章 4: Revenge is a Dish Best Served Cold

"How's your hand?" said the Chief, looking at the figure entering through the door. The black shadow waited quietly for a while before answering. He was looking down to avoid showing his face.

"Answer your grandfather's question!"

Startled by his father's roar, Thick Fang answered by lifting his head.

"It will be restored within four or five days."

Halfway through the ritual, Thick Fang came out of the tent and ran to the healer. Orc healers in the tribe were just people who performed some simple practices, contrary to the illusion in their names.

Placing removed limbs, cauterizing wounds, cutting limbs that could not heal, and simply fixing fractures were the most effective treatment methods they could do. Nobody except the Chief's lineage and warriors could benefit from these privileged services. Having reached adulthood within a week, the Orcs recovered and multiplied quickly; there was no need to ask for more.

Ayıboğan, who received the news, started caressing his beard. Kaplan Heart had witnessed his father making this gesture countless times while thinking about important issues, and he immediately called out in a cringing tone.

"My chief, please enlighten us with your glory."

The Ayıboğan thought for a while before turning to his grandson and speaking. Thick Fang finally turned its head at the height of tension and looked at its grandfather.

"Are you aware of the shame you gave us?"

"Forgive me, grandpa."

As the words poured from his lips, Thick Fang bowed his Head again.

"Shut your mouth!"

The Ayıboğan roared, looking at his fearful grandson.

You have weakened my lineage in front of the three division heads! The strongest of the orc's rules. How can you not know this law?"

The veins on the edges of Ayıboğan's face became more pronounced as he spoke. Tiger Heart, realizing that his father was getting out of control, interrupted and made a suggestion.

"As soon as you recover, you will form a hunting team and go to the Great Mountain. Take a personal guard with you. The rest must be members of the regular hunting group. I'll give you one chance to kill the two who go to the supplies department. "

Ayıboğan, who was relieved by how his son handled the problem, spoke in a satisfied tone. "You will take them to the Black Cave. They will have themselves killed there."

Although the bear was ruling the strangling Orcs with an iron fist, he had to appear publicly honest. If he carried out a sudden execution after the events, no one would have the courage to blame them openly, but they could hold grudges from within. With this method, he would not cross the bottom line, but he could send the message that he would not forgive the slightest mistake made against his lineage.

The tribe continued its routine life as the storms broke out inside the tent. The Orc tribe comprised three social classes: warriors, hunters, and supplies division.

The warriors' task was to defend the tribe against the attacks of wild animals and other races. They settled on the upper part of the slope where the tribe was located and lived the most comfortable life after the Chief's family.

Most warriors would have their own tent. It was rare for two warriors to share the same tent, except for those who were married. It was impossible for anyone looking at the plight of the warriors stationed around the Chief's tent to understand that their primary job was to protect the Chief and his family. The warriors who served in eternal loyalty had to do whatever the Chief said, who provided this comfortable life for them.

The hunters were the people who attracted the most attention of Nafız. The group, who lived in the middle of the hill, had nothing to deserve the title of hunter other than meeting the meat needs of the tribe.

They attacked wild animals with spears made from carved tree trunks and primitive bow-like objects and hunted, relying on their numerical superiority. When the hunting team returned, it was natural that at least half of its members would be missing.

The weapons stood idly by the warriors, and the hunters considered it an honor to die while hunting with inadequate equipment.

The supplies section was at the foot of the slope. Now, the Orcs' new arrivals were told about their duties, and they were sent to their own crew's tents. Predictably, the supplies section was the base of the pyramid of importance.

There were only four medium-sized tents in the supplies section, which comprised four crews of hunters, foresters, cookers, and shit cleaners. The teams slept together in tents, and when there was no space left, the new members had to sleep outside.

As the department head moved to his tent, he ordered his deputy to bring the weak female orc and the sizeable male orc to the ceremony today.

"Today disturbed the chief and his lineage."

Pigtail was sitting cross-legged in his tent as he spoke to the two standing in front of him.

"We didn't do anything. I swear it's not our fault!"

Nafız, who could not overcome her fear, spoke to the department chief with imploring eyes.

"From now on, you will only do what is given to you. Without attracting attention, you will get used to living."

Pigtail studied the two fears once more, then his voice softened. While the female orc's reaction to what happened was understandable, the male orc seemed to care about nothing. This situation troubled Pigtail and hardened the tone of his voice, and he spoke once more.

