CHAPTER 73: LEON VS ORCS

Leon’s response was swift. His steel claws gleamed as he cut them down mercilessly—one throat slit, one chest torn open. Their bodies dropped heavily to the dirt.

He stepped over them and approached the king’s body, which was already breaking into dissolving pixels. From the fading corpse, he retrieved two crystalline twin daggers strapped to the king’s waist.

At the same time, two heavy pouches dropped with a clink—the weight of gold coins unmistakable.

Leon scooped them up, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Now all that was left was the crowd.

The villagers were already waiting at the market square, gathered for their king.

Perfect.

---

Minutes later, a boy of about seventeen, tall and strong, stood in the middle of the marketplace. In each hand gleamed a crystalline dagger. His smile was twisted, villainous.

"I know you’re innocent," he said coldly, his voice carrying across the square, "but sorry... I need to kill you to level up."

When the slaughter was over, Leon stood among the fading corpses of hundreds of goblins. The ground was stained with blood, the air thick with the stench of death.

"Phew! Level 20 already," Leon exhaled, exhaustion mixed with triumph. "Now I just need to hunt down some forest creatures to ascend."

The goblins had not simply let themselves be killed. Many had attacked, rushing at him with crude blades and claws. Others had fled in terror. But none had survived.

And among the dead, Leon had discovered the truth.

The Goblin King had been the dungeon’s boss.

But there had also been another—a powerful goblin hiding among the villagers. When Leon cut him down, the system revealed his identity: the village head, second in command.

Leon hadn’t known until that moment. Another surprise, another kill.

---

Leaving the village, Leon entered the forest once more.

He hunted ruthlessly.

Some beasts were familiar—creatures that reminded him of his homeland. But others were strange, alien in form. Among the strangest were the slimes—living, gelatinous creatures that slithered across the ground.

They proved to be the deadliest. Their slime was corrosive and poisonous, burning through weapons and flesh alike.

By the time Leon finished his hunt, he was covered in wounds, his body aching from countless battles.

Collapsing onto the ground, he pulled out an elixir. With only a single drop, warmth spread through his body, sealing cuts, easing the pain, restoring his strength.

He let out a long sigh, but the relief didn’t last.

A familiar notification appeared before his eyes.

┏━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━┓

You have 30 seconds to get out of this dungeon!

TIME: 30 sec

┗━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━┛

Leon’s eyes scanned the clearing frantically until he spotted it—the vortex shimmering in the distance.

With a sigh, he forced himself up and sprinted toward it.

’I wasn’t even given time to check the reward for assassinating the Goblin King... Damn it.’

He leapt into the vortex.

The world around him vanished into black.

---

When his vision returned, Leon found himself standing in an entirely different place.

He scanned his surroundings carefully.

The land stretched like an endless savannah. Tall grasses swayed in the dry wind, shrubs dotted the landscape, and scattered trees stood alone beneath the merciless sun.

The heat was oppressive, suffocating.

Even with the strength of a supreme human, sweat rolled down his body, his chest rising and falling heavily.

The first thing he did was drag himself beneath the shade of a tree.

"What now!" he roared in anger, his voice raw. "Damn it all!"

This place irritated him, gnawed at his patience.

But then he froze.

Voices.

Incomprehensible whispers. The crunch of heavy footsteps through the grass.

His body tensed instantly. He dropped low into a shrub, hiding himself.

From the concealment of the tall grass, he watched.

It didn’t take long before they appeared—seven strange humanoid creatures, walking in a line, talking loudly with arrogance in their tone.

Their skin was grayish, their bodies massive and muscular, their faces twisted with porcine features. Lower canines jutted out like boar tusks. Coarse hair sprouted from their bodies, and their postures were hunched, primal.

But one among them was different—larger, stronger, his ears pointed like those of a wolf, almost elven in shape.

They were roughly human-sized, but heavier, broader, standing six feet to six-and-a-half feet tall, weighing easily more than two hundred pounds.

Leon recognized them instantly. His eyes narrowed, his fists clenched tight with suppressed fury.

