Chapter 37

“I don’t know how you noticed so quickly, but… impressive.”

Horse-face’s mutter faded behind me, and then a sharp voice cut through the rain, grating at my ears. Was that supposed to be praise? I ignored it and kept walking forward.

“Arrogant.”

Arrogant? Hah, this brat really didn’t hold back. But words like that weren’t nearly enough to shake me.

‘Brat.’

I repeated the word in my head, savoring it, then rested my sword on my shoulder and came to a stop. Presences pressed in from both ahead and behind—orc horde in front, Horse-face and Skeleton behind.

“Chwik…”

That faint, guttural hiss—an orc’s voice. Breathing? I pushed the idle thought away and waited as their heavy steps drew nearer. Soon they were close enough to count. More than I expected. Thirty-eight in total. A single sweep of my senses was enough.

“…Haa.”

Off to my left, Horse-face exhaled deeply. Had he finally pulled himself together? He stretched his limbs, shaking out his body in preparation. On my right, Sharn gripped his sword. To anyone else, his stance would have looked flawless. But to my eyes, it was forced—deliberately unnatural. Like he was pretending.

“They’re in sight.”

That sharp voice again, pulling me from my thoughts. Sharn. Fine then, let’s see what you can do.

The moment his words ended, I lowered my sword from my shoulder and charged straight at the nearest orc, relying only on raw strength. Rain hammered into my face as my speed picked up, but it did nothing to slow me.

“Chwik! Chwik! Human!”

The orcs came into view, dozens of them wielding axes and clubs, a few even clutching rusted swords. I brushed my dripping hair back from my forehead and swung, blade aimed at the one brandishing a club.

My sword glowed faintly as I infused it with inner energy. Light traced its path through the storm, striking down.

Slaash!

“Chriiiek!!”

The blade cleaved through the orc’s raised club, tearing across its right shoulder and bursting out at the left hip. A shriek followed. For the briefest instant, I caught sight of it—my sword cutting even through the wall of rain itself.

Breaking bone and muscle required power, but to part the rain like that demanded speed too. Enough speed to make water scatter like cloth.

Splaash.

Green blood sprayed as my sword slid clean through. Droplets mixed with rain as they splattered over me. I didn’t bother dodging; instead, I let it soak me as I charged the next one.

Normally, I would’ve avoided the mess. But tonight, with the downpour already drenching me, it hardly mattered. And besides, after living covered in monster blood back in the Demon Realm… this was nothing. Still, it was an experience I’d never care to repeat.

Thud!

Just as I swung my sword to cleave through an orc’s neck, a heavy impact echoed behind me. Even amid the roar of rain and splashing mud, the sound rang clear.

“Die!”

Horse-face’s frenzied shout carried through the storm. I ignored it and slashed at the axe-wielding orc in front of me. My blade split not only its neck but both arms raised high above its head.

“Queh?”

The orc toppled, dead before it could scream, head and arms severed clean.

I scanned the battlefield. On my right, Sharn cut swiftly through enemies, his sword flashing again and again. On the left, Horse-face lashed out with fists and feet. Focusing my hearing, I caught the crunch of breaking bones every time his strikes landed.

‘Hm?’

One was closing in from behind. I shifted my grip, blade angled downward, and stabbed back.

Squelch.

Every sensation surged through my hand: flesh tearing, resistance giving way. No bone, just soft tissue. Without hesitation, I released and reversed my hold, sweeping the blade across my right side.

“Kkriiiek!”

The orc’s waist split open, spilling entrails as it shrieked and rolled across the ground. I ended its suffering with a stab through the forehead. A dull thunk, a few convulsions, then stillness. I’d seen it a thousand times. Monsters, beasts—it didn’t matter. Death was always the same.

“Chwik! Chwik! Kill them! Humans!”

I wrenched my sword free and slashed another orc nearby. Even as I split the chest of the one in front of me, a bellow thundered over the storm.

Looking past the collapsing corpse, I saw it—the biggest orc, towering at the rear, a horned helm on its head, twin axes in hand, roaring commands. The way it carried itself, the armor it wore—it had to be the leader.

“Haaap!”

