12 To the Slave Pits

"What do you mean Jukzuk?" Phillip couldn't help but ask why he was a lucky son of a bitch...

Jukzuk looked behind him, now feeling that little Hellie was far from them, he turned back around.

"Take a seat, Phillip."

Phillip did so without question, as he waited.

Jukzuk sat down on the couch, as he turned to Phillip and asked a few questions about Hellie. Jukzuk put on a smile while listening to the antics.

"I'm not sure how or why, but you have caught little Hellie's interest in you. If you like Orc ladies, then she might be one that you can pursue." Jukzuk said with a bit of interest.

Phillip's mouth was open, but this was lost of Jukzuk as his helmet covered his face, but then he squeezed out, "I-I'm not sure about that... She wants the strongest Orc... I can't be that..."

Jukzuk looked up a bit in thought, "But you can be the strongest?"

Phillip said with a bit of sadness, "I can't cultivate... You know that..."

"Ah, yes. But you are physically strong! You don't have to cultivate to be powerful. You have a brain in that bucket you call a helmet, right? Use it!"

Phillip felt shocked, as he looked up to Jukzuk, "But... But is that honorable to win that way?"

"Honor? Do you think it's honorable to be smashed? In truth, We, Orcs, do pride ourselves on strength, but we also believe in winning. So if you win by brain instead of brawn... Who cares? It's a shame that more Orcs don't think this way, but there are many that do. Those that do... Are usually the leaders, the chiefs, the Warlords!"

Phillip felt he was enlightened again, "Thank you, Jukzuk. I was stuck thinking..."

"I'm not going to lie Phillip. There will be a point where you must have Cultivation, but that doesn't mean without it you are at the bottom of the barrel. You just need to climb up with your strength. Only you will know when you get there if you can't climb higher." Jukzuk popped Phillip on the shoulder of his metal armor.

Phillip grunted.

"As for my niece... If it's you then I don't mind having a human nephew. Though having half-Orc children has always been an odd affair."

Phillip felt his face become hot thinking about children... He never ever entertained the idea that he could be a father one day. Even having a wife would be a dream, but he couldn't help but ask, "What's wrong with half Orcs?"

"Ah, well... Sometimes the child will take after one parent or the others. While their traits are mixed, like rounded ears or skin tones being slightly off color, the point is the cultivation methods. Half-Orcs will either be able to practice human cultivation or orc cultivation, but not both... In some rare cases, neither."

"Oh."

"It would be a shame, if you had a son that could only cultivate as a human. He would be alienated by both Orcs and Humans."

Phillip mused about how he was treated and concurred. That wouldn't be a good place, but he would protect him if he had too... His own... His own flesh and blood...

Phillip felt his eyes get misty thinking about flesh and blood... His sister.

"Well Phillip, I've come to wish you luck. In a week you will be in the slave pits. I have other business I need to see and can't visit you in this time."

"Alright." Both Jukzuk and Phillip stood and gave each other an Orcish goodbye.

Phillip mused as he walked to his backyard, and under the remaining morning sun sat down and attempted to cultivate again.

*******

A week later Gnarg called out to Phillip, as he walked to the foyer. He knew that Phillip was outback in the plot of land behind the burrow cultivating.

"Hoy! Phillip, it's time. I'm here to escort you to the slave pits."

Phillip sighed... Another failed day at cultivating. He got up and walked over to Gnarg, as he gave an Orcish greeting common among the same age, as they gripped each other's forearms in a handshake.

Gnarg laughed loudly, as he looked left then right, as to check for anyone listening, "Hellie hasn't been by since last week... Did you make her angry?"

Phillip grunted as he had no idea.

Gnarg gave a disappointed grunt, "I didn't want to make mention, but my brother keeps nagging me... So, let me give you some advice. Hellie for all that she is... Is seen as the beauty in the hearts of many Orcs. It is best if she doesn't pay you a lot of attention... Least they smash you in anger. A slave has very little rights, and no one would moan at your death, even if the Clan chief would hate you died, he wouldn't punish anyone."

