CHAPTER 36: ORC AND HUMAN

Stephan blurred forward, a streak of crimson and writhing shadow trailing in his wake. He intercepted Anna Mary mid-flight, his arms locking around her just before her body could smash into the jagged stone wall.

The impact drove him backward in a grinding skid, boots tearing shallow grooves into the ground under her weight. He steadied her, feeling the sharp hitch in her breath and the wet warmth of blood against his side.

Then his gaze lifted.

At the far end of the street stood the one responsible, an Orc unlike anything Stephan had seen. Skin the color of frozen steel stretched over corded muscle, every inch marked with ancient, spiraling scars. Massive, forward-sweeping horns framed a face carved from brutality itself, red eyes burning beneath a heavy brow. Blackened steel swords hung casually in its grip, their rune-etched blades exhaling a faint, almost hungry whisper.

It wasn’t simply standing there, it was looming, its very presence filling the space like a physical weight, as if the street now belonged to it alone.

Stephan’s shadows coiled tighter around him.

"So... you’re the one who thinks he can touch what’s mine."he muttered.

She was lucky it didn’t hit her with its swords, Stephan thought, his gaze never leaving the towering Orc. And where the hell did it come from?

Yennefer’s grimoire snapped open, emerald light flaring between its pages as she prepared to strike.

"Don’t," Stephan said sharply. "It will kill you."

The words weren’t bravado, they were fact. Inside this dimension, the system was little more than a silent passenger, useless until an enemy was dead. It couldn’t identify rank or threat level, but Stephan didn’t need it to know. The sheer speed of the Orc’s attack, the force that had nearly shattered Anna Mary in one blow, this thing was no low-tier creature. High E... maybe D rank, he judged grimly.

He knelt, lowering Anna Mary to the ground with careful hands. "Take care of her, Yennefer."

"I can fight too..." Yennefer began, but the look on Stephan’s face stopped her cold. It was that same expression she had seen before, the one that promised violence, the one that had already become his signature.

"...Okay." She moved to Anna Mary’s side without another word.

Stephan stepped forward, eyes fixed on the Orc. "Come... Grief."

Crimson and black shadows poured from his body, writhing into the pale, armored form of Grief. Her long white hair lifted as if caught in a phantom wind, eyes locking immediately onto the threat before them.

"At your service, my lord," she said, bowing with flawless poise, though her gaze flickered to the Orc with a glint of cold recognition. "Is that an enemy, Lord Stephan?"

"Yes."

"Does his lordship require me to...."

"Thanks, Grief, but I’ll fight him myself," Stephan interrupted. "I summoned you for a different reason."

He gestured to where Anna Mary lay, her blood pooling slowly against the stone. "Go. Heal her."

"Yes, Lord Stephan." Grief bowed again, the faintest echo of a smile ghosting her lips before she turned and strode toward Yennefer, the air around her already shimmering with her spectral magic.

Stephan locked eyes with the predator. His blood stirred with anticipation. He hadn’t crossed blades with anyone since leaving the Abyssal Realm, and this Orc... this was the perfect chance to test his strength. He had expected a dumb brute. Something that roared, snarled, and swung until it died. That’s why the words caught him off guard.

"What are you?" the Orc rumbled, his voice deep and edged with suspicion. "You’re not an elf, are you?"

What is it talking about? Stephan frowned. An elf?

The Orc’s lips curled into a humorless grin. "Hah... of course you’re not. Your ears are too short, smaller than theirs. And you lack their hair..."

Stephan said nothing.

"You can’t be human," the Orc continued, a low, doubtful laugh rumbling from his chest. "Humans aren’t real, they’re myths. Nothing but campfire lies told to frighten cubs..." His laughter deepened, but there was hesitation in it now. "Unless... I’m losing my mind."

"I’m human," Stephan said flatly. "What you’re looking at... is a man in the flesh."

The Orc fell silent, his red eyes narrowing as he studied Stephan, then flicked toward the women tending Anna Mary. Slowly, he flexed the massive hand that had struck her. "I would call that impossible... but I just punched one of the myths. An actual human."

Stephan’s thoughts shifted sharply. Noctis, the Death God, had told them this world was filled only with corrupted souls, warped remnants of the dead. But so far, inside the Soul Maw, he hadn’t met phantoms or spirits. These weren’t souls, these were living creatures in the flesh. And they were far too real for this to be illusion magic. This wasn’t Salimi’s trickery.

"We’ve heard the tales," the Orc said, glancing at the broken bodies of his Bonehowlers. "Of how dangerous humans are. I was tracking a thieving Gnome... and instead, I find myself face-to-face with a legend."

"I never imagined ugly shit like you existed either," Stephan said coldly.

