Reawakening of the Nameless Dragon

Chapter 164: The Will Of The Mak’Gora



BOOM!

"OH! You bloody GIT! That stings!" roared a hulking green-skinned orc, clutching his face. "You broke me nose!"

"Hehehe…" Chuckling with a smirk on his face, a pale man stood opposite, blood trickling down from his forehead, though not his own, but the orc's.

"Grrr" the orc growled in irritation seeing that smirk on the man's face, his giant green hand clamping around the pale man's head with surprising swiftness.

The pale man's eyes widened in surprise. He'd been caught off guard. With a brutal motion, the orc flung his head backward. The pale man knew what was coming, but exhaustion left him too slow to react. Even if he had the energy, he wouldn't have dodged.

BOOM! CRACK!

"AGHH!!!...You stupid ugly green shit" the pale man howled in pain, clutching his broken nose as he glared at the orc with his crimson eyes.

The orc chuckled, his yellow eyes gleaming with amusement. "We orcs live by a code: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, and…" he paused, struggling to recall the last part. "Well, a nose for a nose!" he waved dismissively, readying himself for the other man's counterattack.

Crunch!

Pulling his nose back into place with a gruesome crunch, the pale man let out a deep breath. "Sigh…Orcs" he muttered, wiping the blood from his face with the back of his hand. His crimson eyes locked onto the orc's yellow ones, a fire burning within them that hadn't been there in a long time.

"Now, where were we?" Aron asked, his voice dripping with a mixture of pain and anticipation. Without waiting for a response, he surged forward, his body a blur of motion.

"!!!" Morgash had barely time to react. Well, in fact, he too didn't dodge all of Aron's attacks and took them like a real man…I mean a real Orc, not some humie scum.

BOOM!

"Grugh!" Morgash stumbled back as Aron's powerful fist slammed into his jaw.

"HEY! Stop breaking me TEETH!" Morgash growled, spitting out a broken fang. He wiped the blood from his mouth, his yellow eyes narrowing in rage and amusement.

"Oh stop acting like a wimp," Aron retorted, his smirk never wavering despite the pain that lanced through his body with every breath. "They will grow back pretty fast."

"Yeah, you're right," Morgash growled, a hint of amusement flickering across his green face. "Besides, I need more teeth to buy that awesome axe."

"See? I did you a favor," Aron chuckled, slowly strengthening his fighting stance. "Now, shall we continue?"

"BWAHHHH!" Morgash laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that echoed across the place. "A favor, eh? Then let me return it!" With a roar, he lunged at Aron, his fists swinging with brutal force.

BOOM! BOOM!

For two long hours, the two warriors exchanged blows, each hit echoing across the battlefield. The onlooking orcs roared their approval, their cheers and shouts creating a cacophony of excitement. The female soldiers, chained at a distance, rooted silently for Aron, their hearts skipping a beat with every heavy punch he landed on Morgash, and sinking with every drop of his blood that hit the ground.

There were no fancy moves, no powerful magic, no dodging of attacks, or attempts at landing cheap hits. It was a pure test of physical strength and endurance, each warrior pushing the other to their absolute limits.

Aron's knuckles were raw and bleeding, but he didn't falter. Every time he thought he might collapse, he saw Morgash's determined eyes and found the strength to continue. Morgash, for his part, was equally battered, his green skin bruised and bleeding, yet he stood firm, each hit fueling his relentless spirit.

Aron was genuinely surprised by Morgash's power, at least the only thing he saw and experienced, his physical strength. The orc actually managed to hurt Aron's tough skin. Thyra in her torture…Ahem, I mean training, had ensured he could withstand immense pain, but Morgash's strength was on another level entirely. Aron had only felt blows like these from her.

To give both warriors some credit, they were using just their strength and no magic. This meant their defenses were practically nonexistent. Aron was confident that he could take blows like these in his normal state and wouldn't feel a thing. As for Morgash, from the massive amount of mana that Aron saw inside him, he was sure that the orc was the same.

"You're tough, human chief" Morgash grunted, wiping sweat and blood from his brow. "I'll give you that."

Aron, panting heavily, managed a grin. "And you're a stubborn bastard, orc," he replied, his voice rough but steady.

"..."

"BWAHHHH!" The two burst into mad laughter, one of many they had during this unique Mak'Gora. With a mutual nod of respect, they launched themselves at each other once more, fists flying. The ground beneath them seemed to shake with the intensity of their clash.

"WAAAGH!!!" The orcs surrounding them, their voices hoarse from cheering, continued to roar their approval, their eyes gleaming with a mixture of excitement and awe.

The female soldiers, their faces illuminated by the flickering firelight, watched with bated breath, their initial fear giving way to a sense of hope. They knew that Aron was fighting not just for his life but for theirs as well.

Only the Orc female sat in silence not showing much of a reaction; she only kept observing the duel with hawk eyes, focusing more on the interesting Pale man.

As the battle raged on, the air grew heavy with the scent of blood and sweat. Aron and Morgash, their bodies bruised and battered, showed no signs of slowing down. Their punches became more ferocious, their movements more desperate. It was as if they were both fueled by an unyielding determination to emerge victorious.

The orc chieftain, his eyes narrowed in concentration, landed a particularly powerful blow to Aron's midsection, causing the pale man to stumble backward. Morgash seized the opportunity and pressed his advantage, his fists raining down like hammers.

Aron, his breath coming in sharp gasps, dug deep within himself and found a reserve of strength. With a roar, he countered Morgash's onslaught, their fists colliding in a fury of bone and muscle. The impact sent shockwaves through the ground, causing the orcs to cheer even louder.

