Batar's Challenge
Tiny couldn't shake the nagging unease about that name that kept cropping up so ominously.
'Morse...'
"So you knew after all."
"Knew? Ah... was it that obvious?"
"Plenty."
Batar flinched for a split second at the response, then burst into booming laughter.
"Haha! How could we not know when the man whose name echoes through the human world has passed through our tribal lands? As an orc warrior, how could I not be curious about you?"
Tiny couldn't help but smirk at the glint in Batar's eyes.
'He didn't bat an eye at the Tomodo tribe we passed first.'
Not just his unusually fluent common tongue—the chieftain before him struck Tiny as remarkably unusual for an orc. Of course, his inability to fully hide his ulterior motives was pure orc through and through.
"In that case, I should live up to that interest."
Crack, crunch.
His body, having devoured nearly an entire pig, signaled full recovery. The chieftain of the Red Boar tribe—and their mightiest warrior—Batar smiled at the sight.
* * *
Emerging from Batar's large command tent, Tiny found orc warriors already lined up in front, blocking other orcs from approaching—as if they'd prepared in advance.
Even so.
"цркцлвыдфвд врдйтвдыкрл кгачтаьа пледыул!!"
(The chieftain is dueling an outsider!!)
The moment someone bellowed the news, the entire Jamingwood erupted in chaos as orcs swarmed like bees. By the time Batar and Tiny had taken positions at a suitable distance, spectators packed densely beyond the wall of encircling orc warriors.
"Хэтэрхий жижиг?"
"цркцлвыдфвд врщ цоаоы вдыклыкрл?"
("Too small?")
("Is the chieftain really fighting something that tiny?")
In the rowdy atmosphere, Batar glanced at Tiny with an awkward expression.
"Sorry about this. These stares a bit much?"
"Not at all. If you're fine with it, Chieftain, so am I..."
Batar nodded with a chuckle.
"Confidence overflowing, as expected."
Why's that confidence?
As Tiny tilted his head in confusion.
"Even at a glance, the gap in realms is huge, so I'll use a practice weapon. Feel free to use your real one."
His words furrowed Tiny's brow. A duel between a Challenger-grade orc and a Blader-grade human—it made sense he'd 'misjudge' it that way.
"Realm doesn't always decide the winner, does it?"
"Ho, that's something orcs or beastkin friends say to humans. That confident, eh?"
"Can't have the guest beating the host, after all."
"What...? Hm, overflowing confidence is good. But courage and recklessness are different, young friend. No one's taught you that yet?"
For the first time since they met, Batar's face hardened visibly. But Tiny remained unfazed.
"Experience it yourself and judge."
With a snap of his fingers, his shoulder armor—Animus—peeled away, revealing his muscled upper body.
Orcs wouldn't care about a human's scrawny(?) frame, but as Animus floated before Garen, emanating sunset-hued mana, the noisy crowd fell eerily silent.
Everyone could sense the extraordinary treasure suddenly revealed.
"...A Transcendent Weapon?"
Batar muttered in awe.
"That's right. Figured fairness meant going without it. It's a pretty impressive piece."
The massive buff from Animus vanished, bringing a fleeting wave of weakness, but Tiny smiled nonchalantly and snapped his fingers again.
At that instant.
"воб, во?!"
A nearby orc warrior's startled cry rang out as a pure white bone club flew from his belt toward Tiny.
"Mind if I borrow your weapon for a bit? Anyone translate?"
"No need. Just startled. Use it."
Tiny gave the orc a slight bow, then swung the bone club through the air.
Whoosh!
'Not bad.'
He didn't know what beast's bone it was or how it was crafted, but it balanced well as a bludgeon and looked sturdy. Compared to Stamp, though, it was crude.
Without Animus and Stamp, Tiny's combat power had dropped to less than a third in an instant.
'Seal Wolrang too, and it'd be under a fifth.'
- Woof!
'Hold back this time. Sorry.'
Even so, Tiny met Batar's gaze with confident eyes.
Batar, who'd stared at Animus entranced, now looked at Tiny with renewed admiration.
"...That power just now—it wasn't mana?"
'Spot on.'
Tiny just grinned in response.
"Just a show to keep you from getting careless, Chieftain. Hope it didn't offend."
A feral smile crossed Batar's face for the first time.
"...As if."
His natural features made it look downright vicious, but Tiny recognized the orc's battle lust and smiled back in satisfaction.
'How far will my pure strength reach now?'
It wasn't just Batar who wanted to test his opponent's mettle.
Thud.
Batar stepped forward, having shed all his gear. The equipment of the Red Boar chieftain—one of the steppe orcs' elite powers—wasn't Transcendent, but all artifacts of note. Stripped bare, his presence noticeably diminished.
