Chapter 2: Quest
James's POV
Dum!! Dum!! Dum!!
The heavy, rhythmic thud of monstrous footsteps vibrated through the mud behind us. I spun around to yell a warning, but the words caught in my throat. My brother was already airborne, his body twisting like a ragdoll.
"AAAArrrrrgh!!!!"
Panic seized me. I immediately triggered , one of the only two combat skills I had ever mastered. The phantom weight of the skill locked my shield in place, but the sheer kinetic force of the impact still rattled my bones, shoving me back at least eight paces before my boots caught purchase.
When the dust cleared, my breath hitched.
Standing over us was a two-meter-tall green beast. A thick, braided beard hung from its massive jaws, and blood trickled down its bald, scarred head. It was the exact same orc we had dismissed as an idiot just minutes ago.
Only now, the vacant stare was gone. Its eyes burned with a terrifying, razor-sharp intelligence, and a malicious, toothy grin split its face.
My mind screamed in pure terror. A single question hammered against my skull, though I didn't dare give it breath: HOW?! How is it moving like that?!
The beast ignored me entirely, turning its massive bulk toward the wailing Fred.
Dum! Dum! Dum!
"Grreeeuk...!!!"
A deep, guttural purr rumbled from the orc's chest—a sound of pure, sadistic excitement.
Vicious. Petty. Monster, the thoughts raced through my brain as the paralysis of the shock finally waned. Desperate to save my brother, I lunged forward, channeling every ounce of my stamina into a single shield bash.
The orc didn't even raise a weapon. He simply pivoted lightly on his heel, his massive frame shifting with an impossible, fluid grace that defied his size.
In the blink of an eye, the space in front of me was empty.
"!!!!"
He was behind me...
_______________
Torug's POV,
The strength of an orc was a terrifying, unimaginable thing. A single, focused swing of my fist was enough to turn a normal human into a bloodbath. James never stood a chance against the alarming vitality and raw muscle of my new body.
CRACK!!!
In an instant, my entire upper frame was bathed in a hot spray of crimson as my fist completely crushed his skull into the dirt.
My breathing grew heavier, ragged and deep. There was no denying it now—I was rapidly falling under the primal influence of becoming a monster.
Glancing down at the wailing buffoon, Fred, I lost any lingering urge to toy with him. I reached down, casually ripped his arms from their sockets, and broke his neck with a cold, swift twist.
Instantly, the frantic patter of hurried footsteps echoed from the treeline not too far away.
"We're retreating!"
"Retreat!"
"We have the lady!!!"
"Release the signal!" a gruff voice barked.
A pale blue flare shot into the sky, tearing through the smoke.
SCREEEEEE!!! SCREEEEEE!
What followed left me completely dumbfounded. High above, the clouds parted. A meteor strike?!
The remaining humans trapped on the frontlines let out blood-curdling screams as liquid fire began to rain from the heavens.
"AHHHHHHK! ! AHHHK ! ! !"
"Retreat!! The mages released the spell!"
The panicked footsteps were rapidly cutting through the brush, heading directly toward my position.
'It's probably better if I hide', I thought, slipping back into the dense treeline. I leaned against a thick trunk, forcing my lungs to calm down. But as the fleeing squad sprinted past my hiding spot, a man clad in unadorned silver armor and dark leather abruptly halted his steps. He stiffened, his eyes scanning the foliage as if he had detected a shadow.
The rest of the squad ground to a halt behind him. "Is there a problem, Lord Jethro?"
In the distance, the battlefield continued to tear itself apart.
BOOOM!! BOOM!! BOOM!!
"You guys go on ahead," the man called Jethro ordered calmly.
He didn't look back at his men. His eyes were locked onto the mutilated corpses of the Moongret brothers, before shifting directly toward the brush where I crouched.
Suddenly, a sharp, metallic ring resonated inside my head.
[Ding! Evolution quest has been obtained.]
[Quest: Defeat Knight Jethro (0/1)
Reward: Evolution, New Title, and One Random Reward.]
Hearing the digital voice, a grim laugh bubbled up in my chest. To evolve into a First-Circle being, I have to beat one? Fair enough.
I slowly stepped out from behind the tree, abandoning the shadows. The moment my boots hit the open dirt, an oppressive, suffocating weight slammed into my chest. It was a physical pressure far greater than anything I had felt from the Chieftain, Olog.
I focused my eyes, and a deep blue screen flared to life over his head.
Name: Jethro Moongret
Level: 14 (First Circle Order)
Power Rating: 3460 (+300)
Yikes... So this is what those old VR games called level suppression.
My mind lingered on his surname. Moongret.
While I was putting the pieces together, Jethro finally spoke, his voice dripping with aristocratic disdain. "So, it was just a low-level orc. Well, I'd expect nothing else from such trash from the branch family... Haa. I guess I'm supposed to avenge them by killing you, or what would people say about me?"
The moment the words left his mouth, the crushing pressure around him spiked. He drew a polished longsword, the steel humming as he advanced.
Looking at his flawless stance, I tightened my fists.
