Chapter 4
Chapter 4
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: Pay-to-Win Knight
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"......"
"My god. How brutally did they beat you to leave you like this? This is straight-up trauma territory. It's just too much."
I give an awkward smile at his fussing and check over my body.
My shattered ribs are fully mended, and the torn skin and organs have returned to normal. The newly regenerated skin stands out against the surrounding charred flesh, which is a bit annoying, but thanks to the nutrient shot, there's no issue with movement.
Of course, every motion brings waves of insane pain.
'Just for now.'
Unless you're in the military, it's not easy to get pampered by a high-ranking healing sorcerer (aka doctor) like Lieutenant Thomas. In civilian life, you'd need a VIP hospital room for this.
From my perspective, I have to make full use of this opportunity.
"Lieutenant, I'm just tired."
"Oh, right, it's 4 a.m. Yeah, since you're here, crash on this bed. I'll bunk in the on-duty room. Ugh. Sleep deprivation's killing me lately. Gotta request an early morning off tomorrow...."
I cover my mouth with my right hand, watching Lieutenant Thomas grumble his way out of the infirmary.
"Login."
I whisper it very softly.
And just like that, I'm in Ardania.
"O~ rororo... O? Wh-what? The human's up!"
"No wounds? He was half shredded!"
"What? Should we kill him again?"
I ignore the bewildered orcs and get to my feet. Since I recovered on Earth, the double-bladed axe embedded in my body is just lying on top of me now.
Thud!
The double-bladed axe hits the ground. Thousands of orcs stare blankly at the scene.
Obviously.
No reason to hesitate.
"He's running!"
"Grab him!"
Shouts erupt behind me, but I don't even turn my head—I just bolt. I haven't owned this territory long, but I've got the castle's layout and terrain memorized.
I slip out of the territory castle in seconds and sprint straight down the main road.
"Stop right there!"
"Grab him! Kill him!"
"O~ rororo!"
"Wa-wait, human's too fa—!"
The orcs chase in a chaotic mob, crashing into each other, tangling up, and tumbling. Sure, a few make it through unscathed.
'Good, pulling away.'
Luckily, despite their brute strength and tough vitality, orcs have abysmal sprint speed.
It takes them a solid 20 seconds for 100 meters!
Even at full tilt. Dodging them on purpose is a breeze. After about a kilometer, their yells start fading.
Except for one.
Thud! Thud! Thud thud thud!
"Ah, damn it!"
I glance back at the heavy footsteps. A massive 2.5-meter orc is barreling toward me at ridiculous speed.
Vulcan Orc Warrior (Rare)
Hamrom
The very bastard who chucked his axe and delivered me to the gates of hell.
"Hoo!"
I steady my breath and keep running, squeezing through narrow gaps between buildings and vaulting over walls.
And the orc warrior chasing me?
Boom! Boom! Boom!
"Whoa."
He smashes through everything in his path!
"Hah... hah... Logout!"
When my stamina bottoms out from the sprint, I return to Earth. I catch my breath, hydrate, rest a bit, and loosen my shaking limbs.
"Login."
Then back to running.
"Graaaah! Stop, you squirrel rat!"
"You give up! Don't you get tired?"
Even cycling between Earth and Ardania to recover stamina, the orc warrior's closing the gap.
At least he wasted time retrieving his thrown axe, which bought me distance—otherwise, I'd have been caught ages ago.
Boom! Crunch! Thud!
We've hit the forest now, but he's pulverizing even the dense trees as he closes in.
The gap's down to under 5 meters. I give up fleeing and turn to face him.
"Logout."
Back to Earth.
"Hah... hah... whew... haa...."
I regulate my breathing. Before the fight, I need peak condition, so I rest longer and down a nutrient pack from the infirmary corner.
Click!
The infirmary door opens, and Lieutenant Thomas enters.
"Hey. You working out in your room or what? What's with this heart rate graph?"
"Working out? I was just sitting still. Though for some reason, I'm constantly out of breath."
"What're you talking about? You cursed or something?"
Vwoom!
Lieutenant Thomas raises his right hand, and waves of healing energy sweep over my body. My exhausted state from nearly 3 kilometers of sprinting recovers fully.
"No foreign mana detected. What the hell's going on?"
"I don't know either... cough!"
I fake a cough and cover my mouth with my hand.
And whisper.
"Login."
Flash!
"You! Gotcha!"
