The sun barely flooded the gorge in a shimring wave of golden rays when Zul'Gora paced in front of the room. She hunched forward, her thumbs drawing circles over her interlocked fingers.
"What is he wasting ti on?" She grumbled beneath her breath.
The night's discussion didn't yield any solution, at least none she could understand, except that Adam would likely lose. She snapped her gaze toward Zul'Rakhan, who leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest and eyes closed as if nothing could faze him.
"Humph," she snorted. "I didn't know that losing your manhood turned you into a statue. Or are you already too old to worry? Perhaps you should consu dry roots like this tribe of humans from beyond the sea. They beco so parched that maggots can't eat or propagate in their flesh."
Zul'Rakhan flinched once at the insult, then again at the strange practice. His lips quivered for a mont before he fired back. "Why don't you try it first, since you dislike our traditions, you unhinged, decrepit kid?"
Before she could answer, he raised his palm. "The great shaman knows more than we all do. If he thinks the human can win, I trust him. Now, enough with your tantrums."
For a mont, Zul'Gora growled before she turned her gaze to the door. "I hope you're right."
Inside the room, Adam wrote the last letter on a parchnt. He tucked it beneath a jade bottle, the stylish curves forming his words reading as: "To Zul'Gora. This is my way of saying thank you for your support. I won't ruin the surprise by telling you what this potion does, but make sure to drink half of it and make that old rooster drink the other. I wish you lots of fun. Adam."
Bao tilted her small head, sniffing the potion and patting the parchnt, while Adam chuckled. "Never thought I'd gift the last one to a couple of old orcs. Co on, Bao." All trace of amusent vanished from his face as his eyes narrowed into sky-blue slits from which mana drifted. "We're leaving."
Bao leapt on his shoulder, then licked his cheek gently. Her eyes said everything: I trust you.
With a nod, he adjusted his resized pauldron over his white shirt, then patted the skull carved on his broad tallic belt. His plated boots echoed on the stone floor, and the broken chains of his belt clinked as he flung the door open.
"Finally! "Quick, tell ..." Zul'Gora's voice betrayed her worry, but her eyes widened at his equipnt. The sa orcish armor over human clothes... Where had he gotten them? No, it didn't matter! "They won't like your looks."
"You said it yourself. I wasn't performing. I'm both the Adomash you teased, and Adam the human, so I'll fight as both."
Zul'Rakhan pushed himself off the wall, eyes alight with sothing more than understanding. Realisation. "rging both our cultures? Mhh. These stuck-ups will see it as an insult, but it is your way of showing us respect."
Adam nodded, then gestured to the stairs at the end of the corridor, right where it forked. "The great shaman's warriors are becoming antsy. Let's not make them wait more than necessary." He began to walk toward the exit, his voice echoing evenly. "I left sothing for you in the room. Trust , you don't want soone else to get it, so don't forget to pick it up later."
Both shamans frowned, but Adam simply pressed a finger over his lips as he reached the fork. Right as he did, he saw four armored warriors pressed against the walls. They glared at him, snorted, then focused on Zul'Gora and Zul'Rakhan.
"We'll lead you to the ritual grounds, shamans. Follow us." One of them commanded in a guttural voice. His hand found the hilt of his broad axe as he surrounded Adam with the others. "Move an ear the wrong way, and you're dead, human."
It was in a tense silence that Adam followed them outside the bastion. Fine by him. At least, it offered him the peace to observe Thaur'Gorath in daylight. He walked beside other bastions, most adorned with banners that fluttered in the morning wind. One had a dark fang woven against red fabric. Another had a torch displayed against its pale background.
Each large tribe seed to control its own fortress, he realised as the silhouettes of the first citizens and warriors ca into view. Slaves were there, too, hulking trolls and scaled kobolds who applauded despite their chains the mont they noticed him.
Were they eager to see soone more miserable than themselves or just eager to witness a brutal battle? Adam pursed his lips.
The warriors guiding him shoved anyone standing in the way until he reached an elevated arena. The slabs reached his waist, making it easy to follow the fights even from afar. It stretched several ters across, its far side dominated by a raised platform where Grum'Thal, his shamans, and nine legendary warriors looked on.
A hand gripped his shirt, the ground vanished beneath his feet, and he found himself heaved by the collar onto the arena. The warrior who led him snickered, while the crowd exploded into mockery.
His eyes only narrowed on his adversaries.
However, Zul'Gora's voice sliced through his focus. She stretched her wrinkled hand up, biting her lip. "Your sister. I-I swear on Grash'Thul's na that I'll keep her safe during your fight... and after, if the worst happens."
Adam exchanged a glance with Bao. She shook her head, but he grabbed her furry body, squatted, and handed her to Zul'Gora. Bao whimpered, flinging her paws toward him. Yet, he couldn't fight monsters while paying attention to her.
"I'll be fine." He rose, showing her his board, confident back. "Don't miss a crumb, so you can recount everything to Quintella after we return to the college."
"Adam," Zul'Rakhan called out, his voice unusually hesitant. "No matter what... force them to acknowledge you."
Without turning back, Adam stepped to the center of the arena. "That's what I planned."
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AN: I'm not really feeling better, but not releasing chapters makes feel even worse. If the quality or content drops, please let know. I'll do my best to recover asap. (Just got my new glasses.)
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