Three more to go... ugh. If normal orcs are this hard, I’d better be ten times more careful with higher ranks, he thought, breath ragged.
The remaining three did not break. If anything, they burned hotter, roaring as they charged.
Leon dragged himself upright and met them.
"Oooh, come on!!!" he snapped, frustration cracking through exhaustion. His hands trembled; sweat slicked the dagger’s grip; it almost slipped free.
I’m at my limit... I can’t hold this pace much longer.
They crashed into him like a wave.
Leon feinted left, then kicked off the sand and skimmed low under a sweeping axe, leaving a thin trail through the dust. He slashed a calf as he passed—shallow, but pain slowed even monsters.
He spun, brought his clawed gauntlet up to catch a descending blade—sparks screamed as steel met steel—then torqued his hips and drove the crystalline dagger along the seam of an orc’s ribs. Not deep enough. He retreated a step, lungs burning.
They pressed, relentless. He gave ground, then stole it back with a sudden burst, Mana Jet snapping him inside a guard. A short thrust. A twist. A hiss of pain.
They adapted, tightening their formation, trying to pen him in.
He went vertical—three meters up—forcing them to look skyward, to lose a beat, to misjudge distance. He dropped not on the closest one, but on the second, the angle they wouldn’t expect, the line their axes couldn’t guard without crossing each other’s arcs.
The dagger punched through collar and into the meat beneath. The orc roared, spun blind with pain, and smashed its axe into its ally’s shoulder. Bone cracked.
Leon hit the sand, rolled once, and surged back in before the mistake could close. One more step, one more breath, one more strike—his arm felt like iron and fire—then the point slid under the jaw and found the soft place.
The orc shuddered and fell.
They came like a storm, one overhand, one sweeping low, trying to scissor him. Leon vaulted, planted a foot on the low axe’s haft, and used it as a springboard to flip clear, the high blade howling beneath him. He landed crooked, ankle screaming, but stayed up.
He did. A cut to a wrist. A knuckle split. A backstep that became a stumble that he turned into a lunge. The sand dragged at his boots; the sun clawed at his lungs; his vision pulsed at the edges.
They were flags of pain: leg, ribs, shoulder, palm. He counted them and moved anyway.
The big one overcommitted—pride again—and Leon paid it back. He slid inside the arc, slammed his gauntlet into the orc’s chin to jack the head, and drove the crystalline blade up under the sternum. The resistance was awful; then it gave.
The orc collapsed with a wet grunt.
It hesitated—half a heartbeat, no more—then roared and charged, axes forgotten, hands reaching to tear.
Leon’s fingers almost dropped the dagger. He clenched until the leather bit, then met the rush with a last, ragged burst.
He didn’t try to be clever. He went straight ahead.
Two steps. A sidestep. A slice across the bicep. A knee to the gut. A short, mean stab under the ribs. The orc swung wild with a fist like a mallet; Leon’s head snapped sideways, stars bursting across his vision.
He snarled, ripped the dagger free, and carved a final line across the throat.
The last orc staggered, stared, and fell to its knees. It toppled forward into the sand and didn’t rise.
The stink of iron and dust.
Leon stood there swaying, chest heaving like a bellows, eyes fixed on nothing. The world narrowed and widened, then steadied. He let the dagger hang, point down, until his hand stopped shaking.
Some minutes later, a boy who looked to be seventeen lay sprawled on the scorching savannah sand, breathing hard. The heat pressed like a hand on his back, but he didn’t care.
Instead, a tired grin tugged at his lips.
I did it. I was able to survive
This was the most intense fight Leon had ever had.
He had been pushed to his very limits!
At some point, he truly thought that he would die here. These orcs lived up to their name of being tough animals.
Even the tricky and nimble goblins did not give him this much of a hard time.
Their strength, their defense... everything was at the peak of their level. The only things they lacked were intelligence, perception, and speed.
In fact, with strength alone, they could even rival beasts and monsters that were more than two levels higher than them!
After finally defeating these beasts, Leon felt a sense of achievement. He felt thrilled—excited!
Though the fight had been tough, Leon loved it.
He subconsciously started looking forward to more. He knew that the coming battles were only going to be tougher, but he did not care. He wanted to experience more thrilling fights one.
Lying on the hot, bare ground, he breathed heavily, a satisfied grin spreading across his face.
Despite being injured, with cuts and bruises all over him, he still felt thrilled. I am lucky those orcs did not break my bones with their axes. Even with my skills and everything else, I was barely able to defeat them.
He slowly stood up. Though injured, his wounds were not too severe, and he was sure he could manage.
Although he could drink the life-saving elixir to clear the injuries and return to peak strength, he did not dare do it.
The elixir was costly, and if not for the discount, he wouldn’t even have been able to buy it. He wanted to save it for later.
After standing up, he sighed to himself, looking around the savannah. Now, I finally have the peace I need to check all my notifications.
So, without wasting any time, he started checking them.
[Host has accumulated enough EXP]
Host’s Current Level: LVL 17
Five Stats Points have been added to each of the Host’s Stats!