The crowd gathered in front of the tent was talking amongst themselves when Asıksurat spoke to them, making her voice quite stern:
"In a moment, you will enter the chief's tent. If you want to come out of that tent alive, you will not utter a single sound, no matter what happens inside. If you are given any command, you will obey without question."
As the speech ended, an angry-looking guard Orc, clearly clad in leather armor, stepped out from inside. Looking at the crowd gathered in front of the tent, he rolled his eyes disdainfully and announced:
"Pass through and enter one by one!"
Due to Asıksurat's serious warning, the demeanor of the warrior exiting the tent, and the atmosphere radiated by the adult Orcs standing on either side of the entrance, the newborns began entering the tent in fear.
Nafız was in the middle of the group. When her turn came and she entered, she saw that those who had gone before her were kneeling inside the tent. As she stared blankly, a guard seized her arm and threw her into the group in the center.
Even though Orcs were low-intelligence beings, the atmosphere inside the tent made them realize that they needed to kneel and wait in the same spot.
While waiting for the rest of the newborns outside to come in, Nafız had a chance to examine the tent. The fact that this gigantic, red tent was single-colored, unlike the others, must have been a sign of authority.
It was different from the other tents, which were erected with a single central support. This structure, which had a more complicated design where numerous side poles were fastened together with beams, served as the chief's source of pride.
"Begin."
As the elderly Orc spoke, the guards grabbed the first newborn they could lay their hands on from the group and led him forward. Nafız turned her gaze toward the source of the voice and first saw the elderly Orc standing in the center, then two younger-looking male Orcs standing to his right and left. These males, seated at the end of the tent, were staring harshly at the newborn group while simultaneously busy eating the game meat in front of them.
These three Orcs had one striking feature: their furs. The elderly Orc wore the pelt of a white bear missing its lower jaw, while the Orc on his right wore a tiger pelt. The Orc on the left, who was relatively younger than the other two, wore a grey wolf pelt.
"The grandson of our Tribe Chief will test your strength, the son of our Chief will determine your duty, and our Chief will grant you the name you will carry until you die."
After the warrior made his announcement, the newborns understood why they were there. Excitement appeared on the faces of the majority, but anxiety fell upon Nafız.
Nafız, who was a victim of a civil registry employee in her previous life, had a great phobia about names. While her parents wanted to name their firstborn son Nafiz, meaning piercing, or influential, the clerk had simply written Nafız and moved on.
While old traumas disturbed Nafız, the sound of a slap echoed through the tent. The slap that the Orc with the wolf pelt delivered to the standing newborn wiped away all thoughts from Nafız's mind. The newborn, who was knocked to the floor by a slap from an adult Orc, trembled with fear, while the wolf-pelted Orc laughed gleefully.
"Kalındiş, you bastard!"
"He only cares about his own pleasure!"
Judging by the murmurs of the Orcs waiting guard duty inside the tent, they were tired of watching this show. The newborn naming ceremony had turned into a ritual to satisfy the desires of Kalındiş, the chief's grandson. Although they had to serve loyally, these occurrences truly angered some of them.
"Quartermaster, Forester."
The Orc with the tiger pelt looked at the newborn on the floor and declared his duty.
"As you command, Kaplanyürek."
There were three more Orcs sitting cross-legged in the corner, and one of them replied.
The speaker was the Orc named Domuzkuyruk, who was in charge of quartermaster duties. He was wearing a leather armor made of pigskin. He hurriedly sent another Orc next to him to retrieve the newborn lying on the ground.
The fact that Domuzkuyruk sent his subordinate, fearing Kalındiş would injure the fallen Orc further, caused the two Orcs next to him to laugh.
"Keskingöz, Delibalta, will you still be able to laugh like that when there's no one left to clean up after your teams?"
Domuzkuyruk's outburst silenced the two Orcs. Although Domuzkuyruk was like an ant that Delibalta, the head of the warriors, and Keskingöz, the head of the hunters, could crush at any moment, they didn't mind indulging him a little.
They figured they could at least do this, as the quartermaster fulfilled all the dirty work and needs of their teams. Domuzkuyruk, knowing the situation would definitely not be like this if the quartermaster's staff shortage didn't directly affect them, didn't escalate the matter.
The newborn, helped to his feet by the quartermaster's subordinate, turned to the chief to receive his name. The chief, looking indifferently at the newborn from his seat, spoke with a bored tone as if he were about to perform the hardest job in the world.
"Düşenyaprak!"
As Düşenyaprak moved behind the head of the quartermaster's division in fear, Nafız began contemplating the scenario that awaited her. The sound of a slap, followed by the sound of a punch, and yet another newborn falling to the floor.
Kaplanyürek spoke once more:
"Hunter."
Keskingöz looked at the fallen newborn with satisfaction. Those knocked down by a slap were assigned to quartermaster, those knocked down by a punch to hunter, and those knocked down by a kick were assigned to warrior. After a few rounds, it was clear that this system never failed.
Despite the known classification system, Kaplanyürek's declaration of the duties struck Nafız as odd. The fact that he only specified the jobs for those going to the quartermaster's division particularly caught her attention. It was as if this person was striving to insult the division.
When it was Nafız's turn, more than half of the group already had their duties determined. While Kalındiş rested for a while to enjoy the taste of the game meat, Nafız's walk to the front of the chief was completed.
Kalındiş raised his head from the food and, upon seeing Nafız, couldn't suppress the urge to laugh and burst into guffaws.
After laughing for a long time, the Orc regained his composure and looked at Nafız, whose physical characteristics were far behind those of an average newborn. He said:
"How dare you bring this poor creature here? First, I will kill her with a single slap, and then I will deal with whoever is responsible for this audacity."
