The last warrior of the Bloodwood Tribe, Huger.
The tribe Huger belonged to once roamed the Hobsun Mountains, but they fell helplessly before the sudden calamity that was the Dragon.
Right before his eyes, his kin and comrades were swallowed whole by the monster’s jaws, and their once-prosperous home was mercilessly destroyed.
Huger alone survived that massacre.
From that day forth, Huger swore vengeance.
He sought out the hated Dragon, gripping his axe tightly.
Even with an Orc’s limited wits, he knew it was a suicidal act.
Yet his heart cried out for revenge.
Better to die valiantly than to lose his pride and cower in hiding.
But Huger learned the true cruelty of the Dragon.
The beast tore at his flesh with its claws, scorching his red skin even redder with fire, then spat him out after toying with him in its jaws.
The Dragon let the gasping Huger live, as if daring him to come back for more.
Such wickedness trampled a warrior’s pride and courage into the dirt.
To the Dragon, Huger was nothing but a plaything, a toy to stave off boredom.
Once again surviving, Huger fell into despair.
He had sharpened his blade for revenge, but his foe was far beyond his reach.
Still, he never let go of his weapon.
Years passed.
Huger threw himself at the Dragon again and again, and each time, terrible new scars were carved into his body.
The Red Orc lived because he could not die—and because he could not die, he never gave up on vengeance.
Then, one day, over two hundred humans arrived in the Hobsun Mountains.
Huger eventually realized their goal was the Dragon.
To him, this was an opportunity he could not miss.
“Chwik, if I win the duel, you must keep your promise.”
He had tried to talk to the Knights many times, only to be chased away again and again.
But at last, there was a glimmer of negotiation.
The scrawny human before him proposed a duel.
If Huger could defeat him, he would consider joining forces.
The promise had been made with his own mouth—any true warrior would honor such a vow.
Huger drew his massive battle axe.
The Knights standing behind the human glared with murderous intent that pricked at his skin, but he couldn’t let this chance slip by.
“Young master! How could you make such a decision on your own! I am the commander of this expedition!”
In the midst of this, Polk scolded Richard von Bartenberg, his face stiff with anger.
“What’s so hard about just talking things out?”
Richard, unconcerned, waved his hand as if telling them not to interfere and just watch.
He looked past the shouting Knights and met Huger’s gaze.
“The Knights won’t interfere. Don’t worry.”
“Just keep your promise, Chwik.”
With those brief words, the duel began.
Huger’s bowed legs tensed, ready to explode.
In the next moment, he kicked off the ground and charged.
A savage aura radiated from the Red Orc barreling forward with his massive axe.
Crash!
His axe ripped apart the spot where Richard had been standing—a display of monstrous strength befitting his size.
But such a big attack always left an opening.
Richard’s Dragon Tooth swept in.
“Chwiik!”
Using the axe’s handle as a pivot, Huger twisted away and dodged the blade.
He leapt into the air, then lashed out with his foot.
Crack—!
Richard hurriedly pulled back his sword to block, but the blow still sent him sliding backward.
“Since when are Orcs so nimble…?”
Richard steadied himself, swallowing the words before they escaped.
Huger yanked his axe free and immediately resumed his assault.
Each time the deadly blade grazed Richard, a dreadful shockwave rang out.
It was a brutal strength that far surpassed any typical Orc chieftain.
And yet, for his size, Huger moved with surprising agility and flexibility.
“At least the level of an upper-ranked Knight…”
Watching the duel, Jack Schwager suppressed a groan.
He was ready to leap in at any moment.
No matter how much he disapproved, the young master was still the young master.
He had to prevent him from being cleaved in two by that Orc’s axe.
“Kwoooaaah!”
Suddenly, Huger let out a monstrous roar.
The Knights atop the fortress walls grimaced at the sound.
Among Orcs, this was known as the ‘War Cry’—a force that pressed down on one’s opponent.
But Richard’s expression remained calm.
The Crown of Ice always helped him keep his composure.
Spotting an opening, Richard dashed in close.
Crash!
Dragon Tooth, thrust with all his might, was blocked by the axe’s deadly blade.
Sparks flew as Huger and Richard glared at each other through the shower of light.
“Kahaha!”
A brief standoff. Then, out of nowhere, Huger burst into laughter.
It was so loud, it almost seemed like another War Cry.
“So, you truly are a warrior who enjoys battle, Chwik!”
“What are you talking about all of a sudden?”
“Don’t pretend otherwise. You’re enjoying this duel!”
Richard shook his head.
His fight with Huger was merely an extension of his earlier sparring with the Knights.
The objective had changed a little, but in the end, it was still about proving something to the Knights.
“To be honest, it is a bit fun.”
At some point, he had come to enjoy battle.
When he cut down monsters with the sword he’d honed through bloody training, he felt a sense of accomplishment.
When he won duels with Knights, his heart raced.
Now, if he wasn’t moving his body, he felt restless.
But Richard forced himself to suppress it.
The gap between the ordinary ‘Lee Ji-hoon’ and the in-game resident ‘Richard von Bartenberg.’
Welcoming battle and thirsting for victory—these were utterly foreign to Lee Ji-hoon.
“Chwiik, well, whatever.”
Huger swung his axe in a short arc to push Richard back.
His body was already burning with excitement.
The instinct for battle, which he’d suppressed for the sake of negotiation, now surged forth.