The Orc tilted his head, unfazed. "Tell me, human...where do you come from? How did you get here? Why are you here?"

"You ask too many questions, Orc." Stephan’s tone hardened. "I’m here to kill other humans. Instead, I’m stuck fighting bastards like you."

The Orc’s red eyes narrowed. "So there are more of you..." His voice deepened, the air around him almost vibrating. "The Great Chief will forget all about the thieving Gnome when I bring him back... a human. No... humans."

Gnome? Stephan’s eyebrow twitched. Did he just say a bloody gnome?

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "What the hell is this place?"

The Orc drove one of his massive blades into the cracked pavement, using it like a cane as he scratched his head. "You trespass in a place you don’t even understand? This is the Great City of Kareth’Zul. But questions can wait... I have to capture you and take you back to my Clan. Unlike me, they will be... astonished at my discovery."

"That’s not gonna happen," Stephan said, stepping forward. "You punched a friend of mine. Now you owe me....with your life."

The Orc’s laugh was high-pitched for his size, ringing unnervingly through the empty streets. "So humans have not only tiny bodies... but tiny brains as well."

His gaze sharpened like a drawn blade. "We could save ourselves some time if you simply hand over yourself and your companions. You are now my prisoners. The Great Chief might be merciful... might even grant you quick deaths. Resist me..." The Orc’s grip tightened around his weapon, his voice dropping into a growl. "...and I will make certain you beg for them."

Stephan exhaled slowly, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at his lips. "It’s always the biggest ones who think they’re the strongest. ’Bigger is better’... total bullshit," he muttered.

The Orc’s expression tightened, his already grotesque features twisting further with concentration. "Do you surrender, human?"

"I refuse," Stephan said, lifting the spectral sword, its edge humming with restrained violence.

"Very well then..." The Orc wrenched his massive blade from the ground in one smooth motion, the sound of steel grinding against stone echoing down the street. His stance shifted, feet digging into the cracked pavement. "Prepare yourself, human."

Grief knelt beside Anna Mary, her hands glowing with a black-and-crimson radiance. The light pulsed weakly against the wound, each wave of soul energy knitting the torn flesh slower than it should. In the human world, or even the Abyssal Realm, Anna Mary would already be stirring. Here, every heartbeat felt like a battle.

Her jaw tightened. She could feel her reserves, an ocean of power at her command, but it was like trying to force a river through a pinhole.

Yennefer’s voice cut in, sharp with impatience. "What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly gone weak and become useless."

Grief looked up, her eyes cold but measured. "It isn’t weakness. I can’t channel my power fully here. Something in this place... it’s strangling the flow of my soul energy."

Yennefer frowned, her grimoire’s pages fluttering as if sensing her unease. "Blocking you? Completely?"

"Not completely," Grief said, pressing harder against the wound as Anna Mary’s breathing grew shallower. "But enough that my healing is crawling instead of surging. It’s like the air here wants to smother anything born of soul power."

Yennefer’s eyes flicked toward Stephan and the Orc squaring off in the distance. Her stomach sank. "If this place can choke you... then it can choke him too."

"At this rate," Yennefer muttered, watching the Orc’s massive silhouette in the street ahead, "we’ll all be dead before we even get the chance to fight other players."

Grief’s gaze didn’t waver from Anna Mary’s wound, her hands glowing faintly as the sluggish healing continued. "Never doubt Lord Stephan," she said, her voice calm, almost reverent. "He never loses."

Yennefer’s lips twisted. "Confidence is cute. Overconfidence is a grave."

Grief finally looked at her, eyes gleaming like polished obsidian. "You misunderstand. This is not confidence. It is fact. Even if the heavens close against him and the abyss swallows his path, Lord Stephan finds a way."

Yennefer didn’t answer, but her fingers tightened on her grimoire. She wasn’t sure if that was loyalty speaking... or something far more dangerous.

The Orc’s massive shoulders rolled once, and then the twin blades began to spin in his hands, smooth, controlled arcs that blurred together until steel became a perfect, whirling circle of death.

The air howled around him, each rotation tearing through it with a rising, droning hum. Dust swirled at his feet. The sound deepened, heavier and hungrier, like the rotor of a war machine winding up for slaughter.

Stephan’s eyes narrowed. Even his Abyss-honed reflexes could barely follow the rhythm. This wasn’t just brute strength. This was precision.

Then the hum brokeshattered by a sharp, concussive whump as the Orc slammed off the cobblestone. The street cracked like brittle bone under the force, sending shards of stone skittering away.

He became a hurtling wall of muscle and steel, closing the distance in a blink.

The air between them vanished. And then impact.