Reunion

In the royal capital of Paddington, besides the palace and the prestigious academy, the most famous place was undoubtedly the "Lions and Axes" arena. Barok quickly learned the direction from passersby and felt somewhat excited as he headed towards the arena.

This was the first time he had heard news of his tribe since its destruction, and his heart was filled with both joy and worry. After turning a few streets, he could already see the magnificent silhouette of the arena. As he approached, Barok became increasingly hesitant!

The orc tribes on the gravel wasteland were just a collective term for more than a dozen small tribes. Would the people from his tribe be here? Would Barotan be here? Chief Bata had died, but was there a chance that his son, Baqir, had survived, along with a few others?

These questions would soon be answered, making him hesitate as he stood under the rough stone outer wall of the arena, unable to help but recall the tragic scene of the tribe's destruction... He had been trying to avoid thinking about it as much as possible in recent days, as every time he did, it felt like his heart was being torn apart by pain!

Taking a deep breath, Barok walked up to the gate of the arena and presented the king's order coldly, saying, "Let me in. I want to see all the orc gladiators from the gravel wasteland."

Humans discriminated against orcs without distinction, even if facing an orc carrying the king's order, a mere gatekeeper would still show disdain and contempt. The old man with one eye snorted disdainfully, his tone mocking, "An orc is still an orc, even if you're holding the noble king's order, it won't change anything. Like a pig, even if you dress it in the finest clothes, it still can't become a noble steed! Go in, those filthy white-haired orcs are all in the arena, undergoing training under the devil Celt, hehe... Even if they don't die, they'll be skinned alive!"

Barok didn't respond to the gatekeeper's malicious taunts; it was meaningless. He desperately hoped to see his fellow tribesmen.

The gate opened a crack, and Barok slipped inside, glancing around and heading towards a passage leading to the interior. The voice of the gatekeeper behind him rang out again, "Orc, you're in the wrong place." He pointed to an inconspicuous black door on the left side of the spacious passage, sneering, "The middle is for the citizens of the royal capital and the noble lords to walk through. As for the lowly orcs... they can only use the slave passage."

Barok stared coldly at the gatekeeper, his eyes indifferent and expressionless. The gatekeeper was startled by his gaze, feeling a chill down his spine for some reason, and with a forced smile, he sneered, "What are you looking at? Even if you have the king's order, it won't change your orc identity."

"I'll remember your words." Barok replied indifferently, opening the black wooden door and stepping inside.

The gatekeeper relaxed, breathing a sigh of relief and spitting on the ground, "Damn orcs, don't know which slut they're serving to earn the king's order, wait until that slut is tired of playing with them, they won't even know they're buried under that tree as fertilizer!"

"Quick, Cyclops, come and open the door, hasn't the esteemed master arrived yet!" A guard hurried over from outside, loudly berating the gatekeeper. The Cyclops immediately showed a flattered and surprised expression, "Oh, is it Sir Seth or the honorable Duke Delta?"

"Both gentlemen have arrived, hurry up and open the door, do you want to eat here?" The guard impatiently shouted, and the Cyclops obediently went to push open the door, kneeling respectfully at the side of the door, his face full of obsequiousness. Duke Delta and another fat man who resembled a pig walked into the arena, ignoring the compliments from the onlookers.

"Seth, those orcs must be trained well. Whether we can win the favor of that prince depends on you." Duke Delta lightly stroked the stubble on his lips, instructing the fat man.

Seth was not only corpulent all over his body, but even his face was plump to the point where his eyes were almost invisible. His voice, however, was very sharp, "Hehe, rest assured, Your Grace, with that demon Celt around, even a group of sheep can be trained to be as fierce as wolves. You can rest assured."

"I naturally trust Celt, but I'm afraid his bad temper will lead to the death or injury of a bunch of orcs, which would ruin our performance."

"That's why I've been running over here every day, just to supervise this brainless guy. Now that I've received you, I'm already sitting in the audience." The fat man found it difficult to walk even a few steps, panting as he spoke, "Let's go in, those orcs were like a bunch of scared rabbits when they first arrived. They even cowered when they saw other gladiators training. I was ready to give up on them, but for the sake of that prince, I had to reluctantly let the demon Celt try. In the past few days, they've been looking pretty good, all able to wield wooden swords and shields like decent gladiators!"

They walked towards the arena, but suddenly, they heard the muffled roars of wild beasts, accompanied by loud screams of terror. Both men were startled, feeling a sense of foreboding. They rushed to push open the door and entered the arena. From a distance, they saw the center of the arena, where six powerful grassland lions were pouncing towards a group of huddled orcs! That damn Celt had released the lions!

