The One-Eyed Mad Dog
The Mad Wolf Luga-lac was lord of the flooded woods, but to a player it was nothing more than a rabid mutt.
It dashed around like a maniac, trading hit for hit, a skittish mob that made landing blows a genuine pain — which was exactly why the nickname "mutt" had stuck. A monster that picked a fight the moment your eyes met on the road, as if it had been designed to reflect modern society.
But a One-Eyed Luga-lac was different.
Per the lore, it was a veteran raised on endless fights, so its patterns were nothing like a regular Luga-lac's. If the base species was a street thug who charged in on pure toughness without knowing how to fight, the One-Eyed Luga-lac was a boxer who freely beat up civilians. Its signature dirty, merciless combo patterns had gotten Hunter Land some heat for a while.
Of course, to a veteran player, even the One-Eyed was no different from a common street punk.
I managed to guard against its charge pattern and counterattacked, so it turned away as if hurt. But that was a bait pattern — feigning a breather to lure you into dropping your guard. After exhaling, it would hesitate, then swipe its claws forward on an off-beat.
Shhhk—!
I timed it and pulled my body back. The Luga-lac's claws sliced empty air. After the claw swipe, it planted its paws on the ground, spun its body once, and struck again with its tail. I rolled in the direction the tail was coming from and dodged. The tail swept under me.
All within expected range.
A Luga-lac hunt out of nowhere. There had been plenty of Luga-lac traces in this forest lately. Someone kept clawing the trees, and the sound had been driving me crazy — probably this one's handiwork. Until now I'd done my best to avoid running into it; it was bound to be a hassle. And yet here I was, running into it like this. Ridiculous.
Still, there was a silver lining — I'd finally met people. Though they were in pretty rough shape. They all looked exhausted, and none of them seemed about to help.
Right. It was the same in the game. Honestly, I hadn't expected anything. Hunter Land NPCs all talked like they'd help the player, then stood around watching from the back and forced you into solo play.
I gripped the greatsword's hilt tight. In this world, the only thing I could trust was my weapon — my greatsword. Better kill this mutt quick — no, hunt it — and then try talking to them.
We can communicate, right?
"I-I'm alive…"
The hunter whose gut had been pierced finally came to after emergency treatment. But no one paid him any mind. Everyone's eyes were locked on the fierce battle unfolding before them.
Noah's hand trembled on her shield. It wasn't from fear or dread of what was to come. The Luga-lac that had been toying with them mere minutes ago couldn't even get its bearings against a woman whose identity they didn't know.
Her tattered clothes were being shredded by claws, more and more pale bare skin showing through, but none of that registered. The movements she displayed bordered on the divine. It was as if she saw through everything the Luga-lac would do next. And the woman clung on relentlessly, heavy greatsword in hand. Against a monster trading blows at blistering speed, she was the one forcing an in-fight.
Cold sweat ran from Noah's trembling hand. This was excitement — the thrill of witnessing a hunter beyond belief. She swung her greatsword with no regard for her own wounds, solely to kill the enemy. Who else could wield a greatsword — could hunt — like that?
Noah wasn't the only one feeling this. All four hunters watching from that spot shared the same thought. They couldn't insert themselves into that fight. The fear that any attempt to help would only get in the way kept every one of them frozen.
"Incredible…"
Someone said what Noah wanted to say. The skill on display was terrifying. Among the hunters Noah knew, not a single one fought like that. None of them could.
In her memory, greatswords were nothing more than weapons you used to repeatedly bring down heavy overhead strikes, leveraging their unique weight. There was a saying among hunters: if you gathered the power to swing a greatsword and then, in an instant, spread that force through your whole body and crashed into the enemy, you wouldn't budge no matter what attack hit you. But that was just theory. In the end, taking damage from an attack was the same either way. And having the focus to pull that off in a desperate situation was another matter entirely.
Even the Hunter Association recommended just using the weight to hit and run. For hunters with only one life, hit-and-run was far more stable. Charging in like your life was worthless was no different from trying to kill yourself.
But that woman — that hunter — shattered those prejudices. She pressed an aggressive offense without caring whether wounds marked her body. Blood sprayed, wounds split open, and she paid it no mind. Until she killed the monster before her, she would never stop.
Berserker. A word that suited her perfectly.
She didn't fall to the Luga-lac's attacks — instead she leaned into them, blocking with her greatsword. Claws that grazed her tore skin unprotected by any armor, but she never went down. If anything, she used the wounds as fuel and moved even faster. She stood before them like a wall, protecting them. That fortress-like stance was driving the Luga-lac onto the defensive.
"Hup!"
The white beast with soft pink glowing eyes and the black wolf with blazing red eyes collided once more. But the Luga-lac's attack cut only empty air. The greatsword carved through the Luga-lac's body without mercy.
