Mudala

Mudala began at dusk and lasted until deep into the night.

The orcs invited the true dragon from the mountaintop. The old shaman used a magical item to seal off the Stone Crow Clan's territory, preventing outsiders from peering in and allowing the enormous black dragon to attend without trouble.

The women wove a palace from grass rope and invited Caesar to take the seat of honor beside the old chieftain, above all the orcs of the Stone Crow tribe.

This was the second time Caesar had seen so many orcs gathered together since Orkash had been afflicted by the Flame Demon Curse. Many children who rarely appeared usually came running out as well. They were not afraid of him in the slightest, staring curiously at the black dragon as they played and chased one another.

Following ancient tradition, the orcs, men and women alike, went bare-chested, wearing painted leather shorts and sashes at their waists bearing the emblem of the Stone Crow Clan, singing at the top of their lungs.

They feasted on roast beef seasoned with honey and pepper, drank strong liquor from the Northern Kingdoms in great gulps, and laughed and frolicked with one another across the campfires.

These people were usually quite frugal, but today was entirely different. This was Mudala, the most important festival of the year to the orcs.

Plate after plate of food was carried before him. Fortunately, even while enjoying themselves, these people still remembered the black dragon. Knowing Caesar had a huge appetite, they held nothing back, delivering an entire fragrant roast lamb before him, along with platter after platter of black sausage, pigeon pancakes, all kinds of fruit, and barley venison soup.

"To the true dragon!" This was the first toast raised by the orcs.

They knew perfectly well that without Caesar, the Stone Crow Clan might still have been trapped in poverty and hardship, unable to hold a true Mudala, unable even to afford these ingredients.

The orcs felt heartfelt gratitude and respect for the black dragon.

"And to the Stone Crow Clan."

Caesar politely raised his cup. The stone goblet in his hand was countless times larger than an ordinary wine cup. At that moment, he suddenly missed having a human body.

When he had first sat down, his enormous body had caused him no small amount of trouble, leading to a whole string of embarrassing blunders. He crushed the laid stone piles beneath his rear, flipped an entire table over with his tail, shattered serving platters in his claws, and more. Even Luna, perched on his back, felt embarrassed and hid among his spikes, not daring to lift her head.

When the heavy drinking ended, the women beat their booming hand drums and danced to entertain the warriors. Only then did Mudala's true main event begin.

The men smeared their chests with animal fat from oil pits until they gleamed, all rubbing their hands together in anticipation, eager to show off their skills before the watching crowd.

In the ancient Orc Empire, after eating and drinking their fill, the orcs would enter the arena to spar and fight one another for the title of greatest warrior.

Although that supreme empire of old had long since crumbled apart, this part of the tradition could never be omitted. The warriors all rose with smiles and began walking toward the arena.

This was not a true fight to the death, so using bloodline power was absolutely forbidden, and spells were even less permitted. In Mudala duels, they had to rely entirely on pure physical combat.

The first orc quickly entered the arena, and someone immediately stepped forward to challenge him. The two warriors promptly began a bare-knuckle brawl brimming with raw power, circling, leaping, and attacking each other.

The other orcs formed a ring around them. No one intervened. Every one of them stared wide-eyed, shouting the names of the warriors in the arena. The atmosphere was fiery, their blood surging.

"They still have a long road ahead of them."

Sifu watched the fighting below and spoke as if casually. He raised his cup again and offered his thanks to the black dragon beside him. "To the Stone Crow Clan's most reliable friend."

Caesar nodded politely and raised his cup as well.

He sincerely respected the old shaman. Back when he had asked this old orc to teach him the principles of magic, Sifu had agreed and then wasted no time at all, giving him everything he knew and had learned without the slightest falsehood or deliberate misdirection.

The more time passed, and the more familiar Caesar became with Eladia, the more he understood how precious knowledge was in another world.

Of course, there were Sifu's personal reasons as well. The old shaman would never casually teach magical knowledge to an outsider; his own kind would naturally come first. But because orcs were born with dull aptitudes, even now there had not been a second orc with the talent to become a spellcaster.

Sifu was already very old and had no choice but to consider the future. He did not have much time left to keep waiting. He could only first pass on what he knew to Caesar, praying that through him, the path of shamanism within the Stone Crow Clan could be carried on.

