CHAPTER 86: REVELATION

The crowd of Orc soldiers and villagers fell dead silent. Their guttural cheers were cut off in shock, eyes widening as they watched the monster they had come to fear—this human who had butchered dozens of them—stagger back, shrieking in pain.

"IT FUCKING HURTS!" Leon bellowed, his voice cracking the air. He grimaced, clutching the wound with his other hand, trying to stem the blood flow. His face contorted in rage, veins bulging against his temple.

The Orc that injured him grinned. A smug, twisted grin of triumph.

It was a spar, but it had abandoned the rules. And it didn’t care. To Orcs, pride was everything. And at this moment, it felt proud—prouder than ever before. It had scarred the monster. It had shown its brothers what none of them could do.

Leon saw that grin. That mocking pride. And something inside him snapped.

"You..." his voice was hoarse, thick with hate. "I’ll make you regret this. I’ll carve that grin off your fucking face!"

But his body betrayed him. His stamina had plummeted, his vision blurred. He couldn’t fight like this. He knew if he stayed, he’d lose—not just the spar, but everything. So with a snarl, Leon broke away, sprinting toward the crowd.

The audience, shocked by his bloodied state, instinctively parted before him. Orc warriors and civilians alike shuffled back, their cheers turning to whispers. For a moment, they almost looked... afraid again. Afraid of the bloodied, snarling human tearing past them.

Leon stumbled into the shadows behind the crowd, activating Conceal. His form shimmered and blurred until he vanished from their sight. The generals tailing him—obviously ordered to spy by their king—froze in confusion. They hadn’t even bothered to hide themselves, their pride unwilling to stoop to something as "shameful" as stealth. But now, their arrogance worked against them.

They panicked when Leon disappeared. Their eyes darted wildly, axes clutched tight, until they suddenly spotted him again—reappearing some meters away, as if he had always been there.

What they didn’t know was that in the brief span of concealment, Leon had already pulled out the jade-colored bottle. He popped the cork with trembling fingers, downed a single drop, and watched in awe as the wound knitted itself together. Muscle reformed, bone fused, skin sealed. In seconds, his hand was whole again, though his clothes were still soaked in blood, hiding the miracle from his enemies.

Leon flexed his healed fingers and smirked. Phase One complete. Now for Phase Two.

His eyes burned with vengeful fire. That Orc who had grinned at him—the one who had broken the rules—was as good as dead.

When he emerged from the shadows and walked back toward the Orc King, his gait was steady. His body, though splattered with blood, looked unbroken. The generals watching clenched their jaws in disbelief.

Leon ignored them. He ignored their stares, their pride. All his focus was on the king.

"I want food," he said flatly, as though nothing had happened.

The Orc King studied him in silence, perhaps curious how he was standing whole after losing half his hand moments ago. But he gave no comment. He simply motioned, and Leon was led to a long open table surrounded by heavy wooden chairs.

Laid across it were fruits—bright, glowing, saturated with mana. Apples that shimmered with faint golden light. Berries that pulsed like tiny crystals. Grapes exuding steam.

"Mutated fruits," Leon muttered, his eyes narrowing as he recognized them.

Back on Hearth, animals weren’t the only ones that evolved. Plants too, through blood, Qi, and beast essence, became twisted into "mutant fruits." The difference here was obvious—the fruits before him didn’t hold Qi, but mana. Thick, dense mana that almost hummed in the air.

His stomach growled at the sight, reminding him he hadn’t eaten in nearly two days. For the first time in hours, a crooked smile crept onto Leon’s lips.

’Fine,’ he thought. ’I’ll eat with them. Then I’ll finish this game. One way or another.’

A boy with silver hair could be seen at the long wooden table, his jaw moving furiously as he devoured a heap of berries, grapes, and glowing fruits piled before him. He ate with no care for manners, no thought of elegance. Juice dribbled from the corner of his lips, staining his chin red like blood. He tore into the food like a starving beast.