Almost as soon as they spoke, Barok burst out of the narrow, dark, and foul-smelling passage and, along the edge of the stands, happened to see the dire situation... A lion with its bloodied jaws wide open was pouncing towards two orcs! The young orc who was hastily retreating while supporting an old orc looked so familiar. Barotan, you're really alive!

Blood rushed to Barok's head in an instant. He ripped the axe off his back, his feet forcefully kicked against the stands, and he shot out like a cannonball. In a moment of crisis, he involuntarily used his combat power, speeding up so fast that he arrived in front of the lion in an instant, swinging his axe horizontally.

With a dull crack, the mighty grassland lion didn't even have time to make a sound before it was struck on the head by the axe, smashing almost half of its massive lion head, and its nearly thousand-pound body collapsed to the ground, twitching its legs and feet, already dead beyond death!

The remaining five lions were intimidated, even forgetting to attack. They were stared down by Barlock's almost ferocious gaze. Even though they were foolish beasts, they could sense the wildness in the orc before them. They started to retreat, low growls escaping their mouths, but they had lost their ferocity. It was as if they were bullied cats, circling around Barlock, until finally, they all retreated into their iron cages, not daring to come out!The stands fell silent, unsure of who this sudden disruptor was. Sert sighed with relief, but then immediately showed a fierce expression. Although the orcs were unharmed, the lion had been killed, which displeased him greatly, as if he had lost face.Delta and Seston approached. "You damn idiot, Sert! Who gave you permission to release the lion? If these orcs had all died, could you bear the consequences?" Seston, as one of the owners of the arena, was displeased.Sert replied indifferently, "But they aren't all dead yet, are they? If I don't use the lion to stimulate their bloodthirst, do you think these scared orc cubs could put on a spectacular show in the arena? Instead of risking turning it into a farce, I'd rather let them die now than jeopardize my reputation.""You...!" Seston was furious at being insulted by one of the leaders of the gladiators. Delta waved his hand to stop him, but then pointed at someone in the arena thoughtfully. "Who is that young orc?""Ba...Barlock, is that you?" a trembling, hesitant voice came from behind. Barlock tightly gripped his axe, suppressing his emotions to prevent tears from flowing. He breathed a sigh of relief, turned around, and revealed a smiling face. "Barotan, we're finally reunited!"The burly young orc's lips trembled, tears streaming uncontrollably down his face. He suddenly threw himself into Barlock's arms, crying loudly, "Waaah, Barlock, our tribe is finished, our home is destroyed... everyone is dead... everyone... Uncle Bata, Uncle Batu, Bawul... they're all dead!"

"Yeah, they're all gone, but we're still alive..." Barlock's stiff smile betrayed his true feelings at that moment. "Since we're still alive, we must continue to live. Barotan, we're seventeen now, already grown orc men. From now on, only blood will be shed, no more tears."

"Are you Barlock? The young lad who was taught shamanism by Shaman Normans?" The orcs crowded around. Before the destruction of the tribe, Barlock was already quite famous. After all, among the entire orc population of the Gravel Wasteland, he was the only one with the talent to become a shaman, a fact not easily forgotten.

"I am Barlock, I'm your brother. I've been looking for you all for a long time, and finally, I found you!" Barlock looked at the orc tribe before him, feeling an extraordinary sense of kinship, once again feeling like he had found a home!

"Barlock, how have you been over this past year?... How did you escape that day?... Where are you now?" The orcs bombarded him with questions, leaving Barlock overwhelmed. Seeing his kin again, these orcs who had almost lost all hope due to the destruction of their tribe, showed rare excitement.

"Alright, we'll talk about all of that later. Let's deal with the situation at hand first." Barlock saw the wealthy-looking individuals pointing and whispering in the stands, presumably the owners of this place. He gestured for his tribe to wait and walked over, lifting his head to show the royal decree to the three leaders. "Under the decree of King Corek of Paddington, before the arrival of Prince of the Odrean Empire, I have the right to protect these orcs from harm."

A servant took the decree to examine it, and it was indeed authentic. Seston didn't care, Delta's face was grim, silently watching Barlock. Only Sert sneered, kicking aside an obstructive spectator, sending a hefty stone flying like a toy.

"So, you want to protect these orcs from harm? Of course you can, but you must first pass my test. If you can't even protect yourself, what right do you have to protect others?"