The orc warrior glares with a roar. He's huffed a huge distance with that bulk, so he's winded and fatigued.
I draw my sword.
The orc warrior hefts his axe.
Vwoom!
An invisible energy ripples along the orc warrior's axe. A power that reinforces its durability and boosts cutting and destructive force.
'Internal energy. This punk's a first-class martial artist? Sword Expert level?'
I let out a disbelieving chuckle. This dim-looking monster has reached a realm I'll never touch in my lifetime.
"...Fuck."
The curse slips out.
Fucking mana.
Fucking gigas.
"[Superhuman Motor Nerves], [Superhuman Mental Fortitude], [Inscrutable Combat Foresight], [Inscrutable Body Control]... Whoa. I thought that sorter was bullshitting when he said a powerless guy beat ability users, but damn, makes sense now. Ah~ but what to do about this."
I recall the words of the evaluator who tested my talents at city hall.
"[F-grade Mana Aptitude]."
Boom!
I dive past the descending axe. I'd love to parry, but clashing with an axe loaded with internal energy and enough strength to snap a tree trunk with a shoulder check would end me. Perfect evasion only.
Even reading the power flow perfectly, this strength gap means parrying sends my head flying instead.
'Wait, but his guard?'
A flash of doubt at his wide-open torso, but I can't ignore the opening—I swing my sword at the orc warrior's neck.
Clang!
"Clang?"
Stunned by the unexpected rebound from the precise strike. He exploits it, whipping his axe like a gale.
Flash!
I kick his thigh to dodge.
Then reset my stance.
"Hard Qi Gong! An orc doing fancy shit!"
But now that I know he trained Hard Qi Gong, countering's easy. It's a common training method for internal energy users. Even those gangster punks who messed with me back then trained in it.
And how'd they end up?
Needing regeneration magic to fix all their teeth.
"You! Sneaky! Eel bastard!"
Roaring, the orc warrior charges. Probably thought it was a trap, but I slipped it too easily—he's pissed, sweeping his double-bladed axe horizontally.
The strength-loaded axe swings at 45 centimeters off the ground. Seeing me dodge repeatedly, he's gone for an unavoidable attack!
'Low.'
No matter how low I crouch, it'll hit. Wide arc—no backpedaling or rolling saves you. A full-power strike from the orc warrior, fierce enough to whip up gale-force winds!
But from the moment he drew his arm back, I'd predicted it—I'd already kicked off the ground and leaped.
"Hah!"
I shout, putting my full body weight into the downward sword strike. The orc warrior stares straight up at it.
No fear in his bloodshot eyes.
'Hard Qi Gong!'
I know a straight chop to the head would just graze his forehead. And getting stuck midair would let his follow-up slaughter me.
Thwack!
So I kick his incoming arm to slow it, dropping my soaring body short—my sword slams his chest instead of his skull.
Crack-crunch!
I feel his ribs shatter under the full-force slash. Damn, he pulled back just enough to save his heart.
"Gr, raaaagh!"
Ignoring the gushing chest wound, the orc warrior angles his axe upward for a slice.
Impossible follow-up from a horizontal full-power swing, but his monstrous strength and internal energy make it happen. A desperate last move!
But I expected it.
Flash!
Focus. In a world where one second fractures into dozens, I shift the two-handed sword to my left hand.
And thrust my right hand out to block the incoming axe.
Crunch! Stab!
Clatter!
I fly several meters through the air, tumbling across the ground.
"Hah... hah... gonna need a cast."
Groaning through the dizzying pain, I check my body. Everything else's fine, but my right arm's obliterated—split vertically from between index and middle fingers, elbow and shoulder shattered from absorbing the force.
And the orc warrior?
"Guh... grrrk...."
Sword in his heart, he glares at me and collapses dead.
"Heh... heh heh. My win, dummy."
Normally, I wouldn't push this far. Spot a gap, escape—why fight? In this medieval land, killing 100 foes means nothing if one nick loses you the duel.
I've seen plenty die lingering months from a single arrow to the shoulder. Why else would I stick to defensive sword styles here?
But not anymore.
"Logout!"
Flash!
Splurt!
Blood sprays from my split arm.
Lieutenant Thomas stares in shock.
"U, aaaah! Wh-what is this?! Why's your arm splitting?! What the hell?!"
"Haha. I don't really kn—"
I spout nonsense.
And black out.