CHAPTER 38: STEPHAN’S WHIP LASH

"I don’t think a human can survive that," the Orc said, glancing at the rubble. "He should’ve listened and surrendered... Hmm. He tried, though, managed to land a hit, even if it was shallow."

He turned toward Yennefer, Grief, and Anna Mary. "Now... how many of you are left? Will you fight, or surrender?"

Neither Yennefer nor Grief answered. Grief didn’t even look up, her hands still glowing as she worked to mend Anna Mary’s wounds.

"Come on," the Orc pressed. "You don’t want to die like your friend, do you?"

"You really should focus on your opponent," Grief said calmly. "Don’t start making excuses about being caught off guard... when you lose."

The Orc froze mid-step, every instinct screaming. From behind him, he felt a dark soul energy, thick and cold, curling through the air like smoke.

"Really?" he muttered, disbelief threading his voice.

[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]

[Temporary Buff Activated]

[Predator’s Instinct – Duration: 3 Minutes]

The rubble shifted. Shadows leaked from the gaps between the fallen stones, writhing like living things before bursting outward in a rush of pressure.

Stephan rose from the debris, black-crimson shadows coiling tight around his frame, his eyes burning like molten steel.

"Hey, Orc..." His voice was low, lethal. "Don’t write me off yet."

He took a step forward, the air warping with the force gathering around him. "Did you ever really think you could beat me?"

"Nobody can win but me," Stephan said, a dark chuckle rumbling in his throat.

Are humans... this strong? The first sliver of doubt slid into the Orc’s mind. He survived... but how? I hit him with my signature move.

Humans were supposed to be powerless, dangerous only because of their intelligence and cunning. So why is this one matching me blow for blow? Why does he have strength that rivals mine?

The Orc slowly raised his massive swords, his tusked grin fading into something harder. "You just don’t want to die, do you? Fine..." His voice dropped into a growl. "I’ll make sure you stay dead this time."

A streak of black tore through the air, the sound trailing it like a ripping shroud. Stephan moved, no, he vanished, only to reappear behind the Orc in less than a heartbeat, spectral blade already raised in the aftermath of the strike.

The Orc’s instincts screamed too late. He jerked his head aside, feeling the whisper of cold steel graze past. For a breath, nothing happened.

Then...CRACK!

A jagged shard of horn tumbled through the air in slow motion, spinning end over end before clattering to the ground. The Orc froze, one massive hand rising to his head in disbelief. His fingertips met the raw, splintered edge where his left horn had been. "Huh?" His voice trembled with shock, quickly turning to rage. "You... broke my horn!"

Stephan clicked his tongue. "Tsk... missed." He turned his head just enough for the Orc to see the shadowed grin. "I was aiming for the head."

"He’s... faster," Yennefer breathed, her eyes darting to follow the blur that was Stephan. "I barely kept up."

"That’s just a fraction of what he can do," Grief replied without looking away from Anna Mary. "I told you, he won’t lose."

Yennefer’s gaze lingered on Stephan, a small frown tugging at her lips. I wouldn’t stand a chance against him... No wonder he hadn’t bothered to fight her himself back in the alley, sending Grief in his place instead. The gap between them was obvious now, chasm-wide.

A ragged, wet groan escaped Anna Mary. Her skin was pale, slick with sweat, and blood seeped steadily through the torn fabric over her ribs, soaking Grief’s hands. Each shallow breath made her chest shudder

"She’s hurting," Grief said, frustration seeping into her voice. "My power is barely helping. We could lose her."

In another moment, Yennefer might have welcomed the thought, Anna Mary’s death would have been convenient. But not here. Not now. If they were outnumbered, they wouldn’t survive the other players... let alone the creatures of this cursed realm.

"Try everything you can," Yennefer said at last, her tone cold but edged with urgency. "She can’t die... not yet."

...

"Hey....HEY, HEY!" the Orc roared, voice shaking with rage. "Not my horn! No, no, no! Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?"

Stephan tilted his head, frowning. "Uh... yeah? I cut it. Obviously."

"You’ll die for this," the Orc snarled, his voice cracking with a strange mix of fury and panic. "Our horns are sacred! No female will want me now....no one mates with a one-horned Orc!"

Stephan blinked, then let out a low, unimpressed groan. "Ohhh, so that’s the big deal? Should’ve let me take your whole head instead....problem solved."

The Orc’s eyes went bloodshot, his grip tightening on his blades. "I’LL MURDER YOU!" he bellowed, surging forward in a blur of black and crimson rage.

The Orc charged, rage twisting his face into something almost inhuman, both swords swinging wildly as he closed the distance in a single thunderous stomp.

The first blade came in from the right, Stephan had already stepped past it, the swing cutting nothing but air. The second followed immediately, a vicious horizontal slash meant to bisect him at the waist, but Stephan was gone again, a blur of black and crimson sliding just outside the arc of the strike. The blade caught only the trailing edges of his shadow.

The Orc roared, pivoting and swinging again, faster this time, wide, reckless cuts driven by fury rather than technique. Stephan’s eyes remained calm, cold. He ducked beneath one swing, twisted around another, allowing both attacks to pass by him with inches to spare.

