Chapter 425: Welcome to the Land of Struggle
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 425: Welcome to the Land of Struggle
“Chieftain. It’ll be my turn, right?! Right?”
Mev was beside me, her face full of anticipation.
“Probably?”
The location Mev was assigned to, the [Black Rock Mountain Shelter], was the closest to my position, aside from the warrior barracks. That was why she was here watching the situation with me, unlike the others who were waiting anxiously in their own rooms for their turn to come.
In truth, I didn’t think it would ever be her turn. Unlike conventional dungeons where the difficulty gradually increases, I didn’t want Mev to face the enemy if I could help it. To be honest, the painful reality was that Mev’s combat abilities were a little lacking compared to the other clan executives. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust her, but I was worried she might end up calling for me with tears in her eyes. In reality, the enemy’s forces weren’t bad at all.
‘A decent priest…’
Among the raid parties that had come to conquer this place, a priest who could be considered quite high-level even by the standards of the Central Continent had caught my eye. Although Mev possessed a unique ability that delivered a decisive blow, I thought she might struggle, as that single blow was all she had.
The main problem was the location itself. It was a mine, not a wide-open plain, which made it difficult to use a bow. I found myself hoping the intruders wouldn’t make it as far as the shelter.
“Hehehe. I’ll show them the full power of the mistress of this glorious land!”
It was almost pitiful to see her burning with such enthusiasm, completely oblivious to the fact that her turn would likely never come.
“If the enemy does break through, I’m counting on you, Mev. I have high hopes for you.”
“O-Okay!!”
When I gently stroked her head, she clenched her cute little fists, looking quite adorable. I slowly turned my head to look at Elia. She nodded, and her unique ability, which instantly showed me the overall situation, was as useful as ever.
“First… Gark…”
My vision shifted, and I saw Gark confronting the raid party. I began to watch the situation unfold.
“I am Gark, Subleader of the Blood Dagger Clan.”
The Subleader, who held the undisputed position of the second-strongest warrior in the Blood Dagger Clan. The combat prowess of this Orc, who stood at the pinnacle of the elite Orc swordsmen, had long since surpassed that of ordinary chieftains. He had turned the disadvantage of a missing arm into his own unique style, a testament to his talent and perfect control over his wild instincts.
His eyes were calm and sunken, his body like a single, drawn sword, and his aura unabashedly proclaimed him a powerhouse. It was no wonder the enemies were flustered.
I hadn’t checked how much stronger he’d gotten recently, but even a quick glance told me he had grown more powerful than I could have imagined. If attacks came from all sides, it might be a tough fight even for Gark, but the narrow entrance, the limited attack zone—the terrain itself was incredibly advantageous for him.
“He looks tough…” Mev muttered beside me as she watched.
It was understandable she’d think that, since we had brought only the best of the best. But contrary to her thoughts, there was no chance they would make it past the first room.
*
“Shit.”
He wasn’t hiding his aura. Mark muttered as he stared at the one-armed Orc before him. He couldn’t even begin to fathom the Orc’s strength. He knew, of course, what the words coming from the creature’s mouth meant.
‘Subleader.’
He was clearly an Orc who held a very high position among his kind.
Only now did he begin to feel how absurd it was to try and conquer this place with so few people. At least one of the monsters holed up in this mine was stronger than this one. His legs were trembling just from making eye contact. He couldn’t believe there was an even greater monster than this.
This was a level of opponent that only the top three warriors on the continent could face—no, perhaps even stronger.
But the situation wasn’t entirely unfavorable. Their numbers were overwhelmingly superior. Though the area was narrow, it was still manageable for their forces—priests, mages, and those armed with firearms—to launch sequential attacks.
The warrior known as the Iron Wall was also being healed by a priest. Once his treatment was finished, he could join them here.
‘Stay calm. We can win this.’
“A-Attack!!”
It was then that someone, crushed by the Orc’s presence, let out a desperate scream.
‘Idiot!’
“Not yet!!”
But it was too late. Spells and bullets were already raining down on the Orc.
‘We have to play the long game.’
A meaningless attack would only give the enemy an opening. They had to drag this fight out, minimizing the consumption of the mages’ mana, the priests’ holy power, and the warriors’ stamina. But the arrow had already left the bow. Mark scowled, watching the barrage pour down on the Orc as he began to shout orders.
“Warriors, disrupt the monster’s movements as much as possible! The wounded fall back immediately! Ranged attackers, cover the warriors! Even a little is fine… just land a hit! Land a… a hit…”
As he screamed in a strained, desperate voice, an unbelievable sight unfolded before his eyes.
‘Fuck… is that even possible?’
A single sword. The one-armed Orc was deflecting or parrying every attack with just one sword. Now he understood why the Orc had taken no damage from the hail of magic and bullets they had unleashed just before entering this place.
He deflected a massive fire spell with his sword. The same went for the storm of bullets. He made a mockery of the term ‘firepower,’ weathering the assault as if it were nothing.