"Shaking Head, what will you say about this situation?"

Orcs are not very good at intelligence, but the big-bodied orc must have a word to say after their experience.

"I'm hungry."

The answer made the icy winds blow inside the tent. Pigtail, which was under intense stress throughout the day, jumped out and attacked the Shaking Head.

"Wait, sir! He won't do it willingly!"

Nafız understood what was going to happen and fell into the department's head's legs. The department chief, stunned by the reaction of Nafız, was first surprised when he looked at Shaking Head again, then he laughed. Despite two hands reaching his throat, he was showing no reaction.

"I guess, unlike his physical features, his intelligence is not very developed, huh?"

While laughing, the department chief made a sign to exit with his hand. Nafız grabbed Shaking Head by his arm and walked towards the tent where they would spend the night. She tried to open the leather door and enter, but flew out with a kick in her stomach.

"Newcomers will sleep outside!"

The owner of the voice was the same person who had just been kicked in the stomach.

"I guess I should let go of trying to get into that place first."

With the second kick on the same day, Nafız's mind worked faster. She was fragile physically, only had intelligence and the experiences she carried into this world from her previous life.

"Are you still hungry?"

When she turned to Shaky Head and asked, she already knew the answer.

"Yes, I'm starving."

When the answer she expected came, Nafız started her plan.

"I'll find food for you, but you will fulfill a request."

"Alright!"

Taking what she wanted, Nafız moved toward the caterers. Cook was the name given to the unit that provided the nutritional needs of the entire tribe.

Their task was to divide the most delicious and nutritious parts of the meat into the chef's lineage, distributing the remaining pieces directly to their place in the orcs' value pyramid.

The chef attached great importance to this place in the supplies section. The penalty for stealing meat and material from animals was death. While beef was the sole source of food, claws, horns, teeth, and furs were essential for trade. They could buy the small number of weapons used by their warriors through these items' marketing.

When the weather was dark and everyone retreated to their tents, two Orcs stood in front of the dining area. The inference that Nafız made about the incident she witnessed today was that Orcs could not eat the bones of their animals.

If they could reach the animals used today, the small amount of meat remaining on the bones could eat itself. After a quick search, a small hill of bone appeared in front of them. Shaky Head started trembling with excitement.

"From now on, I will do whatever you say. I will not quit as long as I fill my stomach!"

He lifted Nafız into the air and started shaking. Shaky Head looked like a little boy playing with his baby. While waiting for Nafız's internal organs to return to their places, half of the hill was destroyed by Shaky Head. Realizing that she would starve if she waited a little longer, Nafız extended her hand to the nearest bone and gnawed.

She was thinking, "Does anyone have the chance to eat meat as much as I do in my supplies department?" She used her intelligence to turn her weakness into an advantage. When the cooking session was over, they came back to the shit cleaner's tent.

"Throw out the orc lying in the tent's entrance!"

While looking at the tent surrounded by rookie Orcs, Nafız called out in an imperative tone. When Shaky Head comes to the tent entrance, the orc lying in the door kicked "the newcomers will sleep outside!" said.

Soon after he felt he was kicking a rock, the poor orc flipped through the air. When the Shaky Head grabbed the kick's owner by the ankle and threw them out, the tent contents could not believe their eyes.

"Who are you? How dare you! "

One orc inside strode toward the door. He appeared in front of Shaky Head, stepping on the lying Orcs.

"I am Shovel Bone, the leader of the shit cleaners. How dare you cause trouble in my tent? "

Shaky Head asked Nafız, who was behind him after examining the orc for a while.

"What should I do with it?"

Shovel Bone, who was humiliated in front of his tent, was attacked with a war cry. There were no weapons in the supplies section. Shovel Bone hit Shaky Bone in the Head, not knowing that pounding his fists would be the biggest mistake of his life.

The Orcs in the tent could not understand what was happening, but Nafız was familiar with the scene in front of today's events. This time, things went a little different from what she saw last time. While the Shaky Head did not move, the fist's owner collapsed on his knees and belittled in pain.

Such quarrels were normal in the tribe; in the Orc traditions, mighty rule, the rest obey.

When the atmosphere calmed down, Nafız went to the part of the tent reserved for the leader and immediately wanted to lie down and sleep. Her thin body could not handle that much action. Before falling asleep, there were some lessons from the strenuous day.

"I have to be strong or be with the strong."