Orc Harem - 13 (Patreon)

They shuffled outside in short order, the odd party of five she-orcs and a lone human male. Adam scrunched his face as he was greeted with the light and warmth of the morning sun.

Hera and Akari led the group to an open patch of flat soil - actually sand, Adam realized as they drew closer. A large swath of sand roughly twenty meters across, right beside the barn - which Akari and Druma disappeared into. They appeared again a short time later. Akari carried a large, painted jug while Druma held a bundle of folded pelts in her arms.

Akari took the jug and began to pour out white powder onto the sand, moving in a circle. Druma, meanwhile, approached the party while she unfolded the pelts - uncovering gleaming steel.

Weapons.

Adam felt a jolt of concern… but only for a moment. Once Druma was close enough, he could see the blades were clearly dulled. Practice or ceremonial weapons, if he had to guess. Blood wasn’t going to be drawn today. 

At least, that’s what Adam hoped.

Druma offered Sayla first pick and the gray she-orc picked out a pair of ornate daggers. The same weapons as last time, Adam noted. Sayla flipped and twirled the two blades, a small show of her skill and finesse. Her gaze flashed towards Adam for an instant - enough for the human to pick up the disdain in her eyes.

He felt Jen squeeze his arm then.

“Adam, are you sure you want to do this?” She leaned into him, keeping her voice low, barely above a whisper.

He turned to face her, appreciating Jen's concern and affection far more than what Sayla was offering him. Adam made himself relax, hoping to put Jen at ease in turn.

“Let’s be honest here: Sayla’s bitter as hell and doesn’t like me. We can’t let that fester for five months.” Adam explained.

“I was thinking - hoping that we’d get her to come around eventually…” Jen offered. She winced then, as if just realizing how poor that course of action would play out.

“And that’s exactly what I’m doing now.” Adam countered. “I know Sayla’s type. She follows the strongest and she thinks I’m weak. Too weak to be Chieftain. I’m going to prove her wrong here and now. I would have had to pass this trial anyway. We might as well get it out of the way.”

Jen opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came. He could see on her face, tiny twitches of expression reflecting her racing thoughts. Then… understanding. And agreement. Her face, eyes, they softened. She gave him a nod and a gentle smile.

“Okay. Just… be careful.” She gave his arm another squeeze, lingering on his muscle this time.

Adam grinned. He couldn’t help it.

“A kiss for luck is all I’ll need.”

Jen rolled her eyes… but still she smiled and indulged her human. As always, her lips were soft and sweet. Even after enjoying such sweetness to its fullest the night before, Adam simply could not tire of it. Neither could he tire of her pleasing warmth. The kiss lingered on, with Jen pressing up against him, holding tight to his shoulders, his neck. Adam’s heart began to pound in his chest. That was good, he thought. He’d benefit with his blood up and hot.

A distance away, a scoff of disgust. Adam didn’t even need to look to know the source.

“Enough stalling!” Sayla called out, her voice heated. 

Adam and Jen broke apart with Jen possessing enough orcish decorum to look the tiniest bit bashful. They both turned and saw Druma standing before them, presenting Adam the open bundle of dulled weapons. From the batch of maces, axes, assorted blades, Adam picked out an orcish longsword - the closest to what he was most used to.

It wasn’t nearly as refined and polished as its human or elven counterpart, the blade curved and slightly jagged towards the tip, but it was well-balanced enough. It would get the job done. And that was all Adam needed it to do.

Beside him, he caught Jen wearing a bright smile.

“The Chieftain’s sword.” She said, eyes glimmering brilliantly. “Good choice.”

By then, Akari had finished pouring out the ring of white powder. Heralda gave Sayla and Adam a nod, motioning them to enter. Both stepped inside the ring.

“Akari, if you would please…” Heralda gestured towards the Clan Mystic.

Akari moved to the center of the ring, stopping midway between Adam and Sayla. The mystic lifted her arms to the sky.

“Today, G’Kalis gathers to witness a chieftain prospect take on the Trial of Battle and test his prowess against the Clan Champion!” Akari announced, her words cutting sharp and clear through the crisp morning air. “Should the prospect emerge victorious, he will have proven his worth in the eyes of G’Kalis and the old gods! But should he fail… he will have proven himself unfit for the title of chieftain!”

