Orc Settlement (1)
If I'd cleared Chekhov's Arena without hooking up with anyone, just killing Park Chang-su and bailing solo, I'd have gone straight into the 2-loss zone. Whether it was 0 wins and 2 losses or 1 win and 2 losses, both meant elimination all the same.
Everyone else would've jumped into the 2-loss zone anyway, hunted down Park Chang-su, and twisted his neck one more time. But that wasn't always possible. Sometimes Estiel would open multiple stages at once, stranding you in a spot where Park Chang-su had already dropped. Mid-stage intrusions become impossible, forcing you to tackle your own stage solo—and in the tutorial, you'd never settle that grudge.
To get revenge, you'd have to pray for the miracle that Park Chang-su somehow cleared all three tutorial stages. Or he'd burn through his three reserve hero lives on his own screw-ups, get branded as trash by the angels, and you'd never cross paths again. At that point, no need to even bother.
Either way, risks had to be managed. Human malice had no bottom.
First, park the Park Chang-su issue for later. Time to sort out where to mid-intrude.
Focus on the now. My destination: the Orc Settlement. The steady seller in the tutorial's three-stage lineup: Goblin Forest—Orc Settlement—Siege Warfare. The final stage varied by how well the tutorial heroes handled it, but for anyone who'd breezed through Goblin Forest, nothing beat the Orc Settlement for a fitting next step.
"One thing before you enter," Estiel said as she opened the dimensional gate. Specially for me, the gate shimmered above with numbers etched in: 59%/100%.
"Since it's already in progress and you're joining mid-way, you might think, 'I'll just reap the rewards.' But entering late comes with disadvantages."
"Disadvantages?"
"You'll see. Here." Estiel snapped her fingers. Golden light flickered before me, a hologram blooming into a status window.
Destroy the Orc Settlement.
Main Quest: Destruction of the Orc Settlement (Hive).
Side Quest: Kill the Orc Lord (0 / 1).
Personal Quests
1) Kill Orcs (0 / 100).
2) Destroy Orc Hatcheries (0 / 3).
3) Destroy Orc Breeding Grounds (0 / 1).
"......."
Surprisingly user-friendly mission objectives. Estiel displayed the quests like a game UI, her face a mix of sulkiness and resignation.
She prefers verbal briefings over game analogies.
Game metaphors had pros and cons. Folks like me, who saw it as "just a convenience simile, not actual reality," were fine. But some reserve heroes treated it like a real game, undervalued their lives, charged in recklessly once they became true heroes, and died. End of story.
You could argue for making the tutorial harsher—no coins, one death and you're out—but the system had deep roots. Three lives were non-negotiable. A system riddled with frustrating quirks—
But not my problem to fix.
Who knew how many more heroes would get summoned? High-level bullshit aside, kill the Demon King and done. What mattered was maxing gains from the current setup.
"So others have already filled the side quest progress?"
"Yes."
"Clearing the main quest means clearing the tutorial stage. What's the perk for the side quests?"
"You'll learn in the final stage." Estiel kept her tone neutral, but her eyes screamed you already know as she nodded toward the gate's interior.
"Reserve Hero Yoo Si-woo. Before you enter, we'll equip you like the others." Snap! New gear materialized over me in an instant.
"Oh." Classic fantasy mercenary kit. Light clothes and shoulder pauldrons I'd have slaved for exchange vouchers to get in Chekhov's Arena.
"May your fortunes... hm?" I reached out to Estiel.
"High-five. You don't know?"
"That's..."
"If you're really wishing me luck, at least high-five."
Truth be told, I wanted to cop a feel somewhere else, but this would do for now.
"...No helping it." Clap. Estiel high-fived me.
"Considering your motivations, I'll pray for your victory with the words that'll fire you up most."
"What words?"
"If you clear this stage successfully." Post-high-five, Estiel lifted the front of her habit just a bit.
"You can grope my tits once."
"......." Already did plenty.
"You better not disappoint."
Officially greenlit? Hell yeah, I'd take it. Vmmm. I hurled myself through the gate into the third stage.
A touch of vertigo. Like tumbling through dimensions, I landed in the Orc Settlement.
By memory, it started in a wide clearing.
Merchant caravan ambushed en route to the village, old weapons discarded after the orcs hit.
Unlike Chekhov's Arena, you could grab weapons right at the start. Except—
"No weapons here."
I saw dozens of footprints in the clearing. Old bloodstains from the attacked group, plus fresh splatters. Where rusty weapons should've been? Nothing. Not even wagon wheels—just a half-smashed cart abandoned.
"Damn. The gap's real."
Chekhov's Arena had been hell. Even mid-intruding, this starting gear felt god-tier.
"Sucks that tutorial clear records are gonna tank... but whatever." Crack. I pried off a wooden plank. The cart was basically dismantled beyond recognition, but underneath, I gripped a long axle like a skeleton frame.
"Weapons on the way... oh."
Chwiik. Two orcs lumbered out, making gross noises. Not warrior muscleheads—these were potbellied like goblins, lower halves wrapped in rags, weapons aimed at me.
Chwiik!! Not solo; they moved in pairs. One with a club, the other—
"Lucky me." Aiming a bow my way. I jerked my head aside.
Swish! Arrow grazed my earlobe. I charged, flipping the axle spear-style.
"2/100."
Chwiik—Splat!
* * *
"Huff, huff, huff...!" A young man in leather armor bolted through the woods. Arrow lodged in his leather helmet, blood dripping from his forcibly gripped arm as he ran.
Chwiik! Three orcs hot on his heels, ragged breaths echoing. Each clutched weapons dripping human red.
"Shit...!"
Run or die. Just like the village folk in this stage—slaughtered mercilessly. Maybe not quite like the women, but—
Crunch.
"?!"
Something snagged his foot mid-sprint through the brush. Even tumbling forward, he couldn't process what.
"Huh?"
Realizing it was a headless orc corpse, his brain froze. Why's an orc body here? Something that shouldn't be—terror hit, but—
Thud! Face-planted. Sticky, foul liquid splashed his face; agony flared across his front.
"Urgh...!"
No. Stay sharp. Or those orcs behind would—
Chwiik?!
—catch and kill him. But the orcs sounded panicked.
"Wha...?"
The orcs fled instead. Like they'd seen forbidden shit, turning tail the way they'd come.
"What the..."
He pushed off the ground. Squish.
"!!"
Not ground—another orc corpse. Dozens of fresh orc former-bodies strewn about, wounds oozing hot blood like they'd just been killed.
"N-No way. Don't tell me... a 'Strategy Team'?"
A Strategy Team nearby? No. They'd ditched stragglers for the main quest, nowhere near.
"Or...!"
Rumors flew. Losers-revival folks, led by a blonde freshman girl, freshly hunting orcs. No clue what went down in losers-revival, but they one-shotted orcs that goblin-killed others.
He hadn't bought it. Even if true, this scene? Impossible.
"Insane..."
Dozens of orc corpses littered the area. And in the middle...
"...Hm?"
A young man with an orc axe wiped blood from his cheek with his sleeve, standing casual as hell.
"What?"
Thud. The youth blacked out.
Last thing: through his messy black hair, his eyes had flashed red for a split second.