Rumble—
Golden energy rose up, swirling around Huger’s body and his axe.
It was the unique golden Aura of the Orcs.
“No!”
The Knights cried out in alarm at the sight.
Their faces went pale as they drew their weapons and prepared to charge in.
At that moment—
Thud-thud-thud!
With the sound of small footsteps, a massive tree sprang up from the ground, blocking the Knights’ path.
“What is this…?”
“No need to panic.”
It was Aaron Meyer who stepped forward to calm the startled Knights.
He spoke in his usual steady tone.
“Look at the young master.”
Polk and the other Knights quickly turned their eyes to Richard.
And then they widened them in shock.
“Au…Aura…?”
A pure white glow wrapped around the blade of his dark sword.
Richard, holding his sword aloft, was a sight they couldn’t tear their eyes from.
“H-how can the young master…?”
Wasn’t he supposed to have Mana Insensitivity?
“And that white light…”
“The young master is a Mana Trait Holder.”
At Aaron’s words, the Knights murmured in disbelief once more.
“How can this be, Aaron?!”
Aaron simply grinned at Polk, who was demanding an explanation.
The Third Knight Division.
His grandfather had once been the Grandmaster, and before Aaron became Richard’s direct subordinate, he was known as Bartenberg’s third sword.
So Aaron knew these men’s personalities well.
“Before long, you’ll all be amazed by the young master too.”
“What…?”
Polk frowned at his vague words.
“He’s moving!”
At a Knight’s shout, all eyes turned back to Richard and Huger.
Crash—!
The golden Aura swirling around the axe and the white-tinged sword collided.
Sword and axe clashed, shaking the ground and filling the air with thunder.
“Chwiik! A mutant, are you!”
By ‘mutant,’ Huger meant a Mana Trait Holder.
As if to prove it, Huger’s axe and Richard’s Dragon Tooth pushed against each other in midair.
A contest of strength between Orc and human that should have been impossible.
The difference in strength between the races was erased before the power of a Mana Trait.
“Still a rough Aura, but impressive strength, Chwik!”
It was Huger who stepped back. His scarred face was painted with surprise.
Compared to his own fully matured Aura, the human’s was still crude.
But the power it held was not to be underestimated.
Crash! Boom!
Richard immediately closed in and continued his assault.
Thunderous booms rang out in the air.
The shockwaves kicked up clouds of dust from the ground.
“Phew…”
One Knight let out a sigh.
Jack and Polk swallowed hard.
He was no longer the reckless brat they once knew.
He’d changed too much, too quickly.
Their minds raced with confusion.
A strange light flickered in the Knights’ eyes.
“Chwiik! Fighting you is truly a pleasure! How long has it been since I had such a battle!”
In full view of nearly two hundred humans, Huger shouted in exhilaration.
He showed no sign of fear that the humans might surround and attack him at any moment.
He knew well that his opponent was not that sort of person.
Orcs were a race ruled by the heart, not the mind.
Their finely honed instincts and senses made them adept at reading others’ true intentions.
The warrior before him was a strong male who genuinely enjoyed battle.
Crash!
Even if he tried to hide it, Richard’s body spoke the truth as he wielded his sword.
Behind the stiff, cold mask given by the Crown of Ice, a thrill flickered in his eyes.
“Huff…huff…”
Richard was breathing hard.
Huger was far stronger than he’d expected.
By Knight standards, he was beyond upper-rank—he was nearing the very top.
“Chwiik, it seems the outcome is decided.”
Huger’s words were true.
The Aura surrounding Richard’s sword was fading.
Meanwhile, Huger’s Aura remained solid.
The difference in Aura mastery determined the victor.
“A shame. If you could control your Aura more skillfully, this would’ve been an even more enjoyable fight.”
Richard closed his eyes without replying.
He had already achieved his initial goal.
He could feel the Knights’ gazes stabbing into his back.
They were no longer cold or dismissive.
Still, he didn’t want this duel to end in defeat.
He had learned to wield Aura, slain thirty Trolls and their leader, and won duels against half a dozen Knights.
Several proud accomplishments.
He wanted to add this Orc to that list.
Confronted with defeat, the competitive spirit he’d long ignored began to stir.
His mind cooled once more.
“Hoo…”
Richard exhaled, as if he’d forgotten how to speak, and opened his eyes.
Into the Mana Route that had just run dry, Faith surged forth in place of Holy Power.
Rumble—!
Aura gathered once more on Dragon Tooth.
It was an overwhelming force, the Aura of Faith bursting forth.
Even Richard himself had never attempted this technique before.
“Chwiik!”
Eyes wide, Huger instinctively raised his axe.
His mind couldn’t keep up with what was happening.
He simply followed his instincts.
His heart pounded wildly.
Danger bells rang in his head.
Then, Richard brought his sword down.
Clang—!
A blinding explosion of light accompanied a tremendous crash.
For a moment, the night-darkened encampment was lit up as bright as day.
Without a word, Huger lowered his axe.
Death had passed him by.
A deep gouge was left in the ground, right next to where he stood.
Had it struck directly, he and his axe would have been cleaved apart.
“Dear heavens…”
The Knights watching the duel trembled.
The flash that had briefly banished the darkness was burned into their minds.
For some reason they couldn’t explain, a sense of awe—something Richard never thought he’d feel in his life—rose within him.