Yet with just a hefty bone axe in hand, Batar seemed oddly thrilled.
"Been a while. Heh."
As Batar's battle intent surged.
"втфцдквг!"
"коадаьа йоаадалкр!"
("Make space!")
("Push back the spectators!")
The orc warriors shoved the crowd outward, clearing more room. In the secured space, Batar slowly raised his axe, aiming at Tiny.
His massive frame towered over 2 meters, muscles rippling across his exposed torso. Crimson tattoos glowed beneath his green skin, manifesting a gigantic wild boar's image over his body.
Red mana shimmered like heat haze around him, adding vivid depth to the hazy boar form—making his already enormous build seem several times larger.
This wasn't mere illusion.
'Tribal tattoos.'
The unique mana circuit technique most orc warriors learned—humans ignorant of it called it tattoo magic. The derogatory name came from novices going berserk under tribal symbols, but masters like Batar, with his calm red-glowing eyes, avoided such pitfalls.
"Still time to use that Transcendent Weapon, Sir Tiny."
"This'll do, Chieftain."
"Confident you won't disappoint?"
"Of course."
"Then come."
Their battle-lust smiles crossed. Words ended.
As Batar twitched his axe, Tiny shot toward him like lightning. Batar swung without hesitation at the much smaller human.
'No fancy tricks!'
Orc tribal tattoos were a branch of mana circuits. Tribes had unique styles, but most shared one goal: unbreakable toughness. The secret letting orc warriors dominate weaker foes without armor.
And that was precisely Tiny's strongest domain now.
'Raw power it is!'
Tiny's full-force bone club smashed into the oncoming axe.
Kwaaaaang!
A primal clash unworthy of seasoned warriors. Both slid back simultaneously, the shockwave shaking every watching orc.
"фдсды……!!"
("...!!")
Embarrassed by the equal recoil? Batar ground his teeth unconsciously, halted, then recomposed—righting his cracked axe.
And in that moment.
"Kweeeeeeeeeeeek!!!!"
A colossal boar's roar erupted, sharpening the red boar image as Batar charged like lightning.
Tiny, recovering half a beat later, calmly raised his bone club.
'Stronger than expected.'
Thrilling pressure made his body tremble, a goofy grin creeping onto his lips.
'Just like Zerik.'
The scent of an old comrade from this unfamiliar orc.
- One hot shot to end it. Either I shatter or he does. That's the warrior's way, right?
'Yeah, I think so too.'
So he didn't dodge, hurling himself at the frontal charge.
He dared face a superior orc physically without artifacts because he trusted himself that much.
Splat.
His already 16x denser-than-body-mass frame compressed another 16x per step. Then, kicking off, it lightened to 1/16—explosive muscles propelling him forward.
The repeated density shifts over short distance accelerated him wildly, generating immense momentum.
"Raaah!"
Simultaneously, his Mana Body flooded every fiber with mana, maxing output to body and club.
The result of amplified soul power. Same realm as the palace incident, but peak burst far stronger now.
'Perfect!!'
In surging euphoria, closing in—the red boar loomed, space crackling oppressively.
Batar's spatial dominance binding him. But Tiny's maxed power shredded it effortlessly.
'Thrilling. Awesome!'
Grinning naturally, he met Batar's identical smile.
- Now!
Whose thought? In shared resonance, weapons swung.
Tiny's Meteor Strike. Batar's Red Boar Hunt: Tusk Ram.
Kwaaaaaaaaaaang!
Beautiful crimson and sunset lights crossed, an earth-shattering boom erupting.
Then.
Kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa...
The shockwave spread, whipping gale-force winds that could fling ordinary humans.
"Damn! What the hell...!?"
"вдкз фтеьы……?!"
"Крлк цлйвл!"
As orcs clutched each other, staggering—the duo at center gripped only shattered weapon hilts, staring each other down.
"You had reason to be confident."
Batar wiped blood from his mouth, smiling. Tiny coughed black gore, grinning back.
"You too..."
"Hahaha! Not yielding a word. Good."
Batar extended a hand with hearty laughter.
"Rumors confirmed. Now we can talk truth."
"...??"
"Follow, friend. You'll want to know this."
"What...?"
"Not for here."
"Ah... sure."
Tiny followed, head tilted curiously.
"Together, Sir Tiny!"
Garen scooped Stamp and Animus laboriously, hurrying after.
"йрлЕво?"
"цовфла фоецгЕво."
("What?")
("The chief's friend.")
The storm-ravaged site buzzed as orcs replayed the spectacle.
One orc alone scowled at his handle-only bone club.
"ыщ фткд……."
(My weapon...)