In front of Luke, the forest felt alive and hostile. Orcs erged from every direction, crawling out of the shadows, from behind trees, and through the tall grass. A living trap, every pair of eyes locked on him, hungry for blood.
Among them, two stood out by sheer presence. Orc Captains, massive brutes clad in crude armor made from bone and tal.
"So what now, kid?" growled the lead captain, lifting a massive axe. "Gonna beg for your life? Cry, and I might make it quick."
Spears were raised. Archers drew their bows, arrows poised to strike. Luke responded the only way he knew how.
He pulled the kukris from his inventory. "Only feel tough with numbers, huh? How about a duel? Or are you too much of a coward for that?"
The captain laughed, spitting into the dirt. "Everyone here wants your head, runt. I'd be a shitty leader if I didn't let them enjoy the kill."
He barked the order.
"ATTACK!"
The spears ca first. Luke sprinted straight toward the captain, weaving and dodging with sharp, precise movents. Arrows sliced through the air around him. A battleaxe ca down hard, aiming for his skull.
But in the blink of an eye, Luke vanished in a swirl of black mist.
[Wraith Form]
The darkness passed through the captain, curled around his body, and behind him, Luke materialized in human form. The kukris slashed across the orc's back before he could even turn. His roar of pain echoed through the trees.
The second Orc Captain charged in, bellowing, raising a massive broadsword. But he never got the chance to swing. Charlie exploded out of Luke like a ghost, already wielding the Orc-Slayer Blade. The red weapon glead, pulsing with the enchantnt [Bonus Damage against Orcs], and clashed against the broadsword in a thunderous impact.
They collided, trading brutal blows. Steel slamd into steel, each clash shaking the forest floor beneath them.
Luke used Basic Dark Dash to reposition, his body lting into mist and reforming in the middle of a cluster of orcs. The cloud spread out, blinding them. By the ti he returned to human form, he was already spinning through the air, his blades dancing.
A vortex of death. Charlie was surrounded. A dozen orcs crashed onto her like a wave of claws and blades. Then lightning burst in every direction. Her Manticore breastplate flared with power. The orcs staggered back as she let out a silent scream and surged forward, activating [Whirlwind Strike].
Bodies flew.
Luke hurled his kukris. The blades split mid-air, embedding themselves into multiple enemies at once. He surged through the chaos, slicing throats and severing tendons, each movent deliberate and deadly.
The Orc Captain roared and slamd his axe into the ground. A shockwave tore through the earth, racing toward Luke.
He leapt high, his legs powered by the Aracna Leggings. While airborne, he spun and ca down hard, kukris crossing in a lethal strike. The captain raised his axe just in ti to block, but Luke had already pivoted into another slash.
Behind him, Charlie dashed forward and unleashed a [Heavy Strike].
The impact slamd into the captain's chest, sending him stumbling back. He countered with a brutal swing that smashed into her side. She flew, crashed, but twisted mid-air and rebounded, coming back even faster.
Her blade swept wide, cutting through the next wave of orcs.
The Orc Captain with the sword leapt high, spinning mid-air. His strike ca down hard toward Luke, who crossed his kukris at the last possible second to block. The force was so violent that the mud beneath Luke's feet gave way, sinking him ankle-deep, but he didn't fall.
A brutal kick followed, slamming him into a tree. Pain shot through his back, his spine vibrating with the impact. Then the second Orc Captain was already upon him, his axe swinging in a deadly arc aid to take Luke's head.
Luke activated Basic Dark Dash, vanishing just in ti. He slid past the orc's side, slashing clean across the creature's back as he passed. The first captain charged again, sword raised for another strike, but Luke dissolved into shadow just before the blade could hit. Inside the black fog, he reappeared behind the orc and struck. A slice across the ribs. Then a clean punch to the jaw.
The orc stumbled. Luke didn't give him ti to recover. He jumped, diving with both kukris, driving them deep into the orc's chest. Twisting mid-air, he kicked off the enemy's torso and followed up with a crushing punch to the stomach that sent the brute flying.
Their stats were high. This orc was as strong as Charlie.
His demonic perception scread. Luke flipped mid-air just in ti, narrowly dodging a cleaving axe swing from behind. He flipped again, using the motion to land a hard kick across the second captain's face, then hurled a kukri toward the other mid-spin.
Charlie followed next. She looked like a wild beast wrapped in the form of a warrior.
