CHAPTER 90: LEON VS ORC KING (1)

Leon killed the stragglers. He killed the last of the mutant beasts prowling the outskirts. By the time he was finished, there was no life left in the dungeon except him and one other.

The King.

The one final silhouette waiting in the distance.

Leon could feel it—the surge of power, the looming presence, the crushing aura. His body thrummed with anticipation. His fingers tightened around his daggers. His grin stretched, bloodstained and feral.

"I’m almost there," he whispered. "Just one more level. Just one last fight."

And then he saw him.

A familiar shadow. A massive figure, standing tall against the dying light of the savannah. The Orc King.

The final battle was about to begin.

Upon seeing the Orc’s silhouette, Leon grinned wide, his silver hair swaying slightly under the breeze of the savannah.

The distance between them closed slowly, deliberately. The Orc King rode his towering Mutant horse forward with the patience of a predator, and Leon, on the other side, walked calmly with both hands at his sides, his steps steady and unhurried. The ground itself seemed to groan under the weight of their killing intent.

Finally, they came face-to-face. The horse stamped, releasing a guttural snort of steam, while Leon’s cold gaze locked with the fiery eyes of the Orc King.

The air became heavy. Killing intent seeped out like poisonous mist. Bloodlust clashed against bloodlust, wrapping the space between them in invisible pressure that could crush weaker beings to their knees.

"I didn’t know you were so selfish," Leon said, summoning his crystalline daggers from his soul subspace. Their transparent blades glimmered faintly, hungry for blood. He twirled one lazily in his hand before pointing it straight at the King. "You knew I was right, but you pretended not to believe me. You struck me, then sent your Generals to their deaths—because you already knew I was stronger than them. You just didn’t want to stain your own hands."

The Orc King chuckled. Then he laughed louder. And louder. Until his manic voice rolled like thunder across the savannah. "Hahaha! You are wise, human. Wise indeed. But despite knowing my plan, you still killed them, didn’t you? Even if you tried avoiding them, those loyal brats would’ve still thrown themselves at you. That was the order I gave them." He jumped down from his horse, his massive frame landing heavily on the earth. "Solid plan, don’t you think? Why should I kill my own subordinates when you would do it for me? Hahaha!"

Leon’s brows twitched in disgust.

The King’s grin widened, exposing his sharp tusks. "You’ll never understand. Do you know how long I’ve waited? How long I’ve searched for a way out? I’ve been here for over a million years. A million! You can’t imagine it. Time itself bends strangely here, but even if I don’t age, the boredom... the endless fighting... the silence... they eat at you. And then you came along, slaughtering without hesitation, and your ’secret’ made sense."

The Orc King’s fiery red eyes glowed with madness. "Those Orcs you fought—they were born here. Mere younglings. Weaklings. I ruled above them, crushed beast after beast, clawed my way to the top of the food chain. But this place is filth compared to the thrill I know exists outside. Do you think I’ll let this chance slip past me now?"

Leon exhaled through his nose, daggers still spinning in his hands. "If I were in your shoes, maybe I’d do the same. But it’s still disgusting."

He tilted his head. "Were you the only one who got transported here? How did you reproduce? Don’t tell me you—"

The Orc cut him off with a dismissive wave. "You ask too many questions. But since you’ll die here, I’ll humor you." He sneered. "I wasn’t the only one. We were seven—four males, three females. We woke up in this hell together, surrounded by beasts and strange energy. At first, confusion consumed us. But survival forged us. We built a village, fought day and night, shed blood until our bones turned to steel. One by one, they all died. I alone survived."

For a brief moment, sorrow flickered across his features—memories of brothers and sisters-in-arms long gone. But it was drowned instantly by the burning fire of obsession.

"Today, all of that ends," he growled, tightening his grip on the gleaming spear. His aura surged outward violently, splitting the ground at his feet.

Leon narrowed his eyes. "One last question, then." His voice was calm, but his eyes were sharp. "Why do you even believe my words? Why are you so sure the secret is true?"

The Orc King charged forward, spear raised, his voice impatient and thunderous. "Why else were you butchering everything you saw? My subordinates said you slaughtered the villagers the moment you entered. When you revealed the secret, I understood—your rampage wasn’t meaningless. You were cutting your way out! That aligns perfectly with your claim!"

By the time he finished, he was already upon Leon, his spear sweeping in a deadly arc.

Leon barely dodged, pivoting with light steps before countering with a dagger slash. Sparks exploded as spear and dagger clashed, the impact shaking the air like a thunderclap.

’I should’ve known,’ Leon thought grimly, parrying another crushing blow. ’It was easy enough to guess. But right now, why should I even care? The real problem is... how do I defeat this monster quickly?’

He looked for an opening, but none came. The Orc King’s technique was flawless—every swing was domineering, every thrust like lightning. Leon found himself on the defensive, forced back again and again. His daggers rang out with each block, his arms vibrating with the weight of the King’s blows.

If Leon dared to attack recklessly, he would take a direct spear strike—and even with his mana barrier, that would cripple him.

"Daggers..." The Orc King snarled mid-battle, his eyes narrowing with contempt. "Daggers are nothing but toys. Small blades for small men. Why would you ever choose such pitiful weapons?"

"Daggers have no limitations," Leon shot back between parries. His feet slid across the dirt, sparks flying as his blades met the spear again and again. "It all depends on the wielder’s expertise. In the right hands, daggers can kill gods."

"Daggers have no limitations, you say?" The King’s killing intent erupted to a terrifying new level, suffocating the air. His eyes glowed brighter—red like molten lava. His voice thundered like an oath from hell. "Then let me show you the true limitations of your pathetic blades!"

The ground shook as his bloodline awakened. His aura expanded violently, a storm of raw power radiating outward. The earth beneath him cracked, dust and debris exploding into the air. His eyes burned crimson, glowing like twin suns of rage. His veins pulsed, muscles bulging larger than before. With his armor gleaming under the blood-red glow, and his spear thrumming with energy, he looked less like a warrior and more like a demon god descended from hell itself.

Leon gulped, sweat dripping down his chin. His instincts screamed at him in warning. "Tch... he’s activated his bloodline."

The pressure that now bore down on him was suffocating. He had no idea how long he could last against this overwhelming force.

But still—his grip on the daggers tightened, and a grin tugged at his lips.

"Fine then," Leon muttered, eyes burning with resolve. "Let’s see whose ’limitations’ break first."

The Orc dashed forward in a blur, his massive frame cutting through the savannah like a raging storm, and swooped his spear at Leon with frightening speed.

His strength and speed had increased by leaps and bounds—his movements sharper, heavier, deadlier.

Leon’s pupils shrank. He could tell from the sheer speed and swiftness of the strike that dodging would be impossible. His instincts screamed at him. He gritted his teeth and made the decision to block it head-on.

The moment his daggers clashed against the glowing spear, a deafening clang exploded across the battlefield. The force behind the strike was monstrous. Leon felt his arms tremble violently, his bones vibrating as if they would snap. His palms went numb instantly, and his chest jolted with pain before he was sent flying backwards like a broken kite.

The world spun. His body crashed through the air.

The Orc King didn’t give him a chance to breathe. With murderous intent in his eyes, he chased after Leon, his colossal frame moving like a phantom. He would not allow Leon the luxury of steadying himself.

But Leon wasn’t willing to die crushed against a tree. His instincts roared. At the very last instant, he activated Mana Jet, blasting energy under his feet to levitate and slow his fall. His body steadied midair just before he would have slammed into the thick trunk of a baobab tree.

If he had hit it directly, his body would have been nothing but a bag of shattered bones.

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