"You can do better," Stephan said in a low voice, his movements fluid and almost lazy in contrast to the Orc’s savage frenzy.

The Orc snarled, muscles bulging as he brought both blades crashing down in an overhead strike. But before steel could touch stone, Stephan flickered forward, disappearing beneath the swing like a shadow slipping out of the light.

He reappeared at the Orc’s side. The spectral blade flashed. It passed cleanly through the Orc’s ribs, so fast the eye couldn’t follow. For an instant, there was no sound.

Then the slice caught up.

A wet, delayed shhrkkk split the air, followed by a spray of dark blood fanning across the cracked stone. The Orc staggered backward, shock frozen in his red eyes before the pain finally reached him.

"GRAAAAHHHH!"

The scream tore from his throat, raw, animal, full of outrage and agony, as he clutched at the gash carving across his side, blood pouring between his fingers.The Orc snarled through the pain and lunged again, rage overriding caution. He swung his blade in a desperate, wide arc .

"Give up," Stephan whispered.

A second silver-black flash cut across the air. The Orc’s right forearm separated cleanly at the elbow. For a heartbeat, it stayed attached only by momentum, and then dropped to the ground with a dull thud, still gripping the sword in its severed fingers.

The Orc stared at the empty stump in disbelief as blood geysered across the street.

"Am I... going to die?"

The thought echoed in the orc’s mind as he stared at Stephan. Killed by a human? Shame burned in his chest as bitterly as the pain. Did I fail the Great Orc Clan? Did I disappoint the Moon Guardian Chief? I haven’t even found that thieving gnome yet... and now I’m dying at the hands of a human.

The orc spat blood into the dirt and forced himself to speak.

"This isn’t over, human," he growled weakly. "The Moon Guardian Chief will hunt you down and make you suffer... just like you did to my Bonehowlers."

"Shut up." Stephan’s voice was filled with dark amusement. He leaned closer, his lips curling into a sinister grin. "I’m not done chopping you into pieces just yet... there’s something I’ve been wanting to try. And you," he paused, lifting his blade and letting it glint in the dying light, "are the perfect specimen."

Now... how did Grief do it in the Abyssal Realm? Stephan closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. Did she channel a portion of her soul into the blade... or let it flow through it?

He gathered a thread of his own soul energy and pushed it into the sword. Instantly, black and crimson currents hissed across the steel, swirling like liquid shadows before flaring into black fire. The air trembled, drawn inward as though the blade itself were inhaling.

The flames coiled along the edge, then surged outward, twisting into a jagged whip of soul-fire. Stephan snapped his wrist.

The whip shot forward in a blur, stretching in a heartbeat. With a deafening crack, the azure-black flame ripped across the air, too fast for the eye to follow.The crack of the soul-flame whip split the battlefield like a thunderclap.

The orc barely had time to lift his head.

The black flame struck him square in the chest. For a heartbeat, he remained frozen, eyes wide, fangs bared in shock, then the whip detonated in a burst of blistering soul-fire. The orc’s massive frame arched violently as the flames wrapped around him, searing through flesh and armor alike in twisting bands of black and blue.

He tried to scream... but no sound came out.

His body quivered...and then collapsed forward with a dull thud, smoke rising from the charred crater in his chest. The black flames flickered once more, then faded, leaving only the scent of burned iron and ash in the air.

Grief drew in a sharp breath. Her eyes widened.

"That technique..." she murmured, fingers tightening around the hilt of her scythe. "He actually pulled it off." For a moment, emotion flickered across her normally impassive face, equal parts surprise and... pride.

....

Stephan lowered his blade, exhaling slowly as the last remnants of soul-flame evaporated from the steel.

He didn’t look up. He could feel her gaze on him. And deep in the hollow of his chest... the faintest whisper of a smile formed.

[SYSTEM ALERT]

[Target Eliminated: Moon Guardian Orc]

[Classification: Tier-D Elite Combatant]

[Designation: Vanguard of the Moon Guardian Clan]

[Description: The Moon Guardian Orcs are elite warriors chosen from birth and trained under the rites of the Moon Guardian Chief. Unlike common warpack orcs, they possess enhanced soul-resilience and the ability to channel lunar-aligned energy through their weapons. Though still brutal in combat, their discipline and tactical awareness far exceed that of normal orcs. Each one carries a blood oath to track and eliminate any threat to the Clan, even if that means crossing dimensional boundaries to do so.]

"Well... this information will come in handy if I ever have to face more creatures like him," Stephan muttered, studying the glowing system readout as it faded from the air.

Ding!

[CONGRATULATIONS – SYSTEM LEVEL 7 UNLOCKED]

[RANK: D – ADEPT]

[SOUL ENERGY CAP INCREASED-180]

Only three more levels until I reach Level 10, huh? Stephan thought as the last traces of soul-energy coiled back into his core. A cap of 180... not bad at all.

"Stephan!"

Yennifer’s voice broke through his thoughts. He glanced over, her expression alone made his stomach tighten. She didn’t need to say anything else... but she did.

"Anna Mary is dying."