Adam tightened his jaw. He glanced towards the rest of the G’Kalis women standing outside the ring. Heralda looked on with hard, unreadable eyes. Druma was observing with quiet, shy interest. Only Jen met his gaze. She flashed him an encouraging smile.

He knew what he was fighting for.

On the far side of the ring, Sayla slid and clicked the blades of her daggers together. A quick flurry of steel. A show of talent… and intimidation. The she-orc smirked at Adam, venom in her eyes.

Adam didn’t rise to her wordless taunt. He kept his face like stone, giving her nothing. No words, not even a flicker of emotion. He gave his dulled orcish blade a few swings, getting a feel for the weight, the balance, seeing how it handles. There was a low hum as it cut through the air. When he was satisfied, he gripped the handle tight and readied himself, lowering into a stance.

“The rules are simple.” Mystic Akari continued. “The fighters must remain within the circle until the fight is finished. Until there is a victor. A fighter loses if they are disarmed, struck with a ‘killing’ blow, or otherwise forced out of the ring. The fight will last as long as it needs to.”

Akari turned to give Adam one last look. There wasn’t much he could parse from her expression, save for perhaps a faint glimmer of sympathy. The Clan Mystic gave him a curt nod before leaving the ring.

It was time.

Across from him, Adam saw Sayla drop into a stance of her own. Low and tense, a hungry panther ready to pounce. The human breathed in, feeling nothing but calm. Wild cats were dangerous… but his ancestors hunted them for sport.

Adam was ready for whatever fire Sayla had for him, no matter how furious.

Then… a shout. Heralda’s voice, strong and booming.

“Begin!”

Sayla let out a splitting howl and charged forward. Quick feet punched into the ground, each step kicking up sand. Her venom was burning like acid, her red eyes alight like wild flame.

Adam remained silent, keeping his body and his mind still and ready. Sayla was red-hot iron… but he was tempered steel.

The she-orc closed the distance in the span of heartbeats. She was upon him then, battle cry ringing.

Their duel began with fury. Sayla struck out with both of her daggers, quick slashes meant to push Adam back. It was an aggressive first strike but the swordsman stood his ground, checking each blow with his sword. It was second nature to Adam, movements drilled into his mind, into his muscles since he was a young lad.

Sayla drew back with a huff, her eyes burning as they locked on him. They began to circle each other, moving slowly, carefully.

Another voice called out from the side then, sweet on Adam’s ears and full of passion. Jen.

“You got this, babe!” She cheered.

They were simple words but the love they carried was powerful all the same. Enough to get Adam’s heart pounding harder. Enough to make his blood sing. Adam couldn’t help but smile.

Jen’s vocal support had the opposite effect on his opponent. Sayla’s face twisted into a scowl - she wasn’t just annoyed, she was offended.

With a savage growl, the she-orc launched forth again. For the second time, man and she-orc came to blows, with Sayla unleashing another flurry of strikes with her daggers. Dulled steel clashed and scraped against dulled steel, each blow ringing through the morning air. Just as before, Adam checked each strike, blocking or deflecting. But this time he did not leave the attacks unanswered.

This time he pushed back.

He didn’t take wild swings and stabs the way Sayla did - such mindless attacks would do him no good. Nor did he overextend himself. His swings were measured, deliberate. Directed to put Sayla off balance and on the backfoot.

He had another advantage - the length of his sword gave him superior range over Sayla’s daggers. And by the look on his opponent's face as she lurched away from the edge of his sword, she knew it then too. 

He swung again and Sayla ducked away, retreating. Just as he wanted her to. Adam noted her footwork as well, now lacking a certain finesse. The fire in her eyes still burned bright, but it was dimmer now. Slightly so, but Adam caught it. She was unsure. Unbalanced. 

As if she hadn’t been expecting a response from him.

It was Adam’s turn to feel that fire within. His brow pinched, feeling… irked. More than that, he felt insulted.

Huh… She really expected me to roll over…

There was a flash of uncertainty across her face then. Faint, but not as hidden as she wanted it to be. Adam felt a smirk pull at the corner of his mouth. Sayla sneered back. They circled each other.

“No shield to hide behind now.” She hissed. “No suit of armor to keep you safe from me!”