Her Iron Fist struck the captain square in the chest. The orc scread, staggering backward, but Charlie didn't stop. She drove her sword into his back, activating Spectral Charge. The blade pushed him, dragging through armor and flesh. The orc howled in pain.
Above them, Luke dropped like a shadow. His kukris spun in his hands. A clean slash. The head flew.
[You have slain Kuttrir, the Orc Captain - Lvl 22]
*Your class [Demonic Assassin] has reached Level 21! (Class Bonus Points Acquired)*
Charlie kept her montum, grabbing the dead captain's body and hurling it into the second. The collision knocked the orc backward. Luke dashed into the enemy's rear ranks, archers and foot soldiers.
His kukris carved through the air, duplicated. He moved like a blur. A slash. A spin. Several fell before realizing they were even under attack.
Across the battlefield, Captain Sarottar rose again, his axe glowing with fury. He roared and charged at Charlie.
The two clashed, blade against axe. Strike after strike. Sparks erupted with every impact. Then Sarottar grinned, locked her sword under his axe, and pulled back his fist.
The punch landed. A sickening crunch.
He shouted, "What the hell…?!"
It was like punching tal. Her bones weren't bones anymore.
"What the fuck are you made of?" he barked, recoiling.
Charlie responded by seizing his wrist and squeezing. Bones cracked under her grip. He swung his axe in desperation, but she dismissed her weapon into her inventory and caught the blade with her bare hand.
Pure strength.
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Her fist glowed, Iron Fist charged. Then the kick.
Sarottar flew backward. Before he could hit the ground, Charlie was already on top of him. One punch. Another. Teeth flew. Blood sprayed. He tried to rise, but she twisted back, summoned her sword, and struck like lightning.
Everything went dark for Sarottar. His head hit the earth, cleanly severed.
[Princess Charlie has slain Sarottar, Orc Captain - Lvl 24]
*The [Death Knight] class of Princess Charlie has reached Level 18! (Class Bonus Points Acquired)*
[An item has been added to your inventory]
Luke stood, breathing heavily, sweat dripping down his brow, mixing with orc blood and dust. The battlefield stank of blood and damp soil. The feral orcs had fled, scattered in blind panic like rats—but Luke knew better than to celebrate.
They'd return. In greater numbers. And with bloodlust.
He leaned against a nearby tree, feeling the adrenaline crash like a wave through his veins. Charlie stood beside him, still gripping her sword, eyes scanning the treeline—an unwavering sentinel.
Luke opened his system interface.
Na: Luke
Level: 10
Rank: F
Class: [Demonic Assassin (Lvl 21)]
Race: Half-Demon
Profession: -
Titles: [Dark Lord]
Bloodline: [Bloodline of the Dark Demon]
Health Points (HP): 906/990
Mana Points (MP): 468/630
Stamina: 513/540
Soul Fragnts: 28/1000
Stats:
Strength: 100
Agility: 100 (125)
Endurance: 34 (54)
Vitality: 99
Perception: 102
Intelligence: 63
Free Points: 3
Despite everything, he felt a flicker of pride. He rembered how it all started—low stats, barely able to take down a kobold. Now, his HP nearly touched a thousand.
He allocated the points quickly. Out here, every stat could an life or death.
Stats Updated:
Endurance: 34 (54) -> 35 (55)
Vitality: 99 -> 100
Intelligence: 63 -> 64
Free Points: 3 -> 0
Health Points (HP): 905/990 -> 915/1000
Mana Points (MP): 468/630 -> 478/640
With the upgrades complete, he scanned the area. The orcs had truly scattered. It was the perfect mont to check the item Charlie had picked up.
[Sarottar's Greaves, Orc Captain (Rare)
Description: Greaves forged from the armor and bones of Sarottar, an Orc Captain.
Bonus: 10 Strength
Requirent: Lvl 10 in any class or race.]
Luke paused to consider. His Aracna greaves still served well—the enhanced jumping was tactically useful. But Charlie was his frontline. She needed raw power. Without hesitation, he transferred the item. The new greaves equipped instantly, replacing the worn boarhide armor she'd worn until now.
He then opened Charlie's interface, ready to boost her stats as well.
Na: Princess Charlie
Level: 10
Rank: F
Class: [Death Knight (Lvl 18)]
Race: Skeleton
Titles: [Servant of the Dark Lord]
Health Points (HP): 607/650
Mana Points (MP): 360/360
Stamina: 789/820
Stats:
Strength: 74 (104)
Agility: 45
Endurance: 57 (82)
Vitality: 65
Perception: 30
Intelligence: 36
Free Points: 4
Luke distributed the points with the sa sharp focus—two to Strength, two to Vitality.