What he did not know was that Caesar had likewise disappointed his expectations.

The blood in this fellow's body was nothing like that of other true dragons, not brimming with elemental magic. Though he had committed the precious knowledge Sifu gave him to memory, in actual practice he found it difficult even to perform the most basic cantrips. Becoming a spellcaster was harder than scaling the heavens.

Sometimes Caesar wondered whether he was the one useless good-for-nothing among ten thousand dragons.

What a clichéd, melodramatic mess.

"Gar! Gar! Gar!"

Just then, a thunderous cheer erupted from the arena, interrupting Caesar's thoughts and drawing both his and Sifu's attention beneath the grass-woven palace.

Gar was already a great warrior. Even without using bloodline power, his physical abilities surpassed those of other orcs by a fair margin. Moreover, he trained diligently, never ceasing to hone his combat skills. In pure hand-to-hand fighting, he could be called the strongest in the Stone Crow Clan.

By then, he had already defeated five orcs in a row without even breathing hard. He drove the popular contender Orkash back again and again, then finally kicked him to the ground, claiming his sixth victory.

"Gar! Gar..."

The orcs shouted excitedly, calling his name. The nearly two-meter-tall orc looked around and realized the outcome had been decided. Among the hundred warriors, no one else stepped forward to challenge him.

But during Mudala, even this commander-in-chief became recklessly puffed up. Still unsatisfied, he turned his gaze toward the seats of Sifu and Caesar.

The orcs followed his gaze. After staring blankly for a moment, someone suddenly shouted, "Fight him! Sifu! Fight him!"

The cheers quickly spread in wave after wave.

"Fight him! Sifu! Fight him!"

Caesar: ???

Just as he hesitated, he saw Sifu had already risen. His hunched body straightened amid crackling bones, and he casually stripped off the old robe he always wore, revealing equally knotted, well-developed muscles as he began striding forward.

"Mudala is an orc carnival. Legend says that when the Orc Empire held Mudala in the past, even the emperor himself had to follow tradition. If challenged, he had to enter the arena and fight."

Luna crouched on the table in front of him, hugging a pancake larger than herself and nibbling at it in tiny bites like a squirrel. As she ate, she explained to Caesar, "Though even if he lost, it would not affect the orc emperor's status."

Caesar shifted his gaze again.

Rather unexpectedly, Gar, the great warrior, had temporarily fallen into a disadvantage in the arena. The old chieftain's experience was far beyond what these young orcs could match, and Sifu's strength was no weaker either. His punches landed solidly on flesh, beating Gar until his nose was bruised and his face swollen, forcing him back again and again.

Caesar watched the scene blankly for a while. The gap between imagination and reality made his teeth ache. What kind of spellcaster was this? He was incredibly slick at close-quarters brawling too, even tougher than a great warrior.

However, constrained by age and stamina, the formidable old chieftain could not hold on in the end. Panting heavily, he stopped and had no choice but to concede defeat, withdrawing from the arena.

Cheers once again rang out in a continuous wave.

"That little brat Gar."

Sifu returned to his seat with a smile, shook the dust from his robe, and draped it back over himself. "He nearly knocked my teeth out."

"You knocked his teeth out, didn't you?" Luna was bent over her pancake, but when she heard that, she truly could not resist making the jab.

Caesar wanted to add something too, but he noticed Sifu smiling broadly as he lifted his chin toward him, signaling him to look down.

All drumbeats, shouts, feasting, and merriment came to an abrupt halt. Caesar turned and looked down, only to see every orc gazing at him eagerly, waiting for the true dragon to enter the arena.

"Do I have to go too?" he asked Sifu.

The old chieftain answered with a smile, "As a true dragon, you naturally have the right to refuse. It is merely an orc tradition."

"Tch. They really do treat you as one of their own."

Luna muttered softly.

After thinking it over, Caesar still chose to join. He did not possess the deeply rooted pride of dragonkind. He was utterly different from both chromatic dragons and metallic dragons, willing to live alongside the orcs without prejudice.

That was also the true reason the Stone Crow Clan could respect Caesar.