The Tutorial Boss Prepares for Growth
Dirt exploded upward in a vicious spray. The log the ogre swung shattered terrain and trees alike. Its eyes rolled back red, steam boiling from its gaping maw. Veins bulged crimson along its forearms, wrapping the log in a red aura. The ogre charged.
It swung the trunk—big as its own body—light yet heavy, smashing into another tree. Wood splintered in the arc of its swing, hurtling straight at me. I leaped aside as it passed, the fierce gust whipping past. Diving between its legs, I slashed its left thigh and rolled clear. The log rose high. Then it slammed down. It cratered the earth, hurling clods of dirt. Dodging again, I carved another slice into that left thigh. The ogre's leg buckled.
"───!!!"
The ogre bellowed. It swept the log sideways. The wild swing cleared a wide berth beneath it. I dropped low. The wind pressure slapped my face.
So this is how you dodge in real life.
In the game, a simple roll ended it. But now, in this reality, you had to weave the trajectory precisely—though it felt roomier than expected. Each pattern had obvious gaps, timings where space opened up. I closed in. Slashed the thigh. Again. Again.
"───!!!!"
The ogre's left leg folded. It tilted hard to one side. Seizing the instant it staggered, I lunged and severed its left knee. Its head loomed closer as it fully buckled to the ground. Blood poured from its legs; it snarled in fury, forcing itself upright—but that only made it bleed more. The ogre screamed. It hurled the log. Clawed for me with its hands. I slashed its grasping fingers and circled behind.
A giant over three meters tall knelt now, its back at perfect height. I planted a foot on it, vaulted to its shoulder, and stared down at its neck. Threads appeared. Innumerable slashes from Eck's instincts traced the perfect line—where to cut for a clean kill. The ogre's hide and bones were tough, but repeated probes sharpened the path. Between thick skin and muscle. The vertebrae. Soft flesh draped in the gap. As its hand lunged back for me—
I reversed my grip. Slashed along the thread. Put my full weight into one clean stroke. The blade pried the hide's seam, sheared muscle. Bone grated between vertebrae, transmitted to my hands—then the ogre jolted in shock, lending extra force. The spine snapped with a crack. The body collapsed without resistance.
Thud.
The massive frame toppled forward. I panted atop its shoulder.
"Hoo... got it."
My hands shook. Tension ebbed, letting the fear of facing that monster creep in. But I'd won. Without a scratch.
Silence blanketed the forest. Beyond it, red monsters stirred with distant growls. I drew my dagger.
"Let's finish quick."
Time to butcher. Unlike the game, reality demanded hands-on work. Eck's muscle memory guided the cuts in perfect sequence. First, the magic stone. A massive vein coiled around it like a serpent. The body was dead, but the Red Magic Stone pulsed red, hot against my palm. Worth gold on its own. Red stones held vast mana—enough capacity to engrave high-cost skills. Coat a blade in its power, and you imprinted that force. Normal stones fueled spells; reds were for enhancements. As an A-rank monster, this one's stone drew noble demand.
"Next, the hide."
Ogre leather made potent armor on its own. Infused with Red Moon energy, it resisted magic—perfect for close-range fighters facing mages. I separated skin from meat with practiced ease. Last, the tendons. Ogre sinew strung bows. Red ogre tendons were light yet supple, tough yet strong, highly reactive to mana. That explained their disproportionate power. My pack grew heavy: Red Magic Stone, ogre hide, tendons. My targets this run—all for upgrades. Sell the stone for funds, craft the rest with Borudo. Eck's gear was solid but just early rare stuff. To farm the Red Forest comfortably, I needed better foundations. Red ogre materials were the strongest available here early on.
"Can't forget this."
The log the red ogre had thrown brimmed with red energy. It'd dissipate once the Red Moon set. Wasted potential if ignored. Pack full, no point lingering. Back to the city.
I knocked on Borudo's Blacksmith. Thump thump thump!
"Fuck! Who is it!"
"Open up."
Quiet from beyond, then the door creaked. Borudo clutched a booze bottle.
"What, this late? Red Moon's got me pissed enough."
Thud! I dropped my pack. Untied it; a gush of blood reek hit the air. Borudo's eyes widened.
"This is..."
"Red ogre hide, tendons. And its log. Stone too."