She lunged forward, making fast stabs. Adam was quicker on his feet. The dulled blades never came close. She lunged even further, crying out. Adam swatted her blade away, deflecting her momentum. She stumbled but caught her balance - her eyes wide as she stopped just short of the ring’s edge.

If you ever manage to hit me, I might be worried…

Adam bit his tongue - but from the fury he saw as she whirled back around, his grin struck worse than any taunt he could think up.

Jen hooted from the sidelines. That only seemed to make Sayla angrier. 

The she-orc gave a shout, clashing her daggers together. Adam didn’t flinch.

Sayla advanced… then attempted a feint. Tried to draw Adam’s eyes with one hand while lashing out with the other. But it was obvious - shockingly so.

Adam’s eyes narrowed - more in confusion than anything - as time seemed to slow down. He deflected the attack easily, sending his opponent stumbling again.

Sayla spat a curse as she regained her balance, whirling around to keep eyes on Adam. She moved slowly, her body visibly tense. But Adam… Adam actually relaxed. 

A calm settled over him as he came to a realization.

Sayla wasn’t nearly as skilled as she thought she was.

Adam’s smirk grew then. 

“I might not have my shield or all that fancy armor…” Adam finally spoke, not hiding his mirth. “But from what I’ve seen, I doubt I ever needed them.”

The flash of outrage across Sayla’s face, Adam couldn’t say he didn’t enjoy it. Clan sister to Jen or not, so far Sayla had been nothing but a pain in his ass.

Then… a flicker of something in the depths of his mind. A thought more devious than he expected from himself. But… he couldn’t deny the allure.

He strode forth, sword gripped tight in hand.

“And there’s a funny thing about plate armor…” He trailed off as he slowly closed the distance.

Sayla relaxed a tiny bit, expecting him to continue. It was a small opening… but that was all Adam needed.

Poor girl…

A burst of speed. His legs launched him forward. Right into Sayla’s space. Putting them face to face. Too close for even her daggers to be of use.

Her eyes went wide - in fear or shock, Adam didn’t care which. He didn’t strike with his sword. His “killing blow” was something she would never expect. Sayla gave a wordless cry as snaked an arm around her wrists, locking them together under his arm, leaving her with no way to fight back. His other arm - his sword arm - came up, putting the handle of the orcish sword right up to her throat.

Sayla was fit, strong… but Adam was stronger. Like this, she was helpless. But not disarmed.

Adam and Sayla were locked together, their faces inches apart. There was silence over the makeshift ring. Even Jen had ceased her cheering. No sound but for their heavy breathing.

Then Adam spoke. A whisper, low and harsh.

“I move faster without it.”

Sayla was stunned. Adam savored the look. Her lips parted but no words came.

Another opening. Adam took it.

He pressed in even closer… and stole a kiss from the G’Kalis Clan Champion.

Sayla let out a tiny squeak as Adam’s lips met hers. She didn’t curse or thrash about or spit in disgust. She did nothing but go still. Too stunned to move.

Behind them, Adam heard two gasps. One was unmistakably Jen - of the pleasantly surprised variety, much to his relief.. The other had to be Druma. Joining them was a bark of laughter. Akari, he was certain.

Finally, Adam broke the kiss. He pulled back, feeling no small measure of satisfaction at the dazed look on Sayla’s face. The she-orc blinked, her head no doubt spinning. The fire, the venom, the sheer nastiness, all gone. Replaced with cloudy eyes… and the faintest of blushes across her cheeks.

Her lips parted again. Sayla made a sound, a meager attempt to speak. No doubt her thoughts were a whirlwind. But Adam didn’t give her the chance to collect herself.

He gave the she-orc a shove. A single, strong push.

With a pitiful little cry, Sayla stumbled backwards, tripping over her feet. There was no chance to regain her balance. She landed on her backside… outside the ring.

Jen let out a cheer. As did Druma. For Adam, it was most pleasing to his ears.

Sayla sat up, eyes racing about in confusion. She looked from Adam to Jen to the others, bewilderment written on her face. Embarrassment as well. But not anger, Adam noted. Not even as her eyes met his - before she pointedly looked away.

Akari came forth then, moving into the center of the ring. The Clan Mystic looked satisfied. More than that, she was impressed.

“The prospect is victorious!” She announced, proudly clapping Adam upon the shoulder. “He passes the Trial of Battle!”