Chương 18: Brutality

I slip through the wooden door and close it, dropping all of my stuff on the ground. With a sigh, I follow and plop down against the wall. Without hesitation, I pull a pouch of jerky out and begin chewing on it. It's shit. It's bland, tasteless, tough, and textured like it was made out of a tendon. But I still smile when I take a bite. Not just because protein is fuel for the body and my recovery, but because it represents the risks I took and the reward I received for it.

I wave my hand lazily in a circle while chewing.

"Let's see it, system" [You have slain Orc(lv. 10) - (lv. 11) x2] [Partial experience granted x4] [Tamer(lv. 7) > (lv. 8)] [Human(lv. 7) > (lv. 8)] [You have discovered a reward] [Accept(11) / Bank / Consolidate] Nothing special this time. I tap consolidate while I continue to chew on the tough meat. How many rooms were saved up when I got my gauntlets? I think it was about five or six.

In addition, the system said that rooms have more valuable rewards the further I go, so if I click accept next time, is there a chance I get something magical? I smile as I daydream. Maybe a pair of boots that make me jump higher? Or perhaps a potion that increases my stats? Oh yeah, Status. [Vitality: 16 > 18] [Strength: 14] [Agility: 17] [Endurance: 14] [Fortitude: 14 > 17] [Intelligence: 12] [Wisdom: 17 > 18] [Perception: 23 > 24] [Unassigned: 1] Dang, going all in on survivability this time.

Three points in fortitude and one in vitality. Since the distribution is mostly based on past experiences and personal desire, I'd say that the blade trap did quite a bit to influence it. Health. [Health: 255(170)] I'm still missing a large chunk of my health, but with every increase of vitality and fortitude, the injuries decrease. I pull up my pant leg and look at the blade wound. The recovery has been sped up by several days. I can't see under the scab, but I assume the skin and bone are looking far better now.

I smile manically.

"Which means I can fight again." I'm a little unnerved by how willing I've become to fight. The combination of instant progression and the removal of the only real deterrent is the source. That deterrent, being pain. When the pain of being pierced an inch deep with an arrow is reduced to the sting of a bee, I become a lot more willing to take them to achieve victory. Though that's probably not a good mindset to hold when fighting.

As evidenced by my health bar, which hasn't been full the entire time I've been in the dungeon, I should probably change something. My brows furrow. Or I could get my hands on that damn healing skill. Ever since I saw it, I couldn't stop imagining how much faster my progress would be with it. That skill is stuck in my mind every single second I spend not fighting. Reducing weeks of recovery down to days, hours or even minutes will be a game changer. Not sure how good it will be, but still. Status.

I pop my one free point into vitality, hoping to further speed up my recovery. The familiar well of life opens inside me, and I bask in the sensation of my body losing its weakness and my wounds recovering. The sensation fades faster every single time. It's similar to meth in that I need more of it to feel the same thing. My core stats growing simply makes every individual point less impactful. My eyes gravitate towards my leg again.

Not sure how healing is distributed on level up, but I hope it's focusing on the bone. It's the only thing still keeping me from fighting. Health. [Health: 265(180)] I chuckle. My health was at 135 when I first entered the dungeon. Even when moderately injured, I'm apparently still far further from death compared to when I was healthy and unleveled.

"System, even though you ripped apart the planet and probably killed billions of people, I still thank you for the gift you have given me" With slight expectancy, hope combines with bated breath. No response. I sigh and lean my head against the wall. It's only been an hour or two since I last slept. Meditation is most likely the best option at this point, but I frankly hate doing it. Also, it feels like it's leading nowhere.

I only assume meditation eventually awakens mana because that's how it works in books and shows. But there's a chance that there's an entirely different way to it, and that I just don't understand how yet. In that case, all of the meditation thus far would have been pointless. I moan in despair and rub my eyes. Well, I only scouted one room and cleared it anyway, so I might as well get back to it. With a grunt, I stand up and grab the gauntlets and shield that I just finished carrying back to base meaninglessly.

