A flicker of despair rose in Parker Pan's heart. Just as he was about to shout for Yriel's help, what happened before his eyes left him stunned.
To show his affection, and how happy he was to have won the fight, Hols stuck out his tongue and licked Tyranda's face...
The air around them fell utterly still...
"I won. Wanna keep fighting?" Hols raised his head to look at Parker Pan and spoke in Orkish.
His eyes were full of pride. In Greenskin culture, winning a fight earned the envy and praise of the other Greenskins.
Parker Pan understood Orkish, but he had no idea how to answer... He had never seen anything like this in his life. It was as though his thousand years of adventuring experience had all been for nothing.
Hols found that strange. Why wasn't he getting praised? Had he not beaten them into submission yet? He climbed off Tyranda, ready to keep fighting Parker Pan.
"Stop!" Ovisus's clear voice halted the fight before it could erupt. Yriel's faint figure floated behind her, serving as a deterrent.
It had also been Ovisus who had persuaded Yriel not to intervene earlier. Every time he acted, he consumed part of his own soul. It was best if he could avoid doing so.
"Huh? We're not playing anymore?" Hols asked in confusion.
"Playing? What you just did was far too dangerous! That wasn't playing at all!" Ovisus could understand some Orkish, thanks to the studying she had done after sensing the language of her mission.
She could not speak it well, however, so she used psychic power to communicate with Hols.
Hols was delighted. He had come here to find his friend. It was his friend's description of a civilization completely unlike Ork society that had sparked his curiosity