’What!? Now I have to fight orcs!?’

---

Leon was a little depressed, but he didn’t think too much about it.

Back in his native home, Hearth, orcs were one of the mutant alien creatures that emerged from unstable rifts and dungeons.

They were widely known and feared for one thing—their sheer strength.

Orcs were not creatures to be trifled with, and Leon was certain that just like the goblins in the last dungeon, these orcs must also have their own local village.

Out of the millions of humanoid and intelligent races in the universe, orcs were among the few that carried a brutally straightforward personality.

They relied on brute force in every situation, whether it was war, survival, or settling disputes.

They were prideful and arrogant, always seeing other creatures and races as inferior. Hot-blooded to the core, they loved war and treated it as the best opportunity to subdue rivals.

It was rare to find an orc who wasn’t easily enraged.

But in exchange for this reckless nature, they were made into extremely powerful monsters. Their strength ranked among the top fifty in the countless humanoid races scattered across the universe.

There were other races with similar temperaments: the Minotaur race, the Tyrant Bulls, and many other bull-type humanoids. Even the Dragon race shared some similarities, though dragons were not as blinded by anger, possessing more restraint despite their pride.

Most orcs preferred axes, disdaining daggers. Small blades didn’t look domineering enough for their taste. An orc using a dagger was rarer than rare.

Meanwhile, Leon watched silently from the brush as the group of orcs passed by.

They chatted loudly, careless and arrogant, their guttural voices carrying across the savannah without fear of being heard.

Leon exhaled quietly before following them, careful to make no sound.

From the direction they were heading, he decided this was the perfect chance. If he was lucky, their village might even lie along the same path. But first—he had to deal with them here and now.

With a burst of speed, Leon launched a sneak attack. He targeted the weakest orc at the rear of the group, thrusting his crystalline dagger with the intent to kill in a single strike.

But to his shock, the blade barely left more than a minor injury.

His eyes widened. The wound was shallow, blood trickling, but nowhere near lethal.

The orcs turned slowly. They wore only rags, barely covering their lower bodies. The strongest among them stood out with a crude headband tied tightly around his forehead, giving him a slightly more intimidating presence.

But what unsettled Leon was not their appearance—it was their durability.

Unwillingly accepting this reality, he focused as a system window appeared before his eyes.

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

NORMAL ORC

LVL 24

HP: 1890

─────⋅☾ Stats ☽⋅─────•

Strength: 344

Stamina: 258

Agility: 172

Defense: 325

Intelligence: 26

┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛

Even though their intelligence was laughably low, Leon still felt his chest tighten at the raw numbers.

Their strength, stamina, and defense alone made up for their lack of speed and wit, turning them into terrifying opponents.

The orcs’ small eyes burned with anger as they brandished their massive axes.

"What should I do!?... What should I do!?" Leon muttered under his breath, flipping backward as one of the axes slashed where he had just been standing.

The orcs grunted in frustration, annoyed by his evasiveness.

"Should I run... or face them head-on?" Leon thought. His mind raced, but he knew the answer.

Running was useless. He would encounter this group again if he went after their village later—and by then, he would be up against an even larger force.

No. Better to finish them here and now.

He gritted his teeth, eyes flashing. He also wanted to finally check the rewards he had earned from the last dungeon.

Decision made, Leon resolved to use gravity and flight to his advantage.

Mana flared through his body as he activated Mana Flight. His body lifted smoothly off the ground, drawing shocked looks from the orcs below.

The orcs shouted at him, cursing in their guttural tongue, convinced he was fleeing. They waved their axes and sneered, shouting incomprehensible insults.

They believed he was escaping.

But Leon wasn’t escaping.

In a heartbeat, he angled himself and shot forward, propelled by Mana Jet, his speed increasing dramatically as he aimed directly for the leader.

His grin widened.

’Your pride will be your downfall. You thought the shallow injury I gave the weakest one was my limit... I’ll show you otherwise. This will be your last lesson in this life.’

The leader, walking carelessly at the front, finally turned at his subordinates’ urgent shouts.