The hunters no longer feared the creature's cries. Because the roar from the Luga-lac's maw was thick with the despair of impending death.
The greatsword was a weapon that meant a lot to me in many ways. My first weapon — the one that got me hooked on Hunter Land. It didn't have any particularly flashy attacks, but I loved that signature heavy hit. Every big swing made me feel like I was truly facing a monster.
Heavy attacks were the greatsword's defining trait. The fastest way to attack was just the simple hit-a-few-times-and-back-off loop, but honestly, you could do that with any weapon. It was easy even for beginners, but monotonous and boring. So what you used instead was the guard technique — parrying.
I saw the Luga-lac's claw thrust coming and raised my greatsword.
Krrrang—!
The claws scraped cleanly across the flat of the greatsword and skidded aside in a shower of sparks. The Luga-lac's body lurched forward. I smashed into it.
Parrying existed in any number of games, but the idea of redirecting an opponent's attack flow at the exact right timing was a truly fantastical technique. Being able to use it with a greatsword was a blessing, if nothing else. When I first gripped the greatsword, the unfamiliar weight threw me for a moment, but learning how to use it came quickly. In my head, I could already see how to break through this situation — and my body had the specs to put it into action exactly as planned.
"Hup!"
It howled, wracked with pain. Of course, I wasn't in one piece either.
"Hah… hah…"
Without a scrap of armor, even a grazing claw felt like it was peeling my skin right off. This was my first time fighting a high-level monster. No matter how much I offset and dodged attacks, without any armor my body was a wreck from head to toe. My already-shredded clothes were in even worse shape thanks to the Luga-lac, one breath away from falling off entirely. If these come off I'm naked — fighting like this. Kind of a veteran-player move, isn't it? All because I pushed myself trying to solo with no gear.
Parrying was a good technique, sure, but the little scrapes that came with a brawl like this were unavoidable. But seriously, nobody's helping. That's just cold.
Time to end this.
The Luga-lac whimpered and twitched on the ground. Not that it was going to take the hit quietly — it thrashed around trying to avoid it. Groggy state. Its leg hide was torn and its claws were shattered. When something took a shock big enough to nearly knock it out, it would thrash like that for a moment. Same as a person in extreme pain, gasping and unable to move properly. It wouldn't be able to move for a bit like this.
And the greatsword was perfect for dumping stupid amounts of damage in moments like this. Even the greatsword's basic attack combos were simple. Swings were just pokes — keep-away tools. You threw out little jabs while reading the monster's patterns. Plenty of follow-ups, of course. The real joy of the greatsword was the heavy attacks that branched off mid-combo.
Each stance had a different name. A downward strike from above was True Charged Slash, a horizontal cut was Execution, and the big upward circle from below was Full Moon Slash.
I stomped the ground hard and set my stance. Bent my legs, twisted my body. The Luga-lac still hadn't recovered. I gathered power through my whole body and swung wide before light could return to the Luga-lac's eyes. If the enemy can't move and I can attack, there's only one answer.
I unleashed all that carefully gathered power into the greatsword in a single burst. Gripping the hilt tight, I spun it in a great circle from below to above. The greatsword's edge scraped the earth. Then it rose and smashed into the Luga-lac's jaw.
Full Moon Slash.
KRAAANG—!
What a satisfying hit! Shards of teeth went flying. Immense satisfaction and pleasure wrapped around my body. Landing one big, clean swing square on a monster's jaw always cleared my head right out. Doing with my own hands what I'd only ever done with keyboard and mouse made it hit even harder. Trading blows with a monster like this, body to body — my heart was racing.
At the same time, that massive body, those fangs and claws, were still scary. …Kind of funny to say that after I've already smashed them all to pieces, though. Still, the thrill won out.
Yeah. I really do love being a hunter.
The Luga-lac was completely out. Seeing it go limp after taking that hit to the lower jaw, it had to be dead. It ended quickly thanks to those hunters having worn it down some first. Honestly the One-Eyed Luga-lac was annoying and not my favorite, but doing it in real life was a pretty fun experience.
But getting soaked in blood was not fun. Mine mixed with the monster's, and the reek of iron was intense.
"Ugh…"
Maybe because the tension had left me — once the fight was over, the pain hit like I was dying. The wind made it worse. I bit my lip hard and endured it. I wanted to skin the corpse as a trophy, but I didn't have the tools. I did have a stone I'd sharpened for skinning so I could eat meat, but I'd left it in the cave.
But why isn't anyone saying anything?
I lifted my head and looked at the people. One lying injured, three standing there staring blankly. They were all looking at me, that much was clear.
"Uh, it's over."
"Ah, uh…"
"…Hello?"
Hello? Could you give me a proper answer, please? Can we seriously not communicate?