Smoke curled in the air above the ruined camp. The fire had been kicked to cinders, its warmth lost to the cold, iron-scented dusk. Twilight loomed overhead, a storm brewing far on the horizon. And in the clearing, thirty orcs stood with calculated patience, not the usual frenzied brutes, but silent killers. Disciplined. Formed.
Their crude armor bore matching designs scorched into iron plates, a mark not known to common tribes. Their grips on their weapons were trained, deliberate. Their breathing… synchronized.
This wasn't a raid.
This was a unit.
Red stood alone. A single man. His sword hadn't left its scabbard yet.
Around him, the ground was littered with ruin.
Lio lay unconscious, his chest rising faintly but unevenly, lips bruised, a trail of blood staining his jaw.
Hina, doubled over on the ground, her hands trembling over the deep, ugly wound in her stomach. Blood oozed between her fingers. She tried to crawl toward someone, anyone, but her strength had faded.
Rika was breathing in shallow gasps, her bow snapped in half near her hand. Yuzu was beside her, face pale, holding her side, clearly with cracked ribs and too much pain to move.
And Selena...
Selena was the worst.
Her back slumped against the tree, legs trembling to stay seated. Her daggers had fallen from her hands. Her shirt was soaked with red, a sword wound across her chest pulsing with every shaky breath. She looked like she was mouthing something, but no sound escaped. Her amber eyes had dulled, but when they saw Red, a faint glimmer sparked again.
And all the while, the orcs waited. Watching.
Predators savoring the moment before the kill.
Red exhaled, low and steady. He knew.
This wasn't random.
These orcs were coordinated. They had fought like a unit. Covered each other. Broke formations to flank. Targeted the healer first, then archers, then the rogue. Lio had been drawn away on purpose. He could see it now in the battlefield layout, in the trampled grass and angled bloodstains.
This wasn't just a fight.
It was a trap.
But… who set it?
No beast could have trained orcs this way.
No wild tribe could have taught them strategic formation.
There was a hand behind this. Someone watching.
And worse… no one was coming.
No emergency flares. No guild patrols. No senior adventurers bursting from the trees. No cavalry. No miracle.
This wasn't a time for hope.
This was a time for reality.
And reality was cruel.
Red slowly pulled the sword from his back. It slid out silently, the edge gleaming with faint crimson reflection in the fire's dying light. The orcs tensed—not with fear, but recognition.
They'd seen real warriors before.
And Red, right now, was more than a man.
He was resolve made flesh.
But even he… couldn't protect them all.
He scanned the area.
No higher ground. No exit path not blocked. The forest offered no escape, not with this many wounded.
The only choice left
Was to hold the line.
Until death, or until something changed.
He moved.
Swiftly. Cleanly.
He cut down the first orc who moved in. A downward strike, slicing through shoulder to chest, stopping the charge cold. Before the body hit the dirt, Red turned, blade flashing, parrying a jagged axe and kicking its wielder back with brutal force.
But they weren't attacking all at once.
No. They surrounded him.
Like wolves.
Testing.
Watching.
Circling.
That was when he emerged.
The leader.
An orc larger than the rest, twice the size of a man, clad in darkened steel reinforced with leather and thick bone. His helm bore twin horns spiraling upward, and his weapon was no ordinary axe—it was a glaive, forged with black alloy and covered in marks that shimmered when he stepped forward.
The other orcs all stopped, stepping aside.
He was different.
Not just in strength.
But in presence.
The leader stopped about ten paces from Red. His dark yellow eyes narrowed. And then… he raised his glaive and pointed it forward.
A signal.
The orcs roared.
The fight began.
Red launched into action, faster than the eye could follow. His blade slashed horizontally, catching one attacker in the throat, then spun to parry a hammer swing that nearly shattered the earth where he'd stood. He pivoted, stabbed through an orc's heart, kicked another square in the knee to send it falling, but they didn't stop.
They kept coming. In waves.
And worse, disciplined waves.
One orc tried to grapple, forcing Red to twist and elbow its jaw, but three more moved to box him in. He was barely keeping them at bay, and every second cost him precious stamina.
The leader didn't attack yet. He watched.
Commanded.
Red gritted his teeth.
This wasn't winnable.
Not in this state.
But he couldn't leave them. He couldn't move to defend Hina, Selena, or the others. If he left his spot, they'd be slaughtered.
His foot slid slightly.
He was tiring.
One swing blocked. A counterattack launched.
Another dodge.
Another feint.
Another orc fell.
But for every one that died, another filled the space.
Blood sprayed.
His own shoulder was clipped.
A shallow gash on his thigh.
He ignored it.
He couldn't fall.
Not here.
Not yet.
From the side of the field, a faint rustle.
A shift of light.
Up in the cliffs, far beyond sight, hidden behind a shimmer of enchanted illusion, a pair of eyes watched through a crystal monocle.
The Mysterious Woman.
"Intel," as she was known in the shadows, tilted her head with amusement. Her gloved hand rested against her chin.
Mysterious Woman: So it begins…
Beside her, the mysterious man stood silent. Eyes cold. Hands behind his back.
Mysterious Man: This test…is cruel.
She smiled faintly.
Mysterious Woman: But necessary.
Her gaze flicked to Hina, crumpled in a pool of red and white.
To Selena, still conscious by sheer force of will.
To the others, still breathing, if barely.
And to Red.
The blade in the dark.
The heir to a legacy forged in blood and silence.
"He'll break soon," the man said.
"No," the Mysterious Woman replied. "He'll burn."
Down below, Red slashed through another attacker, only for the orc leader to finally step forward. Towering, monstrous, he twirled the glaive once in hand and charged.
The impact of their clash echoed through the canyon like thunder.
And the real battle
Had just begun.