Stats Updated (Princess Charlie):
Strength: 74 (104) -> 76 (106)
Vitality: 65 -> 67
Free Points: 4 -> 0
Health Points (HP): 607/650 -> 627/670
He stood, eyes on the forest ahead. Beyond the trees, a river carved through the land like a serpent. The problem was simple—but cruel: he was deep inside enemy territory. Days tracking the Renegades had led him to a remote region so far off the map that the cliff he fell from was completely unscalable. The rocky walls were too sheer, offering no handholds, no paths back.
There was no other choice. Luke would have to follow the river's course for days, hoping to eventually find a slope gentle enough to escape the enemy forest.
"I have no idea where the hell I am..." he muttered.
Charlie walked beside him, her steps steady as ever, but even she seed tense. And with good reason. The orc army would soon start hunting him. Hundreds of savage warriors would scour this forest—a territory they knew like the back of their hands.
Luke knew that every step forward would be a spin of the roulette wheel. Turning back wasn't an option.
***
Paul strolled casually through the city square, greeting passersby with his usual warm smile. It was hard not to notice how respected he was—after all, he was the second-in-command at the Haven, known for lending a hand to everyone, even those outside his faction. He had donated food, shared water, even offered safe routes through the Wild Zone.
"Good afternoon, Paul," said one of Bartholow's soldiers as he passed.
"Good afternoon, my friend," Paul replied with kindness.
It was the sa with everyone. Even the king's n respected him, despite occasional friction. Paul knew how to maintain appearances. After checking the area, he crossed the street and entered a small, three-story building. The first two floors were occupied by families. The third... belonged to soone he knew.
He knocked quietly. The door opened without a word.
"You're late," soone said from inside.
As soon as he entered, Paul shut the door behind him. The smile vanished. His expression shifted—cold and sharp.
"You've been off the grid, Paul," one of the n inside said.
"Had to disappear for a while," he replied. "After the ss the Renegades stirred up, even the wrong look could've been fatal. But it's fine now. You got the chest?"
One of his associates erged from the other room, dragging a reinforced chest. When they opened it, the three shared a brief, silent look: healing potions, canned food, gold coins. Precious supplies.
"Teaming up with the Renegades turned out pretty profitable," one of them remarked with a grin.
"Those idiots actually think I'm a good informant," Paul said, letting out a quiet chuckle.
"Should we go back to looting the chests?" the other asked, visibly eager.
Paul rolled his eyes and sighed with irritation.
"You really want to start robbing again now? With Bartholow one breath away from a full-blown panic, doubling patrols? Use your brain. The chaos we stirred was enough. The Renegades only wanted instability—we were the ones who pushed them into the line of fire. Now Bartholow hunts them with everything he's got."
He slamd the chest shut.
"Keep feeding Bartholow's troop movents. I'll keep passing them to the Renegades," Paul said calmly.
"But... didn't you want them to kill each other off? Why keep helping?" one of the n asked.
"Because the longer this war drags on, the better for us," Paul replied, his eyes cold. "The more they bleed, the more room we have to operate."
Silence followed.
Then, a satisfied smirk curled his lips.
"Ever since I killed Marshall's son, that mutt's been unstable. A mad dog driven by revenge. Exactly how I wanted him."
Flashes of mory surged through his mind like lightning. Paul had killed the boy himself. And he hadn't stopped there — n on both sides had fallen by his hand, fueling the fire, stoking the hatred, keeping both factions too busy with each other while he spun his own web behind the scenes.
"Just a heads-up," he added. "I might go dark for a few days. I'm... let's say, working on becoming a committed man. That takes ti."
"Committed? You?" one of them scoffed.
"I'm serious," Paul said with a sly grin. "Things are going well. The woman's a knockout."
"For a guy like you, I guess it's not that hard."
"We all use the weapons we've got," Paul replied with a crooked smile. "I plan to take her to bed. Been a long ti since I've had that kind of pleasure in this world... Having a woman like her, just for ? That's hitting the jackpot."
His tone was far too calm. Too cold.
His gaze drifted out of focus for a second. Allison's image ca to him clear as day — and, as always, right behind her stood Luke.
The silent rage began to rise again.
"But first..." Paul murmured, his voice lower now, almost like he was talking to himself. "I need to remove a stone from my path."
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