A sharp cry split the storm. I turned my head. Sharn had spotted it too. Skeleton cut his way forward, blade hacking down orcs as he charged for the leader.

But there was no chance I’d let him have it first.

“Haa!”

I roared, pushing internal energy into the shout. Even a small burst was enough to freeze movement around me—orc and human alike stalled for an instant. In that heartbeat of stillness, I spread internal energy through my body, lightening it, then surged forward.

Cutting down any orc in my path, I closed on the leader in a blink. It loomed ahead, axes raised, mouth wide as if caught mid-breath. Its dark green skin gleamed slick with rain. Its eyes bulged wide, startled. Its body was crisscrossed with scars.

And yet, strangely, there was no stink of orc musk. Maybe the storm drowned it out. Or maybe my nose, dulled by the stench of blood, no longer noticed.

I raised my sword overhead, aiming for the crown of its skull. My left foot slid forward, steadying my stance.

The silence shattered. Presences stirred once more—three closing in, all orcs. No human among them.

“I shall reign.”

The words slipped low from my lips, directed at the leader before me. It was a vow as much as a declaration—my resolve to stand above every living thing on the continent.

“Chwik!”

The orc leader before me only let out ragged breaths. For a fleeting moment, I wondered—was “chwiik” truly their language? But I shook the thought aside. Its eyes were still wide, its skin still slick under the rain. Nothing had changed.

But everything would change now. Killing the leader would be my first true step toward becoming the Absolute One who would reign above all life. I had to make it count.

First Form, Second Stance. One Stroke, Seven Cuts. Extreme Speed.

Beasts and monsters reacted to danger far more sharply than humans. They were built to survive. Yet this one, frozen under the killing intent I exuded, couldn’t move. My sword flashed.

No sound. No afterimage.

Neither the swish of steel nor a trace in the rain remained. That was the essence of Extreme Speed. With the Human Realm’s environment so different from the Demon Realm, the technique’s velocity was several times faster here.

“Ch… chwiik!”

The leader’s breathing grew harsher. It hadn’t even felt the blade pass through it. Extreme Speed moved faster than the body could register. Soon enough, its flesh would fall apart into dozens of pieces. I ignored it and turned to the two orcs charging me from the front.

Both wielded swords, jaws wide in feral screams. Loyal, weren’t they? That loyalty surprised me. Monsters with devotion?

Pushing the thought away, I spread my killing intent. The two froze mid-stride, trembling violently. Their eyes shook the most, saliva—or maybe rainwater—dribbling from their gaping mouths. I brushed back my wet hair and advanced.

“Chwiik!!”

Others tried to close in, but my aura held them at bay. They only hovered, unable to draw nearer. Passing between the two paralyzed orcs, I heard the short, sharp cry of a body collapsing behind me, heavy against the earth. I didn’t need to look. The leader was already in pieces.

“Chwiik! Chwik kio! Chwik chao!”

As I cut down the frozen pair beside me, terrified cries rippled through the survivors. Orc tongue, no doubt. I couldn’t understand the words, but it hardly mattered. Within moments, the few remaining—five at most—turned tail and fled.

I considered finishing them off, but seeing two mercenaries already chasing them down, I let it go and swept my gaze around the field.

Caved-in chests. Split waists spilling entrails. Headless, armless corpses. A grotesque sight, but it barely stirred me. Maybe I’d already been twisted by the Demon Realm. At times like this, the question always surfaced.

Am I really human?

The doubt faded quickly enough. Of course I was.

“What the hell are you?”

Sharn approached, face tight, his words blunt and cold.

“What I said I was. A mercenary.”

I answered simply and turned toward the tents. The orcs were gone—no, not gone. Dead.

“Who could do someth—”

“Tomorrow.”

I cut him off before he could finish, walking on.

The rain had eased compared to when the fighting began. Merchants were rising from beneath the trees and returning to the tents. I glanced at the wagon—two presences still lingered within.

Stepping inside my own tent, I settled into a cross-legged seat. Tonight, I would trade sleep for meditation, qi cultivation. The damp chill clung to my legs where the rainwater pooled, but I drew in a steady breath, closed my eyes, and let the sensation fade away.