Why should he care? He was the only human in this cursed dungeon. The only human surrounded by Orcs who glared daggers at him. And, without a doubt, the hungriest being within miles.

And of course, he had the right to be—Leon was the only one here who had been fighting non-stop for two whole days. Two days without sleep. Two days without food. Two days of constant battle, blood, and near-death. His stomach felt like a raging inferno. His body screamed for fuel. Even the brutal training of the most hardened S.W.A.T soldiers back on Hearth might not compare to what he had endured.

The Orcs around him—generals who had trained for decades—ate slowly, chewing with discipline. Their movements were controlled, ritualistic. Compared to them, Leon looked like a savage unleashed, swallowing fruits by the handful.

He didn’t care. He shoved another handful of glowing berries into his mouth, chewing loudly, his throat working furiously as the sweet mana-rich juice slid down into his starved body. Every bite sent a rush of vitality through him, every swallow made his blood pump harder.

Inside, a plan was already forming in his head. I only have an hour and a few minutes left to finish this dungeon... I need to move fast. Those bastards outside must be waiting for me. Hehe... I’m coming, boys. I can’t wait to steal your skills, rip into your techniques, and suck your damn Qi reserves dry until I level up again.

His lips curled slowly, stretching into a dark, villainous grin. His silver eyes gleamed dangerously in the firelight.

Several Orc generals who were watching froze, shuddering despite themselves. The grin was not that of a boy—it was the smile of a devil. Their thick skin prickled with unease, as though they were staring at something far worse than a monster.

Leon, sensing their gazes burning into him, blinked. He awkwardly wiped the juice from his mouth with his wrist and snapped back into his "hungry beast" act, lowering his head and resuming his wild eating. It was almost comical—like watching a devil suddenly pretend to be a starving beggar.

The Orc generals shared uneasy glances, some shifting uncomfortably in their seats. The aura that had leaked from him just moments ago still lingered, gnawing at their nerves.

When Leon’s hunger dulled enough to think clearly, he licked the last of the berry juice from his fingers and leaned back slightly. He raised his eyes toward the Orc King, finally voicing the question that had been burning in his mind.

"So," he said through a mouth still sticky with fruit pulp, "tell me. How did you guys get transported here? And how the hell are you able to speak and understand human language?"

The tent fell quiet. The generals’ chewing slowed to a stop. The crackle of torches outside became the loudest sound.

The Orc King’s fiery gaze locked onto Leon. He was silent for a long moment, as if deciding whether to answer. Then, with a deep voice that rumbled like rolling thunder, he spoke.

"Out of all the Orcs in my kingdom, I am the only one who knows how to speak your human tongue. My generals... my subordinates... they cannot speak it, though they can understand it. As for how I came to learn..." He paused, his expression tightening. "Your language is not new to me. It is but the evolved form of the language of the Ancient Human Cultivators."

Leon’s brows furrowed. "Ancient Human Cultivators?"

"You do not know of them!?" the Orc King’s voice cracked like a whip, his face twisting in disbelief. His generals, too, frowned as if Leon had just uttered the most idiotic words in existence. "Are you not human!? How could you not know of your ancestors!?"

Leon gave a half-shrug, pretending indifference. "I’ve heard the name. I’m asking how you came to meet them."

The King’s eyes narrowed, but he continued. "Simple. We shared boundaries with you humans. Back on the Great Blue Planet... before we ascended."

Leon blinked, feigning confusion. "Ascended? What do you mean by ascending?"

The King’s disbelief turned to scorn. "You don’t know what it is to ascend!? Truly ignorant! Truly disgraceful!" His fist clenched, making the wooden armrest beneath him creak. "Ascension is the breaking of one’s gene... the transformation into the Superior self of one’s race. The first stage is evolution—mutation. It is when a being first learns to harness energy. Qi, for example." His voice dropped lower, eyes flashing with an old memory. "I once thought Qi was the only energy in existence. But when I was dragged into this prison, my Qi reserves were swapped... replaced by this unknown force. This... mana."