Alyon could clearly see the entity on the red-maned horse on the side of his eye that shouldn't be seeing. He looked human, but his color was too crimson to belong to a human; besides, he had never seen such a muscular body on any human before.
"Actually, instead of two powers, I should say my power because now there is someone who will unite them!"
When the entity in human form, who jumped off the horse in a single move, set foot on the ground, crimson waves began to spread. The darkness, the darkness that held him captive for thirty years, was cracking and shattering; there were crimson lavas overflowing from all sides and advancing.
"Who are you?"
Amidst all the extraordinary things, this was the question Alyon asked; as if it wasn't enough that he came to the place where he was stranded alone, who was this person turning everything upside down? An answer was needed; he had trained his mind this way for years, he had managed to survive this way, he had to get the answer.
"You should have learned this the moment you ate that heart?"
Alyon froze, but his mind went back years ago, to the reward dungeon in the cave of the Raging Bull. His master, the owner of the Original Lineage Power, had eaten the heart that continued to beat to inherit Alyon's consciousness, and everything had started with that incident.
"The owner of the heart where the crimson seed settled to bloom was brave in a way befitting this, but in the end, he had to fall before he could rise."
The entity with black tribal tattoos on his crimson body came next to Alyon, grabbed him by his left shoulder, below which an arm didn't extend. Strangely, he didn't feel pain; it was his first time encountering a human taller and larger than himself, and the hand grabbing his shoulder almost extended to his neck, but what he felt in this state wasn't fear.
Even though he couldn't name it since he didn't know how it felt for a son to be grabbed by his father a bit harshly but with affection inside, he was pleased with his situation. Alyon, who always felt he had to be the strongest, always the bravest, always the best warrior, could comfortably accept for the first time that someone greater than him could exist.
"The owners of the other seeds were all inadequate; their hearts were always occupied by something else. Love, sacrifice, rejection, proving oneself, jealousy, and finally the never-ending fear of inadequacy belonging to you.
Because you possessed something that didn't belong to you from the beginning, the question of whether you were worthy of it turned into a worm gnawing at your heart. It made you make mistakes, lose fights; most importantly, you lost your self-confidence. Then another one was added next to it; your embarrassment towards your son began to open holes from another side."
Alyon was listening to the entity narrating the events that took place in different periods of his life as if he had seen them with his own eyes. Whatever was there was spilling out; the events he fought not to think about were before his eyes, and interestingly, he was no longer disturbed by them.
"Do you know, the Crimson Seed I bestowed can grow in exactly such a place. Your embarrassment towards your son was paid by sacrificing yourself, and by enduring the torment you suffered for thirty years, you actually understood who you are.
Warrior's Fury and Warrior's Rage are nothing but sprouts coming out from inside the Crimson Seed. Whichever one your heart is available for, the Crimson Seed bestows it upon you; both of them don't grow at the same time until the Crimson Seed fully blooms."
Alyon was experiencing an inner enlightenment in this place independent of time and space. He had received the answer to one of the questions he found to occupy his mind, and it was time for another.
"Do you think Bürküt is the only entity granting Lineage Power to you orcs? I would, of course, have a gift for this race, born and living as warriors with their everything!"
The black tattoos of the entity asking and answering himself began to shine. While he stood on the rock inside a river where crimson lavas flowed, it was as if his entire body was a battlefield. The black figures constantly changing shape were attacking each other, and the proud stance of the entity watching this didn't change.
"I couldn't give my power to whoever came before me like him; my gift had to belong to the most fiery warriors. I planted a seed in the heart of all of them; the hearts of the creatures with green skin were honored with the Crimson Seed.
Some were worthy of it, others caused it to dry up and vanish. Even if Bürküt's blessing left the orcs, no one could uproot my Crimson Seeds from where they were; only their owners would either exalt them or lose them.
You, Alyon, the first orc warrior who has the right to access all the power I bestowed even though he didn't have my grace when he was born, I now order you to wake up and keep my might alive on all battlefields. Alyon, uniting the Warrior's Fury and the Warrior's Rage in one body, wake up and put those wretches trying to put the chain of captivity on you in their place!
Lead with my name, with the name Kızagan Khan!"
"Wake up already, you Big Head! I have no strength left to endure!"
Alyon's right eye, which was covered with a gray curtain, shone; this change perhaps happened in a moment, but both Nafız and White Well had managed to notice it. The Chief Researcher's face was smiling; even though one-fifth of the Neo-Orc Army perished, he had finally got the commander he wanted, now the rest was only a matter of time.
"Wrestler, get ready! I won't leave you to this puppet!"
According to Nafız, the struggle ended; the person she called friend was dead now, and his body turning into an empty shell had no importance left. Wrestler wasn't just a power to be left in the hands of the enemy either; he was the most personal keepsake remaining from her friend.
"Did I die that everyone is trying to loot what belongs to me?"
When Alyon, floating inside the giant bell filled with light green liquid, spoke, cracks appeared on the glass. A second later, the hoses entering Alyon's body broke off one by one and fell to the ground, joining the glass shards and the green-colored water.
Despite not having a left arm and a left eye, Alyon stood upright like a mountain. The crimson color covering his rib cage stood out on his green skin at first glance. The Neo-Orc Army stopped moving with his complete awakening; just like Nafız and White Well, they were watching what he would do.
"I want Nafız to die today. Join your warriors and offer me that bitch's dead body as your first gift!"
The Chief Researcher stopped waiting a few seconds later; he gave his first direct order to his puppet to take the head of the army he created with his own hands. Hearing this, Nafız should have been scared, she should have even started running away, but it didn't happen like this; she was watching Alyon accompanied by a rarely seen smile on her face.
"You stupid man. You lost your mind so much with experiments that you cannot realize the embodiment of a god before you!"
When White Well turned his gazes to the direction Alyon was, he saw he came right next to him, and a breath later he made eye contact with Alyon. They were on the same level; even though the giant orc was much taller than him, he could now look at the world from the point he looked, but he still looked unhappy.
In this, the vise-like fingers of Alyon grabbing his throat had a large share. White Well, starting to foam at the mouth, wanted to call out to the mutated orcs with a final effort, but it was in vain; the Neo-Orc army didn't react.
"You tried to take my son, the Orc Empire I founded with my hands, and even my self from me, but look what happened? You ensured I gained a brand new power, together with an army only I can rule. I owe you; we will be even when I send the others to where you went!"
The wrist of his right hand twisted to the right and then to the left. The thing remaining from the neck that once carried a head on it was a piece of skin the thickness of a thread. The last face White Well saw, his dangling head reaching between his shoulders, belonged to the person he once wanted to make his puppet. Alyon was coming back after a short break.