Annihilation of the Orc Village
I used three types of poison.
A sleep toxin, a paralyzing one, and a weakening agent that sapped their strength.
That made three in total.
Since I was relying on Poison Magic, I moved with extreme caution to avoid detection by the mana-sensitive shaman.
Fortunately, I wasn't spotted.
I'd estimated it might take up to a week, but the black orcs' natural resistance turned out lower than expected. It only took four days to poison them all.
Orcs began collapsing throughout the village.
Not every single one, of course.
There were variations between individuals.
Higher-ranked orcs didn't fully drop, but some parts of their bodies were paralyzed, or their vitality visibly drained.
The layer boss shaman seemed outwardly fine, but I could tell something was wrong.
He hadn't emerged from his lair once.
It's about time to make my move.
My target was the shaman's magic stone, but I couldn't just take him out alone.
His lair sat at the village center, and even now, with so many orcs down, the guards around it remained vigilant.
To claim that magic stone, fighting the orcs was inevitable.
I'd anticipated this from the planning stage, so no panic.
The village teemed with orcs, sure, but I'd already eroded most of their forces with poison. No worries there.
Black orcs might outclass same-rank kin, but staggering around like that? They were just my next meal.
It's been a while since I could gorge like this.
I'd originally planned to start with the shaman's guards, but I changed tactics.
For an ambush like this, take out the strongest leader first.
From my trips spreading poison, I'd confirmed even an A-rank shaman couldn't pierce my Stealth.
Slipping into his lair was straightforward.
As expected, the shaman was badly weakened.
Hiding his frailty to avoid leaving the lair, but he seemed even worse off than I'd guessed.
Low poison resistance, maybe?
Even tensed up as an A-rank layer boss, he was wheezing hard when I checked.
Worse than lower-rank black orcs, even.
Should've just used my own venom instead of mixing poisons?
Combining Poison Magic with my innate toxin might've killed him easier…
A twinge of regret.
But the situation wasn't bad.
Better than expected, really.
I'd braced for a fierce fight, but in this state, I could finish him effortlessly.
He didn't sense me right in front of him. I could just swallow him whole.
Decision was quick; action quicker.
At the strike, the shaman's tightly shut eyes snapped open.
Too late.
Weaker physically than a standard A-rank and debuffed, he couldn't stop me.
Chomp—Crunch—
My first black orc tasted like black pork.
True to the name.
A monster like the shaman surely had a magic stone, and I devoured it successfully, but no immediate changes.
Like before, a new skill would come post-evolution.
Thankfully, it felt close, so no rush.
Please, give me that fire-attribute magic I've been craving.
Pray like last time?
No god to pray to… the System, maybe?
After downing the shaman easier than thought, I hit the other orcs as planned.
They panicked seeing me burst from the leader's lair.
I savored their chaos, then went wild.
They tried blocking me, of course, but couldn't.
Some B-ranks like me, but weakened—hopeless.
Orcs charging from everywhere? Delicious.
Black pork all-you-can-eat buffet.
Their ferocity was impressive.
Weakened to hell, comrades vanishing one by one, yet they kept coming.
Madness in their roars and charges.
Even just the mobile ones were endless.
A bit unnerving.
Plan was skirmish and slip away, but this reckless assault screamed something wrong.
Could I escape now? Would they let me?
I'd figured losing their boss and thinning ranks would make them flee first…
Yeah, something was off.
Should've just eaten the shaman and bailed…
Late regret, but no choice.
Work hard.
Started as fun, turned serious—really hustled.
Kill, eat charging orcs.
Mindless repetition.
Time passed.
When I snapped to, the vast village held only me.
Victory.
Dazed.
Me, wiping that horde?
Plenty of immobile orcs lingered, but nothing nearby could move but me.
Realization hit—a euphoric rush.
Full-strength orcs? Survival, let alone victory, impossible.
But I survived, won.
I weakened them, so pure joy earned.
Ecstatic.
Figured that many kills meant evolution—nope.
Still short?
Felt close, but no exact gauge.
Evolve soon, please…
Stayed to clean up.
Finish poisoned non-combatants.
Ate plenty in battle, but Gluttony energy matched pre-fight—used for regen and mana.
Survey showed survivors beyond imagination.
Double the fighters, at least.
Neck prickled.
All in? Disaster.
Refueling via eats, confident against defeat, but easy win? No.
Worst case, overwhelmed, fled.
Good I poisoned first.
Orcs breed like roaches, huh.
Even near wipe, they'll repop.
Infinite refill tempted, but their caliber sobered me.
Complacency kills—stay vigilant.
Satisfied, orc-free, I left floor 53.
That shitty weather felt crisp today.
Rumble—Boom!
Bolt struck inches away.
Crisp? Retract.
Floor 54 was uneventful.
Had a layer boss, unlike shaman—too risky.
A-rank late, near S-rank.
Play nice, pass.
Floor 55, Plains Zone end, gateway to Lava Zone—hunters' frontier.
Arrived late night.
Gate hard to find on 54, evading boss slowed me.
Gateway ahead.
Relief at leaving endless plains, but faint regret.
Adapting to filthy climate; grew tolerable.
Samgyeopsal anytime, fire magic? Livable…
Snapped out.
Last floor nostalgia? Insane.
Absurd.
Mixed feelings stepping onto 55: vast plain, pounding storm.
Darker clouds, countless corpses below.
Stared; thunder jolted me. Rumble—Boom!
What…?
Plains filled with orc and hunter bodies.
Mass battle?
Crept wary—no live signs.
Up close, numbers huge.
More orcs, but hunters plentiful.
No upward climbers, so returnees from Lava expedition?
Seemed likely.
Guild marks familiar—not top five, but known.
Aggressive mergers bloated them.
Flashy growth, hollow core…
Lava raids meant solidified now.
Too late, with this carnage.
Sensing faint breath—near death.
Rushed over.
Giant orc, three-four times normal size; hunter with sword in its heart.
Messier scene screamed brutal fight.
Breath from hunter.
Close approach, no reaction.
Unconscious?
Closer—still nada.
Relaxed, examined.
Hunter's faint aura: S-rank.
Unimpressive, yet chilling.
Scales quivered; calmed.
Orc long dead—nothing.
Huge build, refined gear: powerhouse.
Surrounding hunter toll: S-rank plus. Layer or zone boss.
Fit: ambush on return, mutual destruction.
Staring at orc, hunter's eyes cracked open.
Flenched.
"───."
Mumbled—unintelligible.
No longer language.
Good, no attack.
Dying S-rank risky; lucky.
"────."
Muttered again—gibberish.
Last words?
Doesn't see me as monster.
Others wouldn't spare weakened prey; mistakes me for hunter.
Listened silently.
Mumbled, eyes closed.
Relieved expression.
Breath stopped.
Watched, then gape—swallowed hunter and orc.
Left corpse-free plain via warp gate.
Before me: new hellscape.
Lava Zone.