhaps what was on his fingers right now was the thing he would be least surprised to see.
It was the blood he had bathed in with him many times throughout his new life. Only the feeling it created on his skin was very different; this time it seemed to burn where it touched. He remained rooted to the spot for two breaths due to the first possibility that came to his mind. Inside, he was begging madly for this not to be happening. He slowly turned his head toward The Blood Warrior he had just said goodbye to. A sight he would not forget for the rest of his life awaited him.
When he took that first step, Sangre also closed his eyes. He couldn't watch his master being taken away by someone in front of him. Although he wanted to scream madly, to tell him to run, he didn't have the strength, nor did he have the face for it. He himself was the biggest reason for him walking toward the unknowns.
After that day his fate changed, Sangre had set a single goal for himself. Fighting shoulder to shoulder with the orc who was his master had become his greatest desire. He had to take his place beside him with his own power and might; he had to prove that he deserved the gift given to him to the end.
While these were his reasons for living, his mind was being tossed in storms of thought after the situation he fell into. No matter how much he thought, he couldn't find an excuse for the person he wanted to fight alongside surrendering to the enemy because of him.
With the first step his master took, he made his decision. To solve the problem created by his existence, he focused his remaining strength on the throwing knife lying on the ground. A breath later, the weapon for which he had slaughtered hundreds of goblins alone to possess tore through his own throat.
This was the reason for the blood splashing on Nafız's face. It belonged to his student, who couldn't stomach the situation he fell into and took his own life. On one side was the knife, on the other was Sangre. Both lay with their necks bent on the blood-soaked soil. Nafız felt his knees give way; without understanding what was happening, he too collapsed to the ground. He closed his eyes tightly; this shouldn't be real, he thought, this time it had to be different.
"No! No!"
He was shaking his head left and right with words of denial on his tongue. He still hadn't opened his eyes out of fear; his goal was to convince himself that what he just witnessed was not real.
"Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!"
"Stupid orc, what was your hurry? I was going to kill all of you anyway after taking that ugly thing!"