As Kalındiş walked towards her with murderous intent in his eyes, Nafız trembled, her teeth chattering from fear. Death had come suddenly in her previous life; this was the first time she was experiencing this kind of terror. Her life was about to be taken by a single blow from this savage creature, and there was nothing she could do.
As she closed her eyes and waited for death, a voice came from the area of the division managers.
"Chief Ayıboğan! The Quartermaster division has a shortage of Orcs; please let's not waste our resource."
Domuzkuyruk had uttered these words just as Kalındiş was about to deliver the slap. Kaplanyürek, leaping up in anger from his place, yelled at the Quartermaster chief:
"Who do you think you are! Those who interrupt the sacred ceremony shall be puni..."
Before Kaplanyürek could finish his sentence, a muffled voice was heard from his left:
"Assign her duty."
The voice might not have been loud enough, but the authority it contained was enough to make everyone in the tent shiver. The person speaking was wearing a white bear pelt. His braided beard extended from beneath his chin, and although he appeared physically weakened, the aura he radiated instinctively terrified those around him.
This Orc, known by the name Ayıboğan, had reigned as the tribe's chief for a hundred years. No one in the tribe could dare to test the weight of the words that came out of his mouth. That included his own son.
While Kalındiş looked at his father with astonishment, Kaplanyürek spoke:
"Quartermaster, Shit-collector."
Kaplanyürek sat back down, but his gaze was fixed on Domuzkuyruk. If he had the ability to kill with his eyes, a massacre would have been happening inside the tent right now.
Domuzkuyruk gratefully saluted the chief and returned to his place. Ayıboğan did not even deign to look at Nafız, who was trembling upright; he mumbled the words as if they were a favor to the wretched creature before him:
"Trembler."
When the assistant of the Quartermaster division came to take her, Nafız was unable to move.
The mortal fear she experienced bore no resemblance to the movies she watched or the novels she read. She felt no blood flowing; her limbs were paralyzed, and her brain had stopped thinking. Like a dry tree branch, she arrived at the Quartermaster division in the arms of the assistant Orc.
Following this strange incident, the ceremony continued, but Kalındiş seemed unlikely to relax without getting revenge for the humiliation he had experienced. He waited for the next newborn, eager to kill him with the first slap.
From the line of newborns, an Orc that astonished the entire tent began to advance. This person, wobbling as he came before Kalındiş, did not look much like the others. Looking at this newborn who was as developed as an adult Orc, Kalındiş felt that he was facing another humiliation.
The tusks he was named after and boasted about as his greatest feature were slightly thinner compared to the tusks of this newborn Orc. This difference, which could only be noticed by looking very carefully, stressed Kalındiş because the other person was a newborn.
"I must get rid of him, I must get rid of this Orc no matter what."
Driven by the thoughts racing through his mind, he slammed his fist into the face of the big-headed Orc in front of him. As the sound of breaking bone tore through the air, the Orc who took the punch was thrown backward a few steps and fell to the ground.
The intensity of the sound was extraordinary; everyone turned their gaze to see the state of the Orc on the ground, but there were some exceptions. The division heads, the chief's son, and the chief, unlike everyone else, directed their attention to Kalındiş. These experienced Orcs had seen everything, but they insisted on not believing their eyes.
The chief's grandson had disregarded the rules of the ritual, throwing a punch instead of a slap, and had cracked the newborn's skull, bringing him down. Seeing that the expected scene did not happen, Kaplanyürek rushed forward to save the situation.
"My son, Kalındiş, I think the newborns cannot withstand your might. Can you not show mercy and leave this job to a weaker warrior than yourself?"
Kalındiş replied with an unpleasant expression:
"As you wish this way, it is my duty to obey your commands."
After finishing his words, Kalındiş quickly walked out of the tent after saluting the chief, not lifting his head from the ground until he exited the large leather door.
Following the events, most of the Orcs in the tent appreciated Kaplanyürek's mercy, while the chief and the division heads were pondering the strange incident that had just occurred. The adult Orc, who held the title of the chief's grandson and received the best care, had punched the newborn's face with all his fury.
As a result, while the newborn was thrown back a few steps and fell down, unable to find his balance due to the size of his head, the hand of Kalındiş, who threw the punch, was broken.
Of course, Kaplanyürek was among the first to understand what had happened. Following his son's outburst, he assigned a duty to the Orc lying on the ground:
"Quartermaster, Shit-collector."
Domuzkuyruk's two assistants appeared like lightning next to the Orc lying on the ground as soon as the word Quartermaster came out of Kaplanyürek's mouth. These two Orcs silently leaned into the newborn's ear and said, "Don't move, close your eyes," then turned to the chief, like everyone else, for the naming.
The boredom that had been etched on the chief's face since the beginning of the ritual was now replaced by an expression of astonishment and anger.
"Wobbly-Head."
When the chief gave the Orc lying on the ground his name, the two assistants from the Quartermaster division carried Wobbly-Head away topsy-turvy and blended into the crowd behind Domuzkuyruk. Delibalta felt sadness deep down while watching this scene. Such a physique was material that should have been in the warrior ranks, and now he would be forced to deal only with collecting excrement.
The ceremony proceeded routinely, lasting about one more hour. After the naming of the newborns was completed, the division heads took their groups and left the tent.
Chief Ayıboğan rose from the spot he had been sitting in all day. After stretching his numb body, he looked towards the door and said:
"How much longer are you going to stand there?"
Following these words, a shadow entered through the tent door.