Jethro lunged forward with frightening speed, his broadsword cutting a lethal arc through the air. I threw myself backward to create distance, but my limbs felt incredibly heavy, bogged down by his passive aura. Spotting James's discarded kite shield on the mud, I scooped it up without hesitation. My massive frame made me an incredibly easy target, and while my gang days had taught me to fight face-to-face with raw punches and kicks, I needed the steel plating for safety.
My blood was boiling, but my mind remained ice-cold.
CLANG!
I deflected his opening strike with the shield and surged forward to throw a heavy counter-punch, but Jethro simply glided backward, effortlessly evading the blow. He was toying with me.
"Interesting... You're quite smart," Jethro murmured, a faint smirk touching his lips. "You'd do well in the slave arenas. Or perhaps I'll take you to the mages. I'm sure Grandmaster Raph would enjoy studying what's inside that skull of yours."
The name Raph triggered a faint, distant spark in Torug's lingering memories, but I couldn't grasp the detail before Jethro struck again.
His sword pierced the air, moving so fast it left a blur of silver afterimages. He wasn't aiming for my vitals anymore; he was targeting my joints, trying to hamstring me so he could take me alive.
Leaning into my old street-fighting instincts, I pushed my body's speed to its absolute limit. I slammed the heavy kite shield downward with raw, brute force, attempting to pin his blade against the earth. Back in my gang days, I had dealt with rival enforcers wielding katanas and machetes. The rule was always the same: neutralize the weapon first.
All the fancy swordsmanship and training in the world meant nothing if your blade was stuck under a hundred pounds of iron.
Sensing the trap, Jethro fluidly shifted his weight, trying to alter the trajectory of his blade before it was pinned.
Predicting the move, I completely abandoned the shield. I lunged inside his guard, my massive green hand snapping out like a vice toward his throat. Jethro's eyes widened slightly as he realized my intent, and he rapidly retreated three paces to reset. Anticipating his counter, I threw myself into a tight defensive posture, guarding my vitals in case he launched a fierce reprisal.
He did. With blinding speed, his blade flashed out, slicing deep, clean gashes across my forearms.
'Hahaha... When was the last time I had this kind of fun?' I mused internally with a laugh, staring intently at his micro-movements. 'Ah, I must be making that hideous expression again.'
Back on Earth, I had an older brother who used to scold me for that exact look—the twisted, manic grin I got whenever a fight turned deadly.
The dance of death continued. Jethro swung his sword with emotionless, mechanical precision, while I desperately cycled through different forms of street brawling, barely keeping his blade from my throat.
Grrrrrr!!
"Let's end this," Jethro said coldly, glancing briefly toward the retreating human forces in the distance.
He raised his sword high. Suddenly, a mysterious, glowing force enveloped the steel, hummed with terrifying power.
He slashed downward with furious velocity. Knowing I couldn't dodge, I made a split-second gamble. I threw my left arm up at an odd, desperate angle, praying the thick, dense bones of my orc physiology would be strong enough to stop the blade for just a fraction of a second.
THWAARK!
The enchanted blade bit incredibly deep into my arm, shattering the bone, but it halted. It was a massive gamble, but it paid off. Jethro had underestimated me, never expecting a creature to deliberately use its own skeleton to trap a sword.
Opportunity!
A cruel, blood-drenched smile split my face. I lunged forward, opened my jaws wide, and bit down with everything I had onto the exposed side of his neck where the leather armor met his collarbone.
If I didn't end it right here, this monstrous body would bleed out.
"Uuuugh!"
Jethro stifled a scream of pure agony. He completely abandoned the hilt of his trapped sword, his fists hammering into my torso and his boots shattering my shins. He pulled a concealed dagger from his belt, driving it repeatedly into my chest.
I ignored the stabs and bit deeper, sinking my tusks into his flesh, using my remaining good arm to crush his shoulder and force him down to his knees.
He kept stabbing, the silver blade plunging into my upper body over and over. It had become a horrific test of endurance, a race to see who would die faster. But experiencing the blind, desperate panic radiating from a proud knight's body was pure, intoxicating ecstasy.
My heart hammered against my ribs like a war drum.
Jethro drove the dagger deep into my thigh, forcing me down onto one knee, but I used the momentum to drag him down into the mud with me. 'Why wasn't he dying?! Is it because he's a First Circle Order knight? This vitality is abnormal!'
Finally, I felt his frantic stabbing grow sluggish. His strength was hemorrhaging into the dirt.
Gathering the very last remnants of my strength, I clamped my jaws shut and ripped backward with a deafening, sickening crunch.
CRACK!!!
Jethro's entire body gave one violent, final tremor, and then went completely limp in my grasp.
[Ding!!! Quest Completed.]
As the sound of the shattered vertebrae echoed in my ears, the digital notification confirmed the kill.
Damn it...
The adrenaline instantly washed out of my system, replaced by a searing, white-hot agony that bloomed across my chest. The burning sensation rapidly spread through my veins, consuming my entire body from the inside out.
As my consciousness began to blur and fade into darkness, the sheer, unimaginable scale of the pain was the last thing I felt.