Morning sunlight slowly spilled across the forest, painting the trees in a warm golden glow. Light rays shined through the leaves above, dancing on the ground like sparkles. Dew clung to grass and flowers, shimmering in the soft breeze. Birds chirped peacefully in the distance — it was calm, beautiful, almost like a dream.
Then—
Peck! Peck!
Something poked Rikuya's cheek.
His eyebrow twitched.
Peck!
He slowly opened one eye. Sitting on his chest was a small, colorful bird with shiny feathers — bright blue, green, and a splash of red on its head. It stared at him with curious little eyes and gave him another sharp peck.
"Ugh..." Rikuya groaned, still half asleep.
Peck!
Without fully waking up, he raised his hand and smack! — slapped the bird off like it was an annoying bug.
Feathers flew into the air.
He sat up, hair messy, eyes still heavy. He looked down at the dizzy bird flopping on the ground.
"...What kind of bird wakes people up like that?"
The bird let out one last angry chirp before wobbling away into the bushes.
Rikuya stretched his arms and yawned. "Well… good morning, I guess."
Rikuya stood up fully, letting the last bits of sleep fall away. The air was crisp, fresh with the scent of dew and earth. He tilted his head side to side, letting out a few soft cracks from his neck.
"Time to move," he muttered.
He raised his arms slowly above his head, fingers interlocking as he stretched tall, his back arching slightly. The muscles in his torso tensed and flexed, veins showing faintly under his skin. He held the stretch, then leaned side to side, loosening up his core. His joints popped gently — satisfying, like the body was waking up alongside him.
He bent down, touching his toes with ease, his hamstrings pulling tight. Then up again, rolling his shoulders one by one, each movement smooth and practiced. He swung his arms in wide circles, forward, then backward, picking up speed.
His breath deepened. His body was already alive.
Without warning, he shifted into motion — a sharp jab with his left, then a quick cross from his right. His fists cut through the air, followed by an elbow swing and a spinning back kick. His movements were fast, clean, but controlled — like a dance of power and precision.
He stepped forward, ducked, then launched a high knee into the air as if striking an invisible opponent. The air whooshed with every hit.
One-two. Pivot. Elbow. Roundhouse.
He stopped, exhaled, and let his arms drop.
"Still sharp," he said with a smirk, the fire of battle already flickering behind his calm eyes.
As Rikuya rolled his shoulders and settled from his warm-up, a soft rustling came from the bushes a short distance away.
His body froze — not out of fear, but focus.
The leaves trembled again.
He turned his head slowly, eyes narrowing as he locked onto the movement. Whatever it was, it was close. His senses sharpened.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Time for breakfast," he muttered.
In the blink of an eye, he dashed toward the sound, footsteps light but fast — like a shadow cutting through the morning light.
Rikuya's stomach growled loudly as he heard the rustling in the nearby bushes. His senses sharpened, and he quickly moved toward the sound, eager to find something edible.
As he pushed through the underbrush, what he saw made him stop dead in his tracks.
There, in the clearing, was a creature unlike anything he had ever seen. A pig-like orc, the size of a small cow, was standing there. Its skin was a sickly, muddy green, covered in patches of coarse, bristly hair. Its body was massive, almost bloated, with thick folds of flesh hanging around its stomach. Two huge tusks jutted from its lower jaw, and its small, beady eyes flicked around lazily, completely unaware of Rikuya's presence. The beast was munching on mushrooms, occasionally snorting in contentment.
Rikuya stood frozen for a moment, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.
"Is that… is that a pig or an orc that took the worst parts of both?" he muttered, stepping forward and getting a better look at the beast. "You're like if a wild boar and a garbage heap had a baby."
The orc-pig glanced at him briefly, snorted, and went back to eating. Its fur was tangled and unkempt, patches of dirt clinging to its body like it had been wallowing in mud for days.
"Ugh, you're disgusting," Rikuya continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You look like something that got left in the rain too long and now smells like rot."
He rubbed his chin, observing the pig-orc. "And those tusks? Not exactly intimidating when you've got the body of a swollen potato."
The pig-orc snorted again, oblivious to the insults being thrown at it, and waddled a few steps closer.
Rikuya let out an exasperated sigh. "I came here to eat, not to stare at a walking disaster."
Suddenly, as if on cue, the pig-orc let out an earth-shattering fart, so loud and rank that it seemed to vibrate the air itself.
Rikuya froze. The smell hit him like a punch to the face, worse than any battlefield stench he had ever encountered. He blinked rapidly, trying to fight the urge to gag. His stomach growled again, but this time, it was more out of frustration than hunger.
"That's it," he muttered, his voice low and furious. "You ruined my morning."
Without a second thought, Rikuya turned on his heel, his body coiling like a spring. In a smooth, powerful motion, he whipped around and threw a straight left punch — not at the orc-pig, but at the air itself, as if to punch the stench right out of the atmosphere.
"You disgusting shit!"
The force of his punch cracked the air, his muscles tensing with raw power. He took a deep breath, letting his fist drop slowly to his side.
The pig-orc, still oblivious, kept snuffling around in the dirt, unaffected by the storm of irritation that had just passed through Rikuya.
With one last glance at the creature, Rikuya turned and began walking back into the forest.
