"They're holding me here on purpose."
And then—
It hit.
A titanic blow slammed into Alex's side—too fast to dodge, too heavy to block.
He didn't even see it coming.
One moment, he was mid-strike—the next, something massive crashed into him like a living battering ram, launching him off his feet.
"
The barrier crumpled instantly, black shards exploding like broken glass as the force tore through his defenses. The force blasted him backward—straight through the remains of a collapsed hut. Wood exploded. Dust and stone kicked up in a violent spray.
He hit the ground hard—hard enough to leave a crater.
Pain tore through his ribs like fire.
"Fuck!" he gasped, blood spattering from his mouth. He curled inward from the pain, his vision dimming at the edges. Two ribs, maybe three—definitely broken.
Even with Aurora's warning—even knowing the Orc Champions were stalling him—he hadn't expected this.
This was a whole different level.
'No time to think.' Not when something that big was still coming.
He gritted his teeth, forced himself to one knee, and spat out blood. Then, without hesitation: "
He vanished and a hundred meters away, Alex reappeared, staggering but upright.
Behind him, the ground rumbled.
A deep, guttural growl rolled through the smoke. Not loud—but heavy. Like a landslide waiting to drop.
Then came the footsteps—slow, deliberate. Each one shaking the ground just a little more than the last.
Through the settling dust, a massive figure emerged. Alex turned, wiping the blood from his chin as the monster stepped fully into view.
It looked straight at him—eyes burning with cold, intelligent malice.
"The Orc Chieftain's here." he muttered.
It was big, yes—but that wasn't what made it dangerous.
It had hidden itself and patiently waited. It had timed its ambush perfectly—only charging in once Alex was boxed in by the six Champions. It had held back its presence, out of Aurora's detection range.
It had jumped again—slamming down exactly where Alex had landed. Now, it stood still, silent, watching him with grim calculation.
This wasn't just another monster.
It was smart. Dangerous. A predator that knew how to wait, how to strike, and how to use its soldiers like pawns.
Aurora emerged beside Alex in her spirit form, voice sharp in his mind. "Alex! Are you alright?"
He coughed and spat blood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Still breathing."
Her eyes flicked toward the looming figure cutting through the haze. Her expression darkened.
"You're lucky," she said grimly. "It's not an Orc Warlord. That would've been an A-rank."
Alex gave a dry laugh as he pushed himself upright. "That's your idea of lucky?"
Aurora floated closer, hovering by his shoulder. "The bad news? It's evolving. That thing's in the middle of a transition—it's already mutating toward becoming a half-ogre."
Alex's eyes narrowed.
The monster in front of him wasn't just bigger than the Orc Champions—it radiated power. A visceral dominance that made even these brutal monsters look small.
It wasn't bulky like those brutes—its frame was lean, honed, and packed with coiled muscle. Unlike the other Orcs, two short, jagged horns curled from its bald, gray-green skull—unmistakable signs of mutation. A long scar slashed down its face, running from forehead to jaw across its left eye, which glowed like a dying ember. The right one gleamed sharp and calculating.
Charred black bone armor clung to its chest and shoulders, inscribed with crude etchings. Blood-dyed cloth hung from its waist, fluttering with its movement. Glowing runes pulsed along its skin with every breath—tribal, primitive, yet laced with power.
Then there was its weapon.
Not even a real hammer—just a boulder. Jagged, cracked, embedded with rusted iron, dried blood, and what looked disturbingly like old flesh. One swing from that thing could split a stone wall.
The system hadn't given it a name—[Orc Chieftain]. But this was more than a title.
This thing was on the cusp of something else.
"Half-ogre?" Alex asked, eyes locked on the monster.
"Orc Warlords are basically half-ogres." Aurora said. "It's not quite there yet… but that one's evolving fast."
Alex exhaled slowly, ribs aching with every breath.
The strength behind that hit earlier… now it made sense. Even with
His fingers twitched around his dagger's hilt. "So this thing's just a step below A-rank?"
"Exactly," Aurora confirmed. "It's not there yet... but it's close. Evolving fast. Right now, it's a B+—but treat it like an A-rank monster. One mistake, and you're dead."
Alex tightened his grip on his dagger. "Noted."
