"Stay put," Aaron said coldly, his voice echoing with supernatural authority as he hypnotized the orc chief. The compulsion took root immediately. Orcs were generally considered physically powerful but mentally vulnerable, especially when faced with psychic or magical influence—this, Aaron had learned through experience.
"Perfect," he grinned, eyes narrowing. "My own punching bag."
Without giving the orc chief a chance to react, Aaron slammed his fist into the creature’s abdomen. The impact sent the massive beast flying like a ragdoll.
"You don’t get to bail on me!" Aaron vanished and reappeared in midair behind the orc chief, delivering a crushing roundhouse kick that reversed the orc’s flight path. The beast slammed into the ground, creating a crater from the sheer force.
What followed was brutal. Aaron went to work without mercy, inflicting overwhelming pain. He ripped the orc chief’s heart out again, only for the orc chief to regenerate , and then tore through his limbs one after another. He avoided the head, understanding that tampering with the brain might disrupt the mind compulsion prematurely.
"Now, wasn’t that refreshing?" Aaron sighed, brushing his fingers through his hair before stretching his hand out, summoning Excalibur from his inventory.
Alice watched from a distance, her expression conflicted. "I don’t think we can kill him. Maybe we should report this to the demigods."
"It’s fine, Alice," Aaron said, voice calm but resolute. "I got this."
In his grasp, Excalibur materialized—its blade humming with a cold, divine resonance. Even from a distance, the weapon emitted an oppressive aura that sent shivers down Alice’s spine. For the first time since her divine blessing, she felt threatened.
With one effortless swing, Aaron severed the orc chief’s head. The blade carved through the air silently, but the result was deafening: finality. The orc did not resurrect this time. The abyssal corruption did not interfere. It was over.
Aaron calmly walked to the body, retrieved the dungeon core, and crushed it in his hand. The phantom landscape of the dungeon began to collapse, vanishing into fading mist.
Alice stared, eyebrows drawn. "That sword. How did you get it?"
"Oh, this?" Aaron shrugged. "Long story. Let’s just say it’s a gift from my parents."
Her eyes narrowed. "That sword... I feel like it could bypass my domain."
Aaron immediately stepped closer, dropping his tone. "Dear Alice, don’t say things like that so casually. You never know who’s listening. You shouldn’t trust anyone."
Inside his mind, Aaron snapped at the system: "You stupid system, why didn’t you tell me that?!"
[You are the stupid one. You can’t expect me to spoon-feed you everything, lazy bum. Work for your answers.]
Aaron frowned. "So it’s true? It can bypass her domain?"
[Naturally. Do you even need to ask?]
He sighed. "Well yeah, it can, Alice. But no worries. If I had any ill intentions, I would’ve used it earlier—during our little clash."
[Host, you are so good at lying. You just got it and you’re bluffing like a pro.]
Aaron smirked mentally. She doesn’t need to know that, dimwit. She’s not my mom.
"How old even are you? Sometimes you sound like a literal child," he said inwardly.
[If they multiplied your age by billions, you still wouldn’t come close to mine.]
"Bragging about living that long and still being this dumb? Classic."
[I swear, you’ll draw a dud from the system rewards for an entire month!]
"Yeah, yeah. Boohoo. I’ll apologize later. Right now, let me enjoy this feeling of pissing you off."
Alice broke his thoughts. "I see... Thanks. But you really shouldn’t show that weapon to anyone else. It might attract unwanted enemies."
Aaron chuckled. "Unwanted enemies? I already have a whole queue of them. Anyone new can just join the line. Let’s go. I’ve got questions for the Blind Seer."
He sheathed Excalibur back into his inventory space. Alice blinked, puzzled. The sword didn’t vanish with a spatial ripple or flash of light. It simply disappeared—quietly, like magic too smooth for its own good.
Just who exactly are you, Aaron? she wondered.
Nathan met them at the outskirts. "You’re back. I trust it went well?"
Aaron rolled his eyes. "Don’t ask questions you already know the answer to. It won’t make you seem normal. Not that any of us are. That reminds me—if none of you were going to fight, you could’ve just stayed in the car."
"Right?" Ryder exclaimed. "I told them I should’ve stayed there!"
Nathan calmly interjected. "Actually, staying inside the orc town prevented them from launching a surprise attack."
Aaron blinked. "They? So, what—you’re saying we’ve got two back-to-back fights before even getting to Ragnarok? Seriously? I thought I was traveling with people blessed by the universe. Why does it feel like we’re cursed instead?"
"Consider it training," Nathan laughed.
"Easy for you to say. You’re not the one getting tossed around like a chew toy."
Nathan just smiled. "Neither Alice nor I need to worry about that. With the universe’s blessing, we’re beyond such things."
Aaron scowled. "Yeah, yeah. Rub it in, Mr. Universe-favorite. Where are the enemies anyway? I can’t sense anything."
He stepped forward boldly. What’s the point of being the main character if you don’t take risks now and then? As long as his life wasn’t in danger and there was always a backup plan, he was willing to gamble.
"Be careful," Nathan warned. "They’re abyss creatures. You can’t kill them without holy mana."
Aaron turned slowly, eyes narrowing. "Abyss, huh? Thought you said they never leave their territories. Feels like something’s changed."
"Yeah," Nathan nodded, serious now. "We’ll need to update our knowledge. That’s old intel."
"Classic," Aaron muttered, pulling Excalibur out again—but this time, the sword shimmered with a muted glow. He’d cloaked its identity using the Phantom Mask. No need to flaunt power and draw enemies like moths to a flame. Sure, he liked a good fight—but making unnecessary enemies? That wasn’t really his thing.
"Alright, let’s do this," Aaron said, voice echoing with confidence.
He stood in the open and called out, "Come out, come out, wherever you are!"
"System, why can’t I sense them? Are my senses broken?"
Aaron gritted his teeth. "Bastard. Now’s not the time to be petty!"
He groaned. "Fine. Just tell me you don’t know the answer, and I won’t bug you anymore."
[You can’t sense them because they’re abyssal creatures. They emit no smell, blend perfectly with their surroundings, and their movements resonate at the same frequency as the environment. Your nose and ears are useless. So yes—I’m fully aware.]
Aaron grinned. "See? You were so easy to bait. Proved my point. You really are stupid!"