"YAAA! PUNY HUMIE GIT! FIGHT BACK! SHOW DA BOSS YOUR GUTS!" bellowed one orc, voice gravelly with glee. "MAKE HIM SQUIRM FOR US!"

"YEEEE... CRUNCH HIM GOOD!" roared another, teeth bared in a fearsome grin.

"CRUNCH HIS BALLS!"

"..."

"Oh…Bloody me!" This orc froze, watching his kin eyeing him like prey. He was a little bit worried about his own balls. "DON'T BE THINKIN' FUNNY!" he shouted, his voice tinged with worry.

"GET 'IM! BOYZ" Roared a bigger orc, pointing a massive finger.

"NOOO!" he shrieked as five orcs descended on him in a flurry of tusks and clubs.

"BALLS ARE OFF LIMITS, YA GIT-BRAINS!" The orc roared in defiance, even as his screams were lost in the clamor of the brawl. But no one cared; their eyes went to the fight.

Morgash, his face a mask of determination, grunted as he absorbed Aron's blows. The orc's resilience was remarkable, his endurance seemingly limitless. He pushed back against Aron, their fists blurring as they exchanged a rapid series of strikes.

Aron, his body screaming in pain, found himself pushed to his limits. He could feel his energy waning, his muscles screaming for relief. Yet, he refused to yield.

'It's been ages since I've had this much fun,' he thought with a touch of madness, his lips curled in a wide, crazy grin.

Summoning all of his remaining strength, he seized Morgash's big head, gripping tightly to his ears. Instead of pulling the orc to him, Aron used the orc's momentum and pulled himself to the orc, his forehead colliding with Morgash's in a resounding clash.

BOOM!

The impact sent both warriors reeling backward, their eyes widening in surprise. Aron's forehead was bleeding from the collision, but he paid it no mind as he swiftly drew his head back for another strike.

"Bring it on, humie," Morgash challenged, leaning forward to meet Aron's headbutt with his own.

BOOM!

The sound of their heads colliding echoed through the cavern, the impact sending them both reeling. Aron's forehead was bleeding profusely now, and so was Morgash's, yet neither warrior relented, going for a second, third, fourth…until they lost count.

BOOM! BOOM!

The orcs fell silent, their eyes darting between the two warriors. The female soldiers held their breath, their hearts pounding in their chests. It seemed that the battle had reached a stalemate, both warriors refusing to yield.

Morgash, his eyes flashing with a mix of anger and respect, grunted. "You are a stubborn one, Aron, Lord Commander. But this fight must end."

Aron, his breath coming in sharp gasps, returned the orc's intense gaze. "Then let it end, Morgash, chief of the Frostfang clan. But know that I will not yield."

The female orc, her eyes narrowed in concentration, rose from her seat. She stepped closer to the battle, her gaze fixed on Aron. Her expression was unreadable, but her eyes held a hint of curiosity and respect.

The two warriors, their heads drawn back, prepared to conclude the honorable Mak'Gora with a final, decisive headbutt.

BOOM!

The cavern shook with the force of their final clash, the sound of their skulls meeting reverberating through the air. They staggered backward, creating some distance between them.

Their foreheads were bleeding heavily, the blood dripping down their faces, mixing with the sweat and grime of battle. Yet neither fell. They stood tall and proud, locking eyes and wearing wide grins of satisfaction.

Morgash, his chest heaving, struggled to speak. "It has been an honor to face you in the sacred Mak'Gora, Aron, Lord Commander."

Aron, his breath coming in ragged gasps, nodded in agreement. "The honor is mine, Morgash, chief of the Frostfang clan."

"HAHAHA!" Morgash erupted in laughter before collapsing onto his back, signaling his defeat.

"WAAAGH!!!" The orc crowd went wild, their voices thunderous with approval. The ground beneath them seemed to tremble with the intensity of their celebration, shaking loose bits of debris from the cavern walls.

"WAAAGH! HUMIE GIT WON!" bellowed an orc

"NAAH…HE'S GREEN BLOOD, BUT STILL AN UGLY GIT" shouted another.

"HUMIE!...HUMIE!....HUMIE!.....UGLY HUMIE!."

Aron, covered in blood and sweat, with not a bone left unbroken, slowly dragged himself toward Morgash, who lay on his back, his massive chest rising and falling with each labored breath. The orc chieftain had put up a formidable fight, and Aron felt a surge of respect for his opponent.

"You fought well, Morgash," Aron said, his voice hoarse and filled with admiration. "I have never faced an opponent as resilient and powerful as you."

Morgash, his yellow eyes glinting with a mix of pride and amusement, chuckled. "And I thought humans were weak,"

"Heheh," Aron replied with a light chuckle, his wide smile unwavering. "Well, to be fair, I'm not exactly human."

Morgash raised an eyebrow at Aron's revelation, but before he could inquire further, Aron offered him a hand, helping the massive orc back to his feet.

The female soldiers breathed a collective sigh of relief, glad that their Lord Commander had emerged victorious. However, their relief was short-lived as they recalled that he had just defeated a single orc, and there were hundreds if not thousands, more. But they were unaware of a crucial detail.

The nature of the sacred Mak'Gora.

The female orc, who had been observing the battle with keen interest, stepped forward. Her gaze once filled with respect, now held a spark of curiosity. As she approached, the cheers and roars of the crowd faded as if some unseen force had snuffed out the sounds.

She stood before Aron, her unique green eyes, unlike the yellow eyes of her kin, fixed upon him. Then, with purpose, she dropped to one knee. Immediately, every orc present followed suit, including Morgash.

"By the Will of the Mak'Gora," she intoned, her voice deep and respectful, "We, the Frostfang, acknowledge Aron as our new chieftain."

yO!

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