Chapter 25: The Orc Stronghold

  The journey back to the orc stronghold was filled with laughter and teasing, the group in high spirits after Marcus’s victory. His new Iron-ranked adventurer badge felt like it weighed heavily in his pocket, a symbol of his victory and the challenges ahead.

  As they neared the stronghold, the towering gates of the orc village loomed ahead. The air was thick with the familiar scents of leather, iron, and the musky smell of the wild. The stronghold was far from pristine, but it was solid and formidable—just like the people who lived within it.

  Boruk led the way, his stride confident and full of pride as he neared the main hall, a place Marcus had grown to know well. The sun was beginning to dip behind the mountains, casting the stronghold in a warm, golden light.

  When they entered, the Chieftain’s voice echoed through the hall, deep and full of authority. “Boruk! Ragn! Vira! Welcome back.”

  The Chieftain—tall, broad-shouldered, and with tusks that curved up to meet his brow—spotted Marcus and his companions immediately. He broke into a wide grin. “And here’s the man of the hour!”

  Marcus stepped forward, a bit hesitant at first, but Boruk gave him an encouraging nudge.

  “You did it, kid. Show the Chieftain what you’ve earned.”

  The Chieftain’s eyes flicked to the badge on Marcus’s chest. He let out a deep, rumbling laugh, one that vibrated through the hall.

  “You’ve got an Iron adventurer badge already?” he bellowed. “Boy, you’ve only just begun! To earn that kind of recognition after a tournament of this scale…” He shook his head, as if trying to wrap his mind around it. “This is rare! Rare indeed.”

  Marcus wasn’t sure what to say, so he just nodded, still feeling the weight of the moment.

  “The boy’s got guts,” Boruk said with a proud smile. “And strength. That’s how he won.”

  “And what a victory it was!” the Chieftain boomed, then placed a massive hand on Marcus’s shoulder. “But it’s not just your strength that caught my eye. It’s the spirit that comes with it. We are a tribe of warriors, and you’ve proven yourself among the best.”

  He turned, raising a hand to call the attention of the others in the hall. Then, in one swift motion, the Chieftain pulled a dagger from his belt and sliced his hand.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  "Marcus elder!" The Chieftain called out in a Booming voice. "Will you accept the blood of the clan"

  "I accept!" Marcus said resolute.

  The Chieftan placed his hand on Marcus's chest, leaving his hand print on it.

  The chieftain spoke again authoritatively, "Marcus Elder, you may be human, but today you are "Orc". You may have been born to another, but today you are reborn "Orc", Marcus Elder today, you are Blooded"!

  The room erupted into a roar that shook the heavens.

  As the roars began to die down in unison..

  The Chieftain spoke again, For those who are Blooded, there’s a tradition. A reward that comes with that blood. The right to land.The right to marry within our tribe.”

  Marcus blinked. That had come out of nowhere. He glanced at Vira, whose face had gone crimson. His own thoughts trailed off in confusion, but the Chieftain seemed to take no notice.

  And the right to freedom and family.

  "Blooded warriors earn these rights, take them and strengthen our clan,” the Chieftain said with a grin. You’ve got many trials ahead, but the path is now open.”

  Vira’s blush deepened, and she quickly glanced away, fidgeting with the strap on her bag as she tried to hide her reaction. Marcus didn’t know whether to laugh or keep his mouth shut, but his eyes were drawn back to the Chieftain.

  “Now, that Iron coin,” the Chieftain said, eyes twinkling. “That’s something special. You’ve earned it. It’s a symbol of your worth in the world outside. It’s not just a badge; it’s the mark of someone who has made a name for themselves.”

  “Thank you,” Marcus managed, his voice slightly strained from the weight of it all.

  The Chieftain smiled broadly, and Boruk let out a deep belly laugh.

  “You’re more than just an adventurer now, Marcus,” Boruk said. “You’re one of us.”

  The Chieftain raised his mug high. “To Marcus, the Iron-ranked adventurer!” he boomed.

  The hall erupted in cheers, and Marcus felt his chest swell with pride. This was more than just a reward. This was a recognition that would change the way he was seen—and the way he would see the world.

  The evening was filled with feasting, drinking, and much revelry. Grek’s absence left a noticeable gap, but it wasn’t long before the celebration was in full swing.

  As the night wore on, Marcus found himself pulled into a conversation with Boruk and Ragn. They spoke in earnest tones about the trials of the world outside—what it meant to be an adventurer, the dangers they faced, and the lessons that came with survival.

  “There’s something you should know,” Ragn said, his tone serious. “The world’s a different place for those who’ve earned their ranks. You’ll attract attention. Powerful attention.”

  Marcus raised an eyebrow. “I’ve already noticed that.”

  Ragn nodded. “It’s going to get harder. You’ll face more threats. But you’ll also have more opportunities. The kind of opportunities you can’t even imagine right now.”

  “And the rewards that come with those opportunities will test your limits,” Boruk added, his voice low. “But you’ve got something most adventurers don’t—focus. And that’s what will see you through.”

  As the conversation turned to future challenges and potential alliances, Marcus found himself reflecting on everything that had led to this moment. His promotion was just the beginning. The journey was far from over, and the road ahead would be even more treacherous. But now, he had a name. He had a place in this world, a purpose.

  And somewhere, deep inside, he felt the stirrings of a new chapter—one filled with even greater risks, rewards, and, perhaps, the ties that bound him to this strange new world.

  But that, too, would come with time.