The door creaks as I push it open. Just scouting this time. Absolutely no fighting. Unless there is another conveniently placed trap. Or if the enemies are weak. Or if I naturally counter them. Damn, I really want to fight. Beaten sneakers slap quietly against the cobblestone as I make my way through the deathly silent hallway. When living in modern society, it's easy to shut out and ignore all of the noise you hear on a daily basis. The dungeon truly helps me understand that. You could be reading stolen content.

Head to the original site for the genuine story. No neighbour mowing their lawn. No honking or tires screeching in the distance. No constant air conditioner or fans in the background. Just silence. Just enough silence to hear my heartbeat and breathing. Even when I try to breathe silently, I can still barely hear it. It must be the combination of no other sounds and my increased perception. After walking for a few moments, I make it to the intersection I was at before.

I set my weapons down and slink down the narrower hallway, still keeping an eye out for any loose traps I didn't see before. Partway through, I slip through the small forest of poles in the hallway. My steps slow to a stop, and I reach down, removing a knee guard from one of the orc's corpses. Unexpectedly, it's difficult to equip and sits awkwardly on me. I suppose the orcs having more than double my leg size is making it unusable. The shoulder guards would be inaccessible for the same reason.

Only hobgoblin armor for me, I guess. I continue forward, ignoring the first doorway and continuing past it. My eyes stay glued to the floor as I move. The system mentioned that traps would increase in difficulty as I moved on, and the last tripwire was already almost impossible to see. The rest of the trip is uneventful. A dead end eventually comes into sight alongside a single doorway in the wall. I slink up to the edge of the doorway, my steps becoming quieter the closer I get.

Familiar orc voices grace my ear as I straddle the edge of the doorway. My head just barely peeks past the edge to see inside. Identify living being [Orc lv. 12] [Orc lv. 13] [Identify Living Being(lv. 2) > (lv. 3)] Aside from the pleasant skill level up, nothing inside the room is different from the previous. Two orcs sitting across from each other, with the same rusted scimitars and the same equipment. It seems that this section of the dungeon follows a pattern.

Each branching hallway has two rooms that are similar to each other, with the enemies becoming more powerful the further the branch is from the tutorial area. I pull my head back and gulp, understanding what I just saw. Two enemies, both stronger than the boss of the tutorial, both with better weapons and gear. All the orcs I've killed so far have been killed with some kind of advantage. The first cost me the usability of my right arm for a couple of days. The next two were killed by using a convenient trap.

The sight of the first orc's blow resounds in my mind as I think about the two in front of me. Getting hit like that with a weapon that sharp will almost certainly kill me, or at least cost me a limb, increased vitality and fortitude be damned. Not to mention, the weapons are far more nimble than the awkward spiked club of the first orc. Abusing the reach advantage will be impossible this time. Even if I block with my gauntlet, I'm still liable to receive a disabled arm purely from the impact of the strike.

My only chance is to avoid or deflect every single swing. A manoeuvre that I'm not comfortable with in the least. Will my commanded body even be capable of such a thing? Under the right command, I've seen my body do things out of my wildest dreams and expectations. But this will be really testing the limits. I chew on my cheek for several minutes as I think. Every scenario I go through, I just can't see myself winning.

Blocking them from exiting the room and bottlenecking around the door could work, and would also make it harder for them to swing. But all they would have to do is push past me with their heft or just not exit, and I would be screwed. I could… no. Maybe I could run in and… Nah, that would be stupid. Mulling through different plans, I find that all of them end in death. After thinking for a few minutes, my eyes widen, and a smile grows on my face. That's it! It's so obvious! I can't believe I didn't see it before!

My eyes close and my breathing slows as I prepare my next command.

"Kevin, focus on the fight, don't feel pain, punch as hard as you can without injuring yourself and avoid or deflect all attacks" Errant thoughts leave me, confirming that the command is working. With a deep breath, I begin. My gauntlet comes up, knocking against the metal cell door with a clang. My heart rate rises in a controlled manner in response to the command. Both of the orcs stop mid-sentence and begin standing up.

My body shifts as I work in tandem with the command to correct my posture, pulling my fist back. My ears tingle as I hear the scraping of swords being lifted from the stone floor. The command erases nervousness and fear, leaving only determined anticipation. The door opens, and a flash of green steps through. My fist is already moving, extending out from the side and making contact. The spikes catch and carve three thick grooves in the orc's left side. The orc grunts in pain and raises its sword, its arm tensing.

