Capítulo 172: Krugan's dilemma
Frustrated, in search of who it was, attacked by his fake kin. The Khül roared, swinging his mighty weapon left and right. What looked like air blades spewed out of his ax, decapitating, cleaving the life out of the orc horde from a distance.
"Fakes! Stay your hands or die by mine!" The Khül ordered, stopping his attacks for but a moment to give them pause for choice.
At least a thousand bodies and more liters of blood covered the sand. It looked like the beginning of a genocide.
Blinded by the now destroyed suicidal horn's power, thousands of orcs heeded none of his warnings and flooded the arena.
Since most of them were spectators, they wore casual clothes. Deprived of weapons, they could only attack with their fists.
But they never reached their target in time to even have the chance to land a hit.
PENSAMENTOS DOS CRIADORES 
YoanRoturier
YoanRoturier "On one hand, the Khül's statement about orcs being fakes was true. On the other, however, it was wrong. They could be called fakes since they were just copies and originate from the Tower, thus the gods. But did it mean they did not learn, laugh, cry, make mistakes like other living beings? No. What qualifies as a fake compared to the real? The definition can be blurred when the fake itself becomes its own reality. Meh, such thoughts were beyond that thick head's reach, anyway."
Extract from, "Yggdrasil Chronicles, The Woodcutter of Iris," by Roan the Merchant.
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