Page 6 of Orc's Pride

Though, I suppose being underestimated does have its perks sometimes.

Like now.

“If I didn’t have places to be,” I press the tip of my blade against his neck, watching rivulets trail down his dark skin. “I’d savor this a little more.”

“Pitha,” Gor calls to me.

“Here.” I call back, mainly to reassure him I’m not dead.

As if I’d let myself get wiped out so easily.

“P-Please…” the dark elf coughs up more blood.

It makes me grimace. “Pathetic.”

With a swift movement, I catch his throat with my blade and slice it. The life drains from his eyes quickly, and he’s left staring unseeing up at the trees surrounding us. If I had it my way, I’d drag them all back to base and have them strung up in the middle of the center square to be tortured at everyone’s convenience.

Sure, it might be a little early to introduce the children to such heinous displays, but that’s never stopped the dark elves now has it?

So why should we be any less blood thirsty?

“Pitha.” Gor calls again.

Rolling my eyes, I wipe my blade clean on the dark elf’s coat and head back through the brush.

“I told you, I’m here.”

“Well, I didn’t see you. Forgive me for worrying.” Comes his annoyed response.

It has me smiling, despite the situation presented to me. As much of a hard front as my second likes to put on, his loyalty to me is commendable. Even if half the time I’m a rat bastard myself.

At Gor, and the rest of my troop’s feet, are two dark elves with ropes tied around them. They both cower as we close in on them, making a tight circle that is more intimidating than anything.

“What’s this?”

Gor puts both hands on his hips, a small cut on his chest visible. “They were trying to run away.”

I scoff. How dishonorable. What is the point in picking a fight if you can’t finish it yourself? If you decide to pick up a blade, you better be ready to die by it. That’s how battle should be. If you aren’t ready to be put to death on the battlefield, then stay home with the rest of the children.

“I see.” Glancing around my troop, I take them all into account. Good, no one’s been taken down. “Why don’t we take them back to base? See if they really think going up against us orcs is smart.”

Laughter rumbles through my troop, delighting me. Though I may be the most bloodthirsty out of all of us, at least I’m not in the minority when it comes to punishing our enemies. All of us have our own story, our own harrowing tale on why our vindication to erratic the dark elves is so strong.

I haven’t met a single soul yet, aside from the children born in recent years, that hasn’t been affected by them in some way.

It’s enough of a motive for me to continue to fight for my people, no matter the cost to me.

In the end, I’m willing to die protecting the clan. And that’s what being a Chieftain means.

Glancing around, I realize that none of us have mounts. Well, that’s inconvenient.

“Silan.”

One of the youngest of the troop straightens up. “Yes, sir.”

“Go and gather the mounts with Rikarn. Bring them back to base and make sure any wounds are taken care of.” Glancing over them, I snort. “And clean yourselves up.”

“Yes, sir.” They echo back to me.