Fear's Flood and the Warrior's Fall
“Kim Min-jun! You fucking bastard!!” Park Gyu-wan spat the curse at the man's back as he turned and fled the battlefield alone.
What... what do I do? Watching this, Cheon Jae-hee rolled her eyes, frantically scanning her surroundings. Even now, people were dropping left and right under the orcs' relentless assaults from all sides. They weren't just taking it lying down—they struck back too—but it wasn't enough to handle the pincer attack. At this rate, everyone would die. Especially a woman like Cheon Jae-hee; she might even get dragged off by the goblins. The thought made her legs start to tremble.
She could feel her sphincter loosening, on the verge of letting loose a flood if she relaxed even a little. Fighting the urge, she poured all her strength into her legs and kept firing her crossbow. That's when it happened.
Ah! That guy? The chaos blinded everyone else, but her sharp eyes caught Ga-on bursting from the bushes. His name was definitely Hyeo Ga-on. She hadn't paid much attention at the time, but the unusual name had stuck with her. His appearance brought some relief, yet oddly made her legs shake even more. Puzzled, she glanced down at them, then back up—just in time to see him hurl his spear.
The spear streaked through the air like lightning, closing the distance in an instant and ripping the head clean off a goblin decked out in flashy garb. At the same moment, memories of their first encounter flashed through Cheon Jae-hee's mind. Images from then and now overlapped, reviving those raw emotions in vivid detail. The terror and dread she'd felt back then—it all surged back, making her half-convinced the goblin head rolling on the ground was her own.
To Cheon Jae-hee, Ga-on was an absolute powerhouse. Someone who exacted immediate retribution if crossed. And she had once inflicted a mortal wound on just such a man's side. Sure, he'd spared her life, but who knew if that was just a whim? If they crossed paths again now, he might kill her without hesitation. The thought hit her like a bolt, and in an instant, the strength drained from her sphincter. With it came the warm flood from her bladder, soaking her crotch.
“Ah, why, why all of a sudden...!” Her body had betrayed her, reacting on pure conditioned instinct. Panicking, she scrambled to hide it. A grown woman, pissing herself not once but twice like some child. It was more accurate to say her terror of Ga-on had evolved into a reflex.
The yellow stream soaking her inner thighs finally stopped only after Ga-on vanished back into the bushes. Regaining control of her legs, Cheon Jae-hee clenched her sphincter with all her might and scanned around.
Phew, no one noticed? Thanks to the robe covering her body, her accident stayed hidden. Even better, the goblins' momentum had inexplicably slowed to a crawl, giving the Shin Segye side some breathing room. More fighters shifted to the orcs, and casualties visibly dropped. Everyone, eager to repay the earlier beatings, roared with renewed vigor and counterattacked.
In the chaotic melee where no one could see an inch ahead, thankfully no one had the perception to spot her shame. She slipped a hand under her robe, squeezed the soaked fabric of her pants to wring out the moisture, then gripped her crossbow again.
Good. Definitely different from the average ones. After taking out the goblin shaman and ducking back into the bushes, Ga-on circled wide toward the orcs' position, clenching and unclenching his fist as he nodded. Slaying that elite specimen had boosted his physical abilities far more than killing a regular goblin.
In truth, he'd already hit the wall with goblins. Karma's core mechanism absorbed various data from the defeated foe and made it his own. It manifested insights and know-how from battles in a more intuitive, immediate form. Thus, Karma from the same monster type had a hard cap—you couldn't grow endlessly by grinding one species.
Nor was sniping last hits on monsters others had softened up a smart move. Karma reflected growth from direct combat. How could someone who hadn't fought claim the rewards? That's why Yi Cho-rin's stat gains had been sluggish early on; she'd only finished off goblins he'd subdued.
If last-hitting worked that way, the Union would be ruled by entrenched elites. But that wasn't what this Transcendent System intended. Power to fight dimensional invaders wouldn't be structured for a privileged few.
Yet one being escaped that mechanism: the regressor, Ga-on. Karma's foundation was insights from bloody monster fights. But Ga-on had already lived them all. With prior knowledge of every lesson and trick, all that remained was absorbing the Karma. He could grow purely from last hits.
That's why he now waited for the orc leader, the orc warrior, to tire. Extending his senses to confirm no eyes on him, Ga-on peeked from the bushes and closely observed the orc warrior weathering a ten-man assault from Shin Segye's elites.
