Life as the War Maiden for the Horde was... satisfying in a rather twisted way.
Unlike the Coliseum, I spent my time here fighting against worthy opponents day in and day out, honing my technique and aura further as I beat the Horde into submission, securing my place as their leader's right hand for the time being.
When I had done so for the fourth time, one of my challengers demanded I explain why I would 'betray' my own kind, and so, as I battled them, I recounted my story.
How I was falsely accused, sent to rot in prison for the crime of doing my job as a General too well, only to be broken free when the country I loved so much became a shell of itself.
That my purpose now was to go and make those that did me wrong beg for forgiveness under my feet.
Somehow, such a tale managed to garner their respect even more, and it only took me a week to have them following my orders to the letter, much to Dura's amusement.
The War Chief herself rarely showed her face at the training fields, instead spending her time in her bedchambers, alternating between her slaves as she tried to quell her near insatiable lust.
As such, I was... having a rather tough time at night, since all I could hear and smell was sex.
Dura's prowess in bed was unquestionable, as the moans that reverberated through the portion of the castle we occupied were incredibly loud, and the scent of her thick cum permeated the air, threatening to impregnate me just by being close to where she spent her time breeding her slaves.
Somehow, none were pregnant, though it seemed that Dura had a soft spot for those that weren't... normal, or whole.
Many had defects they accrued as slaves to others, defects that rendered them infertile, while others simply weren't compatible with Orc semen - as rare as that was, considering just how universal it is, similar to Humans in that regard.
This was all to say that I was horny and wanting to have sex again, but I spent my free time instead practicing my control on my aura, furthering my personal strength.
Time passed by, and my need for sex diminished, though the amount of times I envisioned being dominated by Dura in her bedroom only increased in my dreams.
I was... rather embarrassed by that, especially whenever Dura was having sex openly in the common room we shared, swinging her hips as she deformed the wombs of her slaves with that miniature arm that hung between her legs.
Thankfully, before I could be caught masturbating furiously to her at night or some other kind of slip-up occurred, the Overlord gave her daughter her next set of orders.
We were to begin marching on the Verdant Forest, where we would meet a contingent of Dwarves that would provide us weapons and armor for our invasion of the normally peaceful territory of the Elves.
During my time getting to know and control the Horde, I was surprised to learn that Dura's mother - that pink skinned Orc that I met once before - had requisitioned a set of armor and a new sword to be made for me, forged by the Dwarven Forgemasters themselves.
The servant she sent said that I would need to represent her daughter well going forwards, since I was her War Maiden.
I... understood the underlying threat that was written onto the paper, smiling wryly as the more upfront way of saying 'Fuck up and you're dead' contrasting the various false trials and sentences that Kilkreatha and the Judges hid behind.
So, as we were sent out towards the border, I learned exactly why Dura had drowned herself in sex lately; we were going alone, just the two of us, since a slave would only provide a distraction to her on the front lines.
That meant that, initially, Dura's mood was sour as we marched, the mountain like Orc requiring I spar with her whenever night fell, beating me into the ground under the guise of training before pouring a healing elixir on me, bringing me back to normal.
The troops seemed to understand the difference between Dura and I, while also getting a grasp on the gap between themselves and Dura using me as a benchmark; if I beat you soundly, only to get smashed into the gravel in three blows, how well would you stand against Dura?
Not well.
Their respect for me grew once more, and I had to admit that such solid thrashings made me improve by leaps and bounds... even if I went from three blows to four, the improvement was there.
I grew faster and quicker to react to things, while my endurance rose rapidly; I no longer shattered my wrist when I tried to block her axe, for example, only cracking it.
Small steps... but a step nonetheless.
The longer Dura released her pent up energies through our spars, the more she mellowed out during the marches, no longer as fidgety and angry as before, which was a relief for the long, tedious hours spent walking or riding in the carriage.
Dura herself seemed to have grasped her desires swiftly as well, stamping down on the sexual innuendos and hungry gazes she sent my way in the beginning, which did neither of us any good.
It took us a week and a half to reach the border with the entire Horde, and along the way we encountered obvious Elven and Human spies that tried to hide amongst the populace of the small villages, which Dura allowed to live and send word back to their respective leaders so that they understood what was going to happen.
However, when we reached the area with the Dwarven contingent, she had the spies rooted out and executed, guaranteeing the secrecy of our armaments as best she could.
That was where I was introduced to my battle garb and new blades, and I could only smile wryly at the contrast from what I used to wear.
My former gear was white, green, and embroidered with golden insignia to denote rank and medals, fit to my body, light, and easy to move in.
The new gear was black and red, spiked, covered with miniature red carvings, but completely silent to move in, while my long black cape gave me a spectral appearance.
Additionally, the Dwarves offered me a black skull mask to wear over my face, hiding my identity from my enemies and adding to the harrowing visage of my new armor.
The blades were thin and curved, with such keen edges that the air sung as I swung them, and they felt like nothing in my hands, allowing me to wield them with incredible speed and precision.
With all my new equipment, the troops grinned at me as I left behind the more simple armor and sword I had been using and donned this new, darker armor and blades, fully embracing the Specter title they gave me.
Dura herself seemed rather impressed by my new gear, nodding to herself as she looked me over; I didn't realize it right away, but her eyes made my heart beat faster, and I desperately wanted to know if she approved of my new look.
"Fitting for my War Maiden. Mother chose well. Let's hope you can put it to good use, Elf."
Those simple words made me grin under the skull mask, my cheeks slightly red as I nodded, leaving Dura to go join the troops as I made sure the distribution of new equipment went well.