"No way I'm eating anything from this cursed, farting monstrosity," he grumbled, rubbing his face in frustration. "I can't believe I almost considered it."
Rikuya, still grumbling to himself, started heading north through the forest, hoping to find something better than that pig-orc — or at least something that didn't smell like it had been marinating in its own filth for a week.
As he walked, his senses remained sharp, ever alert. The rustle of the trees, the chirps of distant birds, and the soft padding of his own footsteps were the only sounds filling the air.
Then, just ahead, he saw movement. A figure stepped into the clearing.
Rikuya halted, his eyes narrowing. The figure didn't seem to notice him at first, lost in their own thoughts, walking through the forest like they belonged there.
The figure was humanoid, but not quite human. A tall, elegant bunny-woman with long ears that twitched at every sound, a set of sharp eyes, and a body that could only be described as... well, appealing. Her features were striking, with an athletic build that made her toned muscles obvious, but it was her legs that really caught Rikuya's attention.
Her thighs were massive—the kind of muscle that could snap a man's spine if it got too close, and they were as sculpted as a warrior's. They flexed and rippled with each step, giving off an almost hypnotic rhythm.
Rikuya blinked, pausing for a second, not sure if he was impressed or just confused.
If this was some kind of wild woman, he had to admit, she didn't fit the usual "wild and untamed" stereotype. This wasn't some soft, delicate creature of the forest. This woman was a powerhouse.
But before he could decide whether to approach or just keep walking, his lips parted and, without thinking, he spoke.
"If you're a woman," Rikuya muttered to himself, shaking his head with a dry chuckle, "I'm a god of combat."
The words slipped out before he could catch them, and he immediately cringed, realizing how it sounded. But honestly? He wasn't wrong. The muscle mass in her legs alone had him questioning how she walked without cracking the ground beneath her.
The bunny-woman didn't seem to notice him at all, continuing her path through the forest. But Rikuya couldn't help himself — his eyes lingered for a moment longer, thoroughly impressed, but still skeptical.
"Yeah, yeah… you can show off those thighs all you want," he muttered to himself, "but try running from me, and we'll see if you can keep up."
Rikuya took another step forward, still thinking about the bizarre encounter with the bunny-woman. He shook his head, muttering to himself, "What kind of world am I in, anyway?"
But before he could get any further, a rustling noise behind him broke his focus. Without warning, a blur of movement shot out from the trees.
A wild monkey — no, more like a hulking brute of a monkey — swung down from the branches, its muscular arms ready to strike. It was fast, with a ferocious growl that reverberated through the air.
Rikuya's reflexes kicked in instantly.
Without even turning fully around, he twisted his body to the side, his legs coiling like a spring before effortlessly dodging the monkey's powerful punch. The attack sailed past him, the wind rushing by as he leaned just out of the way.
The monkey screeched in frustration, its massive fist missing its target by mere inches. It landed on the ground with a thud, then turned to face Rikuya, baring its teeth, clearly undeterred by the missed attack.
Rikuya smirked, standing tall as he glanced over his shoulder.
"Is that supposed to be some kind of challenge?" he said, his tone amused as he eyed the monkey. "You're about as fast as a drunken brawler."
The monkey growled again, clearly pissed, and lunged forward once more.
But Rikuya didn't even flinch. He remained relaxed, watching the monkey's every movement.
The monkey snarled and launched itself at Rikuya again, fists swinging wildly with brute force. But Rikuya didn't move a muscle from his relaxed stance—he simply shifted his weight, pivoting smoothly on his heels, dodging each strike like it was nothing more than a lazy breeze brushing past him.
One swipe missed his cheek by a hair. Another swung wide past his side. A downward punch struck only empty air where his head had been a blink ago.
His arms stayed folded across his chest the entire time, his expression calm — almost bored.
The monkey's fury grew with each failed attempt, its movements becoming more desperate, erratic. It let out a frustrated screech, pounding its fists into the dirt before charging again with even more aggression.
Still, Rikuya didn't budge.
He took a slow breath, sidestepping another attack with ease, then muttered under his breath, "You swing like a toddler throwing a tantrum. C'mon… is that all you've got?"
The monkey shrieked louder, its rage boiling over. But no matter how hard it tried, Rikuya moved like flowing water — untouchable, unbothered, untouchably smooth.
The monkey, now fully blinded by rage, lunged forward with another wild swing — a punch aimed straight at Rikuya's jaw.
But in that split second, Rikuya moved.
Effortless.
Precise.
He sidestepped the blow, his eyes sharp with calm focus. As the monkey's fist whooshed past him, Rikuya's hand shot out and grabbed its long, swaying tail in mid-motion.
"Gotcha," he muttered.
With one smooth, brutal motion, he spun his body and slammed the monkey into the ground like a sack of potatoes. The forest floor cracked slightly under the impact, dust puffing up in a cloud. The monkey let out a shocked grunt, dazed from the sudden reversal.
Rikuya leaned over, peering down at the stunned beast with a slight smirk. He tilted his head and said coolly, "You came out the trees swinging like a boss… and ended up planted like a tree stump."
He straightened up, brushing off his hands with casual ease.
"You should've stayed in the branches, champ. You're better at throwing tantrums than punches."