His sword hand was a blur. The only clue that the Orc was blocking the magic with his blade was the constant sight of attacks being deflected in odd directions.
“Yaaaaaaah!!”
Before the barrage had even ended, the warriors charged forward.
‘We have to surround him.’
The strategy for this place was to surround him in this narrow space and then unleash a simultaneous assault. It was the only way. The others, besides himself, seemed to realize this too. Watching the warriors rush out, Mark also began to channel mana into his feet.
“Decent humans.”
Cleaved in two.
One of the warriors, charging forward in heavy, crude armor, was split completely in half vertically. Blood and brain matter spilled onto the ground, but the charging warriors couldn’t stop. Countless buffs and protection spells were layered upon them, but not a single warrior here could withstand even one of his strikes.
“Aaaaargh!!!”
“Don’t let him move! Surround him! Surround him!!!”
“Aaaargh! My arm!!!”
“There’s only one of him! Only one… Aaaaargh!!!”
“Don’t stop the flow of holy power!!”
The wounds were fatal. The moment the priests conserved their holy power, a warrior’s life was extinguished. The mages and priests had to constantly expend their resources just to hold on.
‘Just a little more… just a little…’
Mark joined the throng of warriors, raising his shield and advancing. Severed arms and legs flew through the air, but he bit his lip and pushed his way through the crowd of humans.
‘He’s coming.’
After slicing off a warrior’s arm, the one-armed Orc looked his way. Mark reflexively thrust his sword. A thrust he had practiced tens of thousands of times. I can reach him. He’s looking to the side. He hasn’t noticed my attack.
‘The Iron Wall.’
The man who had been receiving treatment in the rear had joined the front line. The one-armed Orc was definitely looking at him, the one holding the massive shield.
‘Just a little more!’
It was at that exact moment that he felt a searing sensation in his stomach.
“Huh?”
“Uwaaaaaargh!!!”
“H-Help me!!”
“Wounded, fall back! The wounded, fall back!!”
He felt his body being dragged backward, against his will. A gurgling sound kept escaping his lips as blood spurted out. When he instinctively looked down, his eyes fell upon his own waist, which was nearly severed in two.
“Ah… Uwaaaaah…”
Realizing the unidentifiable scream was coming from his own mouth, Mark clutched at the wound, unable to recall when he had been cut.
“Don’t touch it. I’ll heal you.”
Priests were pouring holy power into him, but the pain didn’t subside. Mark bit his lip hard and looked toward the front line again. The warrior called the Iron Wall was rolling on the ground, his upper and lower body completely separated.
‘He’s dead.’
If the Iron Wall hadn’t charged in with him, that would have been him on the ground. The Orc must have judged him to be a novice. It was a situation that could only be described as lucky. Mark swallowed hard. The bodies were piling up. He could see some scratch-like wounds on the Orc’s body, but they were hardly what you could call damage. He was watching the overall situation while being treated when he noticed it.
“Sh… Shit…”
He hadn’t realized it until now because he had been at the front.
‘Why are we still in the same spot…’
They had all rushed forward, vying to be the first to surround the Orc. And yet, their forces hadn’t even made it past the entrance to the storage room. They hadn’t even managed to enter the wide cavern.
‘We’re on a different level.’
“Re… Retreat!”
“All… All forces, fall back.”
The men advancing to the front looked like moths flying into a flame. Mark swallowed hard and roared.
“Fall back!!”
The raid leader of the Beta Team was dead.
‘We can’t do this with our current strength.’
If someone hadn’t stopped them, all the warriors would have become corpses at this entrance before they even thought to flee.
“Shit! Shit!”
One by one, the humans began to grasp the situation and pull back. Warriors were grabbing the bodies of their fallen comrades and running for the exit, while the priests and mages moved according to their training manuals.
“Heal… Healing complete.”
The moment he heard the voice, Mark immediately rushed back to the front line. He had seen a female warrior collapse to the ground.
“Kyaaak!”
‘I can save her.’
Move as fast as possible. He felt something rising in his throat, likely due to his earlier wound, but he couldn’t stop. He poured as much mana as he could into his feet and shot forward. The Orc’s face was right in front of him. The moment he reached for the woman, who was flailing with a half-severed leg, he saw the sword coming.
With one arm, he pulled the woman’s hand, and with the other, he blocked the Orc’s attack. His sword would probably be shattered. The thought that he might lose an arm flashed through his mind, but looking at the creature before him, he started to think that it wouldn’t matter in his quest to become stronger.
He bit his lip hard against the sensation of his arm being instantly severed, but he couldn’t stop. More important than thinking about how to block the next attack was turning his back and running.
As he frantically turned, bracing for the next blow, what he saw was the Orc, standing still, his sword planted in the ground, simply staring at him.
‘What…’
“Pathetic.”
Forcing himself to ignore the voice that pierced his ears, Mark escaped the battlefield as fast as he could.