A musclebound behemoth a head taller than regular orcs—easily over 2.2 meters—wielded a club as big as Ga-on himself, bellowing as it swung. Each arc whipped up a whoosh of wind. Shin Segye never clashed head-on, circling and striking. Only when evasion failed did three shieldbearers rush in to tank, but even they retreated afterward, shaking trembling arms in recovery.
Meanwhile, other orcs tangled with the rest of Shin Segye. No one yielded an inch. The perfectly balanced fight teetered on collapse from the slightest variable. Goblins, orcs, Shin Segye—all reduced to half strength or less. Even combined, they neared 400, but most were wounded; around fifty couldn't even move.
When combatants dropped below 200, that was the moment. He'd strike then, severing the orc warrior's neck while both sides were too pinned to notice. The battle would end in his clean victory. Just wait a bit longer.
He glanced toward Yi Cho-rin's position, then leisurely surveyed the field. Blood pooled, staining the clearing crimson. Hundreds of corpses piled atop scattered gear. Would anyone call him mad for feeling nostalgia amid this? Wars with so many allies were rare for Ga-on, who'd always fought alone. Compared to the lifeless ruins of his past, this brimmed with life. Red vitality sprayed ceaselessly, fueling the frenzy.
As stamina dipped, movements slowed. When around 200 still stood firm, opportunity knocked.
“GRRROOAAARRR!!” The orc warrior bellowed through its wounds, rage thick in the air. Its club flickered weak green.
Aura?Aura—or ki—the energy pervading all creation. At the 5th Stage, users could project it outward, enhancing strikes. On blades, it sharpened cuts; on bludgeons, it amplified destruction.
No way the shieldbearers could block that.
BOOM!!
“ARRGH!!”
“GRK!!”
The 2-meter club smashed shields, hurling the bearers skyward like truck victims. Screams erupted; the central one took the brunt, face caving in from transmitted force, dead instantly.
Balance shattered. Without shields, they lost their failsafe. Worse, the strike sowed terror, morale plummeting—some even glanced around for escape.
“ROOOAAARRR!!” The orc warrior rampaged like a lion among sheep. Each club swing forced Shin Segye back. No aura this time, but charging blindly was suicide.
Can't handle aura freely, huh. Lucky break. It had probably squeezed out everything for that burst. Free control would have made this far tougher—and they wouldn't have struggled so long.
Key point: Shin Segye reeled desperately; monsters pressed their chance recklessly. With no attention outward, Ga-on slipped in. He closed on the orc warrior, seizing the moment it raised for a finisher—and unleashed his spear at full power.
Prepped in advance, the throw packed unprecedented force, arrowing straight for the heart.
“Grk!?” Drunk on slaughter, it whirled in surprise—but too late. The spear grazed its club, slicing forearm deep.
Snatching a spear from the littered gear, Ga-on barreled through three blocking orcs in a flash, reaching the warrior's flank.
“GRRROOAAARRR!!” Wounded and enraged, it smashed down, faint aura flickering—sensing real threat, haste showing.
Ga-on slid low, evading. BOOM! The club cratered earth with a thunderous quake. Terrifying power, but irrelevant to him. Surging under its jaw, he thrust upward like a spring, impaling the skull through the soft throat. As he yanked free, the orc gurgled, staggered, and collapsed.
A chill silence blanketed the field. No one dared speak, eyes fixed on the orc warrior's corpse—once a paragon of ferocity.
“Hoo...” Ga-on's soft exhale shattered it. Monsters' killing intent speared toward him like needles. Even Shin Segye realized he was their target, hostility rising. Poised for a three-way onslaught, spear raised—
“ARRGH! Save me! Save me, you bastards!!” A familiar scream rang out.
Kim Min-jun barreled toward them, ragged and mad. A predator's roar shook the forest in pursuit.
“ROOOAAARRR!!” Like the orc warrior's, but distinctly deeper. Monsters knew it; even ignorant Shin Segye paled. As all froze—Ga-on alone moved.
Because Kim Min-jun's path, the troll's lair, was exactly where Yi Cho-rin hid. Confirming his dread: CRUNCH! Trees toppled that way.
—KYAAAHH! A shrill scream pierced the woods.