Phillip thought about it... His ideas on Hellie didn't go too far, after his talk with Jukzuk... Even if she liked him, what could he do about it... He didn't want to have children that would be treated like him. Maybe he would find a wife and move to the middle of nowhere one day. Make a farm and live his life with his woman and children tending to the land.

That would be the future, and that future wasn't today. Phillip grunted in acknowledgment.

Hearing that Phillip understood, Gnarg let out an equal grunt, and he led to the slave pit arena.

At the entrance to the side for guards and personnel, Gnarg pointed, "Go down there and speak to Ragnath. He's the arena manager. He will direct you. Make sure you don't... Offend him. He's a bit different than most Orcs."

Phillip wondered what this meant, but grunted, as he walked down the path into the underground hold.

As he entered the smell of earth, aged blood, metal, and sweat filled his noise. The staggering smell was enough to make him miss a step, but he pushed on. He wondered if he could keep his head on while smelling this but found that he quickly became accustomed to the smell.

Seeing what appeared to be a guard, Phillip approached and gave an Orcish greeting, "Brother, do you know where I can find Ragnath?"

"Hoy? You must be the Legbreaker. We've been looking forward to the slave pits starting again and to you most of all. They say you are as strong as an Orc. Is that right boy?" The guard chuckled as if he didn't believe the words he said.

"I don't know, brother. I just know that if I don't fight, I die."

Startled by the response the guard let out a large laugh, "GOOD WORDS!"

He then looked over this armored tin can again, checking his build. He nodded to himself, "Follow the part to the left and you will meet Ragnath. He's the large red Orc... Honestly, you can't miss him, but whatever you do... Don't make mention of the knife that sticks out of the side of his head. Oh, and don't piss 'em off."

Phillip mouthed the words knight in his head, before he grunted, and followed the path.

As he approached another dimly lit area, he saw a large red Orc pointing his finger and yelling Orders to other Orcs. From what Phillip understood it was preparing for the show that was the Slave Pits.

Phillip walked up and called out, "This brother greets Ragnath!"

The large red Orc, who was a head taller than Phillip turned to see someone with a Metal helmet and chest piece.

"Are you the piece of shit they sent me, called Legbreaker?" The large Orc lumbered over, with his rotund mass. He was as fat as he was tall. His fat rippled as his mighty steps fell. Phillip looked up to see that just above his forehead stuck out a knight that was buried into the Orcs head. He wore a brawler's harness that was near hidden inside of his fat, as his fat ooze around the edges to almost conceal it. For pants, it was just a big pair of armor pleats. Phillip felt a murderous feeling from this Orc... Not something he had felt exactly before, but knew it was what Jukzuk called... Killing intent.

[Just how many has this guy killed to have such a think Killing Intent, that even I can feel it without cultivation?!?] Phillip thought, as his back became cold.

"...What are you looking at slave maggot?" Ragnath felt a gaze on the knight in his head.

"I'm impressed. I've never seen an Orc as large as you!" Phillip responded quickly.

Ragnath stopped in his step, before laughing like a lunatic, "Really?"

"One of a kind! I take it you were a former slave pit champion!"

"Hoy? How do you know? Who told you?" Ragnath stopped laughing, as he narrowed his eyes into slits in his fat face looking down on the tin can human.

"I can tell by looking. That killing intent is massive! I don't need no one to tell me!" Phillip grunted.

"By looking? By feeling? Haha! Alright, HAHA ALRIGHT!" Ragnath laughed as he slapped his fat thigh.

"Since I like you, you go out last! Remember Legbreaker, the last fighter seen is the one that leaves the impression. You have to put on a good show. It doesn't matter if you live or die, but as long as the show is good for those that watch! THAT'S YOUR PURPOSE! Do you understand, Legbreaker?"

Phillip grunted while he felt relieved. He was only guessing he might have been a slave champion. He looked like he was powerful at one time, but went to waste... Who else would slave here if that was the case? If he was wrong, he hoped it would flatter him... It was 'true' then great, if not...

Phillip didn't wish to think about it, as he moved to his cell provided to him.