Ohan Ogre's Sword
Nathanos had heard of the Dire Maul gladiatorial arena before, but the audience there truly surprised him. There were bare-chested Ogre, Night Elf draped in silk robes, and even Satyr and Goblins.
Nathanos couldn't help but wonder how they managed to get along and even sit together in the stands cheering.
"I've heard about the Dire Maul Arena before, but everything here is so amazing." The Witherer looked curiously at the scene outside the iron bars, only to hear the Female Elf beside him laugh out loud.
"Why are you laughing?"
"They're looking forward to seeing gladiators like you and me fight each other, while you care about what they think of each other."
"This is very important to me!" Nathanos snapped at her.
"How important?" She shrugged. "Are you hoping to one day stand with them?"
Nathanos gritted his teeth. He wasn't angry, but puzzled. Why could the Female Elf in front of him, like Alleria and Sylvanas, see through his thoughts? If explained by profession, Valeera was a Stealth, best at extracting secrets, which made sense.
"What's so funny?" he pressed, because his appearance seemed to make the Female Elf laugh even harder.
Valeera sighed and said, "Don't get me wrong, I didn't mean to make fun of you. I was just curious. I'm curious about what kind of Will you have to keep going."
"For the Forsaken!" Nathanos almost blurted out, but he swallowed his anger. He stopped speaking, his eyes fixed on the action in the arena. The first match was between a Thunder Lizard and Wind Serpent captured from Dusty Swamp —a small appetizer before the gladiators' main duel.
For the Forsaken, for the free- Will dead to have a place in this world.
Nathanos was constantly reminded of his mission, yet doubts continued to plague him, constantly reminding him: even if you keep moving towards your goal, what will you prove when the Forsaken truly stand on Azeroth? The living have always been the dominant force in this world; it is because of life that Azeroth exists as it is today, and death is always the opposite of life. In his contemplation, Nathanos couldn't help but ponder this question: are the Undead truly at odds with the entire world and all life within it?
As the Wind Serpent plunged its fangs into the Thunder Lizard's body, the spectators of the Dire Maul arena erupted in a thunderous roar, their voices far surpassing those of Orcs and humans. Nathanos hoped someone would step forward to quiet them down, but he discovered that the two Ogre who had organized the gladiatorial spectacle were also among the shouting crowd.
The commotion seemed unstoppable, but a sudden turn of events shattered it all. The arena doors opened, and the first match was about to begin.
A burly figure wriggled into the arena, his lower body dripping wet. He carried an iron trident and hissed at the same time.
"Naga?" Valeera frowned. She didn't like Naga; these serpentine creatures gave off a dangerous vibe and looked somewhat disgusting.
More than the Naga's appearance, Nathanos was concerned about the water droplets dripping from Naga body. The enslaver who trained this Naga must have been a clever fellow; he had prepared Naga for water beforehand, keeping it sufficiently moist. For creatures like the Naga, they were far more powerful in the water. While their abilities diminished somewhat on land, they were still formidable; their writhing tails could unleash power unimaginable to ordinary humans.
After a round of cheers, Naga's opponent appeared. He wasn't facing an Ogre, Night Elf, or Satyr, but an Orcs, a female Orcs. She wore a wolfskin helmet, obscuring her face. Tall and slender, she gripped a bandaged Greatsword tightly. Most of her skin was exposed, a dark hue, and the only form of protection she wore was shoulder guards with blades. Her gauntlets and leg guards didn't cover her knees, maximizing her agility in combat. For convenience, she even went barefoot, walking barefoot towards her opponent.
"This female Orcs seems to only focus on offense. She doesn't even have a breastplate; those animal hides alone won't be enough to stop Naga's trident," Valeera commented. Nathanos thought she made a lot of sense, but that wasn't what worried him. The female Orcs's attire already indicated that she was a sword focused solely on offense.
The Witherer smiled unconsciously, thinking that the trip had been worthwhile.
The audience was buzzing with discussion, wondering Orcs. Even Regar Wrath of the Earth looked puzzled. He had never seen such a gladiator before.
The duel began and ended in a flash. As the Ogre referee struck the drum, the female Orcs charged at the Naga Warrior with unimaginable speed. Before the crowd could decide who to cheer for, the battle was over. Before the leaves blown by the wind could even touch the ground, the sound of bones breaking echoed from the Naga's body, and he collapsed to the ground amidst screams.
"How is this possible?" Valeera exclaimed. The Female Elf had never seen such a swift and decisive battle.
"As long as you get the timing right, the duel can turn into a one-sided crushing defeat."
"That's not what I meant." The Female Elf turned to look at Nathanos. "Even when she walked into the arena, I could tell she was a battle-hardened Warrior. However, I had considered the attack methods this female Orcs might use, but the way she swung her sword just now was not Orcs's fighting style, but a human's."
"You also know human swordsmanship?"
Valeera glanced at Nathanos. "As a Stealth, a gladiator, one must naturally know all the unknown combat techniques."
"It's a waste of your talent to be a gladiator," Nathanos retorted, turning his gaze to the victorious Orcs woman, weapon raised high, accepting the cheers of the crowd. For Orcs, moments of glory are of only two kinds: victory or death.
After the first duel, Nathanos and Valeera faced off against Furbolg creature capable of summoning elementals and a powerful Ogre, respectively. While Valeera was in the arena, Regar's gaze was fixed on the Female Elf, Nathanos finally had a moment to act alone. He walked to the outer perimeter of Dire Maul and, under a Feralas oak tree, found his target. She was already waiting for him, and as Nathanos approached, she knelt on one knee.
The blood on the two-handed Greatsword had just been wiped clean.