My nerves tighten, and I twist, just barely evading the swing. Holy shit! My reaction time is insane! I turn on the balls of my feet and begin sprinting away from the orcs. The first one only looks in disbelief for a second before the one behind it pushes it into the hallway. They gather their bearings quickly and begin sprinting after me. A smile forms on my face as I hear the hefty slaps of their feet against the stone. The chase only lasts for a couple of minutes before my safe haven comes into sight.

The forest of metal poles. I pick up the pace as I hear them slowly gaining on me. In another minute, I make it, slipping through the first few poles and flipping to face the rushing orcs. My smile turns maniacal as my plan is realized. The gaps between poles vary from four feet to as little as two. In this forest, no, their prison, I will become victorious. The orcs arrive and quickly begin awkwardly moving between the metal poles to reach me. I nimbly slither around the poles, racing towards the one on the left.

It sees me and lifts its sword predictably above itself. With the poles in the way, It's impossible for them to swing their massive weapons sideways or diagonally. I hold my gauntlet up, preparing for the strike. The sword moves in a blur down to me. Panic tries to grow in me, but the command acts as the perfect mentor, calming my nerves and positioning my arm faster than I can think. The blade comes down with incredible force, slicing across my almost parallel gauntlet.

With a spray of sparks, the blade shears across the back of my weapon, deflecting it to the side. The swing continues, the blade slamming into the ground with a spray of stone shrapnel. The blade buckles sideways with more sparks and a scream of metal, the top of the blade folding against itself. Both the orc and I look in awe at the cleanest deflect of my life. My body doesn't care, and my right fist comes forward to make contact with the orc's cheek.

The spikes hook onto the bone and rip the entire lower jawbone out with a splatter of blood. I immediately dodge to the side to avoid the other orc, but what I see only makes me laugh. The other orc is stuck between two particularly close poles. A chuckle builds in my throat, but the command cuts it off, forcing me to focus. A glance tells me the injured orc is clutching his face to avoid bleeding, so my body moves to the one I face. It panics and struggles harder as I move towards it.

Its left side is stuck through the bars, while the right, with the sword, is hidden behind it. Without any other targets, and not wanting to go to the side with the sword, I begin pummeling its arm. It tries to squeeze out, but fails. My gauntlets come down, several puncture holes and vicious grooves created on repeat. When the arm goes limp, it's more red than green. Blood flows like a waterfall onto the ground, forming a puddle.

With no defences left, I pull back and crash the heavy hunk of metal into the side of its head. The skull cracks, and my spikes dig in slightly, but I know the thing has a tough ass head. I take my time and pull back haymaker after haymaker; the orc is too disoriented to respond. I hear a shuffle and flip on my feet. My gauntlet barely has time to block the orc swinging its sword sideways at me with hate in its eyes and blood from its mouth.

I tense for the strike, but the blade halts with a clang against one of the poles. Before I can understand why the sword stopped, my fist is already pulling back. I lunge forward and put my full body weight into the strike, throwing another haymaker at its head. The orc meets the blow with its forehead, the plate of bone tanking my gauntlet with gusto. It results in only a couple of small furrows of gouged flesh. Still, it dazes it for a second. I follow up with another strike. Then another. And another.

The orc finally caves in, falling backwards with a crash. I don't give it a chance and follow it down, bringing the side of my gauntlet down on repeat. Once I hear the chime, there's nothing left but a crushed skull and gore. Standing to my feet, I make my way to the stuck orc. The left side of its head is broken open and bleeding heavily, along with its arm. It wheezes weakly, one eye shut with blood and the other unfocused. This thing will probably die even if I don't finish it.

Still, the gauntlet bashes it at the awkward angle through the poles until another chime sounds. The level-up hits like a truck. Chime My muscles coil around themselves and are pulled taut like I'm benching my max. I gasp and close my eyes in ecstasy. My body twitches and it takes effort to stay on my feet. My muscles contract and extend on repeat as my body compresses them to the extreme. A few seconds later, it finishes. It feels like my body transforms into an orc as I flex my new biceps.

I laugh joyfully from the top of my lungs.