Borudo squatted, pawing the contents. He rubbed the hide's tough surface, eyes narrowing.
"Red ogre? You took it solo?"
"Look like a lie?"
"With it right here? Nah. But you?"
"What's that mean."
Normal Eck wouldn't hunt on Red Moon nights. Borudo eyed me, questioning.
"Anyway, can you craft?"
"Can I? You mad bastard, I gotta touch stuff like this first." He tugged a tendon, tested bounce, sniffed. "But yeah, I'll handle it proper. What're we making?"
"Process it all if you can."
"All?"
The pack brimmed with hide and tendons—a hefty haul.
"Yeah. All of it. Before the Red Moon sets."
"During Red Moon? That urgent?"
"Heard red materials hold power best if worked under the moon. Or am I wrong?"
Borudo set his bottle down.
"If that's true, better hustle."
His eyes sharpened—not sobering, but craft-lust overlaying the drunk haze. Dwarf artisan fire for rare goods.
"Cost? You ain't expecting freebies."
I dumped my Red Magic Stones before him. From wolves and goblins.
"Look short on cash?"
"Music to my ears for once."
Beaming at the goldmine, Borudo lit the forge.
"I'll send word when done. Now scram. You're an eyesore."
"Yeah, do good work."
Out the door. Skyward glance. Red Moon lingered till dawn—plenty of time.
Room for a few more runs.
Pack empty, back to the Red Forest.
"Sis, sorry. Cough cough."
"Nothing to be sorry for."
Elena tended her sister in bed. Their home was tiny: one room, one kitchenette. Wind whistled through holes patched with cloth. Her little sister had lain feverish for days now, small frame bundled under blankets, cheeks flushed hot. Elena knelt by the bed, hand to her forehead. Burning.
"...Sis?"
Elis cracked her eyes, gaze hazy with fever, seeking her sister. That apology must've been sleep-talk; now she searched desperately.
"Gotta go out today?"
"Yeah. Staying put."
"Sis... heard from Aunt Hanna you're an adventurer now."
"Y-yeah?"
"Dangerous, right? Swinging swords, fighting monsters. Don't want you hurt."
Elena clasped her hand. Small, bony—wasted away.
"Won't get hurt. Don't worry."
"Liar. Aunt Hanna said adventuring's super risky."
Elis tugged her sleeve.
"If it's for me... just stay?"
"Who's getting your meds then? Quit babbling and drink."
Elena released her hand, tucked the blanket over her shoulders. Elis looked ready to plead more, but fever dragged her lids down. Soon, asleep again. Elena gazed long at her peaceful face.
'Wisdom Fever.'
'Wisdom Fever?'
Days ago, the doctor had diagnosed.
'Smart kid, surely. But her brain can't handle the wisdom—it's wrecking her body.'
'Not a disease?'
'More a blessing gone overboard. Like too much medicine turns poison.'
Born noble, she'd be a grand mage. The doctor left after. Elena begged: what must she do? 'Can you bear it?' She'd burned through Dad's inheritance on meds. He gave suppressants.
"Elis? Meds before bed, okay?"
"Mmm... tastes bad..."
She coaxed the powdered draught down her half-awake throat. Elis relaxed, fever easing.
"...I'll save you, Elis. You're all I got left."
Confirming her asleep, Elena stepped into the yard. Red sky loomed, omen-like. Dad said Red Moons drove monsters berserk. Hunter Dad couldn't teach her much before monsters claimed him. But those scraps sustained her: butchery tips, hunt tricks, housework. Without them, she'd still flounder. No more lessons now. The rest, self-taught.
"Am I doing right?"
Elena drew her sword. Plain straight blade. Lighter than Dad's battered one. She slashed air. Recalled the man who'd bought it: black wolf Eck. Infamous—for bad reasons. Rumors of devouring women; she'd nearly drawn on him first meet. But his actions? Nothing like.
Maps given. Monster weaknesses shared. Bet with coin, paid full without haggling. Sword bought. Even offered sword lessons. Words blunt, excuses all "profit" or "deal." True? Naive to worldly ways, Elena couldn't tell gratitude from foolery. But his help did aid her now.
Why help me?
Sucker-hunting, as claimed? Whatever the goal, she couldn't refuse. Dad's legacy fell short. Under the red sky, she swung. Imagined wolf, goblin before her—sliced them down.