On the front side of the Orc village, Gleam smashed through the defenses like a living battering ram. His crystalline body shimmered under the sun as he tore through Orcs and Hobgoblins alike—spikes ripping through armor, limbs, and crude wooden structures with terrifying ease.
Behind it, Bellio hovered steadily in the air, waves of streaming water reinforcing Gleam's already formidable defenses—wrapping him in layered currents like a watery net.
The Orc Warriors and Hob Riders scrambled to respond, drawn like moths to the chaos exploding in their midst. The war horn had already sounded, its deep, bone-shaking blast echoing across the village and rousing every monster in earshot. Huts were abandoned. Gates swung open. Reinforcements poured in from all directions, snarling and armed.
And that was exactly what Alex had been waiting for.
Using
He moved like a shadow with fangs.
His obsidian dagger flashed in tight, fluid arcs—each slash paired with bursts of spell fire.
He surged forward, impaling two Orc Warriors in a single, brutal motion. Before their bodies even hit the ground, he'd already slipped past a third—his blade slicing clean through its side.
Snarls and curses broke out in confusion as monsters turned—only to see one of their own fall, then another. A heartbeat later,
Panic spread as one moment they'd been charging the front lines.
The next, they were being slaughtered from the rear by something they hadn't even seen coming.
They turned, roared, and attacked—swinging wildly, driven by instinct. Hob Riders charged in on massive Berserker Boars, spears raised, teeth bared.
But Alex was already gone—dodging, blinking, sliding between them like smoke.
A mace slammed into the dirt where his head had been a moment ago. He ducked low, pivoted, and rammed his blade up into the ribs of his attacker—then, without looking, casted
Through it all, Alex never stopped moving.
And he never stopped smiling.
His every step left behind a trail of blood and bodies. His battle intent burned like a furnace, and he walked through the heart of the chaos—loving every second of it.
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While Alex unleashed chaos behind enemy lines, drawing most of the enemy's attention, the frontlines were held by two very different forces—one made of crystal, the other a floating blue whale.
After advancing to B-rank, Gleam hadn't just grown stronger—he had changed.
He could still shift his size at will, but now he could grow nearly twice as large as before. More importantly, he'd gained the ability to morph his limbs, reshaping them for different types of attacks. His defenses were sturdier than ever—like a walking fortress made of living crystal.
Under Alex's command, Gleam had learned several new moves—and now, he was putting them to use with devastating effect.
He curled into a sphere, his outer shell erupting with jagged, spinning spikes—and launched forward like a cannonball. The ground cracked beneath him. Monsters screamed and scattered, but not fast enough.
Then came the Pulverizing Slam. Gleam uncurled mid-air and crashed into the earth with full force, unleashing a shockwave that ripped through the ground in a wide radius, hurling monsters in every direction.
And he wasn't done.
His forearms shifted, splitting and reshaping into curved blades that gleamed like polished crystal. He spun in place—an improvised tornado of slicing glass—cutting straight through a cluster of Hob Riders trying to flank him.
Alex jokingly thought that training Gleam felt like raising a Pokémon. Watching him now, it wasn't hard to see why.
Hovering behind him, Bellio played his part.
The plush blue whale floated calmly over the chaos, releasing waves of support magic—shimmering shields, buffs, and the occasional jet of high-pressure water that blasted hidden Hobgoblin archers from behind their cover.
Farther back, Sherry crouched behind a jagged outcrop, her hands glowing faintly as she fed mana into her summons. From her position, she maintained full control—guiding them through telepathic commands, issuing adjustments, repositioning them when needed, and occasionally sending out surges of mana to buff them.
Her heart pounded. Every shriek and roar from the battlefield made her flinch.
But she held her ground.
Because Alex was out there too.
And if he could stand in the middle of that chaos, smiling, tearing through monsters like it was second nature—then the least she could do was stay steady and keep up her end.
Still… whenever she glimpsed him between the bodies and smoke, her eyes lingered, heart tightening with awe and fear.
He moved like a force of nature—darting through monsters, blade flashing, spells erupting one after another. A storm in human form.
And for just a second, Sherry forgot about her fear.
Because they were actually doing the impossible.
They were actually holding the line. Not just barely surviving—but winning.
She wasn't alone anymore. And that changed everything.
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Back on the other side of the battlefield, Alex ducked under a jagged machete swing, vaulted over an Orc Warrior, and rammed his obsidian dagger into another's throat. Thick, dark-green blood sprayed as the body collapsed.
He was enjoying himself far too much—until he felt danger, real danger.
Several towering figures emerged, hulking brutes wrapped in jagged, blackened plate armor. Their tusks curled forward like hooked blades, and their eyes burned red with fury.
Alex's grin faded slightly.
"Well. That escalated."
He'd fought an Orc Champion before—killed it. But this was different. Not a single one of them but several, all at once.
Orc Champions weren't like the cannon fodder he'd been tearing through. These were battlefield commanders. B-rank elites who'd clawed their way up through blood and brutality. And unlike the frenzied mobs, these ones thought before they killed.
They fanned out, weapons raised—war axes, studded clubs, brutal maces—moving with practiced spacing to trap him.
Alex clicked his tongue. "
A ripple of warped space—and he blinked out, reappearing beyond their formation.
One of the Champions turned in time, swinging a mace at his head. Alex's dagger flicked out, parrying it just enough to redirect. He spun, narrowly avoiding a second strike that smashed the ground where he'd just been.
He countered—slashing across one Champion's flank—but the blade barely broke through. Their armor was thick. Their stamina, worse.
Backing off, Alex raised his palm. "
The spell burst forth, but he felt it then—that familiar strain. His mana pool was dipping.
He was recovering mana, sure—but not fast enough to match how quickly he was casting. Especially not when he was flinging spells like confetti.
Still, he didn't panic.
With a thought, he activated the Soulessence Nexus Ring.
Stored mana surged into him, refilling his reserves in seconds. Sure, he could've used a mana potion—but even that would've taken too long. Right now, even a few seconds mattered.
"Better." he muttered, his smirk returning.
Now it was a real fight.
The Orc Champions didn't wait for him to refill. Three of them came in together this time—one swinging low, another coming down with an overhead smash, the third circling to cut off escape.
Alex ducked the first, blocked the second with
His dagger slipped into the joint between shoulder and chest armor—a solid hit, but not enough to drop it.
Before the others could react, he raised his hand.
"
Tendrils of black electricity lashed out in every direction, cracking through armor, staggering all three incoming Champions for a moment.
He didn't waste it.
The remaining four charged at him all at once. Alex didn't retreat—instead, he surged forward. He dropped low, slid between one of their legs, and flung a
The blast detonated beneath them, taking one Orc Champion down in a heap of scorched metal and ruptured flesh.
Alex exhaled. His lips curled into a sharper smile, eyes gleaming with fire.
"Let's dance." he muttered, dagger raised, as the remaining six closed in again.
Just as Alex prepared to finish off the six remaining Orc Champions, his body tensed.
His sixth sense screamed.
"Alex, MOVE! Something huge is coming—fast!" Aurora's voice rang sharp in his mind, filled with urgency.
He reacted instantly—eyes narrowing as he began gathering mana to cast
But the Orc Champions moved.
Not to kill him—not yet—but to interrupt.
They surged forward together, weapons crashing down from all angles. His spell was interrupted midway, cut off before it could complete. He stumbled back, teeth clenched—barely deflecting a crushing blow.
'They're blocking my escape?!'
"Smart bastards." Alex hissed, trying to find a gap—but every angle was sealed shut.
And then—
It hit.