The Orc Chieftain hefted the massive boulder onto one shoulder, resting it there with casual menace. Didn't roar. It just calmly observed him.
Its presence alone made the air feel heavier.
Alex's smirk returned—blood still on his lips, eyes sharp with excitement.
"This day just keeps getting better."
The Wilderness Combat Armor had absorbed most of the blow. If not for that, Alex would've been coughing up more than just blood—and dealing with more than a couple of cracked ribs.
Still, that hit had come way too close.
He couldn't afford to treat this like a game anymore.
The reckless thrill that had kept him grinning through earlier fights had drained away, replaced by a sharp-edged focus. He wasn't panicking—but he wasn't smiling either.
He pulled out two vials from his storage ring—one golden, one azure—and downed them in quick succession. A wave of healing heat spread through his chest, numbing the pain as torn muscle and bone began to knit back together. At the same time, mana surged into his core, refilling the reserves he'd burned through.
He exhaled slowly, wiping fresh blood from his lips.
'No more half-assing it.' That thing could flatten him if he made even one mistake.
He still had cards to play. If things went sideways, he had his trump. But he wasn't ready to use it—not yet.
Part of him, the reckless part, still wanted to see how far he could go without hitting the emergency button.
So instead of running, instead of launching a powerful long-range spell, Alex did something else.
He raised a hand, curling his fingers. And used Taunt skill on the Orc Chieftain.
"Come on then," he muttered, voice low, eyes narrowing. "Let's see what you've got."
The Chieftain bared its jagged teeth in a snarl. It didn't need a translator. It understood the gesture just fine.
With a thunderous roar, it charged—each footfall cracking the ground beneath it. Its makeshift hammer—more boulder than weapon—rose into the air, ready to crush him flat.
But just as it was about to reach him—Alex vanished.
He reappeared behind one of the remaining six Orc Champions—one of the brutes that had boxed him in earlier.
The monster barely had time to turn.
Alex's dagger struck first.
He swept the blade low, slicing clean through the back of its knee joint. The Champion howled, staggering forward.
Alex pivoted around it, ducked beneath a clumsy retaliatory swing, and drove his obsidian dagger into the base of the Champion's spine. The blade twisted once—precise, merciless.
The Orc dropped like a bag of rocks.
Alex didn't spare it a glance.
His focus was on the Orc Chieftain—who'd skidded to a stop mid-charge, red eyes narrowing as it realized what had just happened.
Alex's voice was calm, quiet, but laced with bite. "Don't worry. I didn't run."
He raised the blood-slick dagger and pointed it toward the monster. "I just changed dance partners for a second."
Alex moved like a storm cloud across the battlefield—fast, unpredictable, always just out of reach.
The Orc Chieftain was absurdly strong—and smart, too. But at the end of the day, it was still a monster. And monsters were easy to piss off. All it took was a little push, and rage did the rest.
Alex grinned as he activated Taunt again at it.
The effect was instant. The Orc Chieftain's bloodshot eyes locked onto him, rage boiling over.
It charged, boulder raised high—but its path wasn't clear. An Orc Champion, mid-motion, stepped directly into the Chieftain's line of attack.
The boulder connected with brutal force, smashing through the Orc Champion's torso. The body ragdolled across the field, landing in a heap of twisted limbs and cracked armor.
It didn't get back up.
Alex gave a low whistle. "Oops. Friendly fire."
The Chieftain snarled—not out of regret, but fury at the mockery.
Alex vanished again—
He wove through shadows, danced around strikes that missed him by inches, all while baiting the beast into collateral carnage.
It didn't take long.
Another Champion fell—slammed aside by the Chieftain's wild swing meant for Alex. Then another, caught in the crossfire during a reckless charge.
Alex didn't have to fight them directly anymore.
He just had to steer the rage.
One by one, the Orc Champions went down—cut down by Alex's blade or flattened by the wrath of their own boss, too blinded by fury to realize they were being used.
And finally, silence.
The last of them collapsed, lifeless.
Across the battlefield, the Orc Chieftain stood alone—veins bulging, chest heaving, hammer buried in the dirt, snarling like a cornered beast.
Alex stood calmly, dagger in hand, eyes fixed on the monster before him.
His voice was low, steady.
"Now it's just you and me."