Lena didn’t wait another second. She leaped forward, her sword tracing a silver arc through the air, aiming straight for Kasama’s torso.
CLANG.
The blade bounced off the green skin as if striking tempered steel. Not a scratch. Not even a red mark.
Lena stepped back, staring at her weapon in disbelief.
Kasama clumsily dodged the following series of strikes, twisting as though swatting flies rather than evading lethal attacks. He raised his hands in front of him, an annoyed expression on his face.
“Hey, hey! Stop cutting my clothes!” He looked down, noticing several gashes in the fabric. “This is all I have!”
Lena froze, sword still raised. “Your… clothes?”
“Yeah, my clothes.” Kasama ran his hand over the tears with a wounded look. “Do you really want to see me naked that badly or what?”
Lena’s face flushed with rage. “YOU BASTARD!”
He cared more about his clothes than being injured? It was a pure insult.
Kasama suddenly reached out, trying to grab Lena’s wrist. His massive fingers closed on empty air.
Lena had already pivoted, her body sliding under the grasp with perfect fluidity. Without losing a moment, she counterattacked, her blade aimed at the orc’s exposed ribs.
CLANG.
That metallic sound again.
“Seriously?!” she growled.
Behind her, Lucia began to chant. But not in the common tongue. It was the sacred language. The one only priestesses of the Sun God mastered. Each syllable amplified the magic’s effect, making it more powerful.
A golden light enveloped Lena.
Lena felt the difference immediately.
She leaped again, but this time her speed was incomparable. Her sword traced three arcs in less than a second.
CLANG CLANG CLANG.
Kasama stepped back slightly, frowning. “Oh. You got stronger.”
But he still wasn’t bleeding.
“How is this possible?!” Lena shouted, chaining a frenzied series of strikes. Each blow should have sliced him in half. Each attack should have brought him down.
But nothing.
Kasama watched almost curiously, as though studying a particularly stubborn insect.
WHAM.
A fist came out of nowhere, smashing into Kasama’s face.
Hiro had appeared in a spectacular leap, sword sheathed, striking bare-handed.
Kasama blinked, turning his head slightly. “Huh?”
He touched his nose, checking for blood. None. But he had felt something.
“You got stronger,” he noted, almost impressed. “How is that possible?”
Hiro didn’t answer. He drew his sword with a metallic shing, the blade glowing with a blue light as mana enveloped it like liquid flame.
CLANG.
The sword struck Kasama’s shoulder.
Nothing.
Hiro stepped back, eyes wide.
Even with mana. Nothing.
Then he heard an alarming sound.
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CRACK.
A crack. Tiny, almost invisible, running along his sword’s blade.
Hiro immediately sheathed his weapon. If it broke now, he would lose his passive bonus. As long as the sword was with him, his strength remained amplified.
He raised his fists. “Fine. We do this the old-fashioned way.”
Hiro and Lena attacked simultaneously.
Left, right, high, low. Their movements were synchronized, fluid, deadly.
Kasama blocked, dodged, parried. But he wasn’t really counterattacking. He seemed more annoyed than anything.
“Honestly,” he muttered, catching Hiro’s fist and gently pushing it away, “you guys are really persistent.”
Lena dodged an arm sweep and closed in, aiming for the torso.
“Hiro!” she suddenly shouted. “The eyes! Aim for his eyes!”
Hiro lit up. “You’re a genius!”
There was no way his eyes were as resistant as the rest of his body.
Kasama heard.
His expression changed instantly. The nonchalance vanished, replaced by something dangerously close to fear.
“Hey, wait…”
But Hiro and Lena were already moving.
Kasama got serious. Really serious. His muscles tensed, his body lowered slightly, adopting a proper fighting stance.
He was strong. He was fast.
A punch aimed at Hiro’s face—Hiro barely dodged, feeling the wind shift his hair.
A kick swept Lena’s legs—she jumped, spun in mid-air, landed behind Kasama, and immediately struck toward his eye.
Kasama raised his arm, blocking.
“HE PROTECTS TOO WELL!”
Kasama was sweating now. His hands never left his face, covering his eyes every time an attack came close.
THUNK.
Something sharp sank into his back.
“Ow!” Kasama spun around abruptly.
It was Cassian.
She was standing at a safe distance now—Kasama had moved so much during the fight that he had distanced himself from her. The elves’ weakness no longer paralyzed her.
She was firing ice lances. Sharp, fast, constant.
Kasama felt them crash against his back like pebbles. It didn’t hurt, but it was annoying.
He ignored her. No time.
He charged toward Lucia.
She had been chanting the whole time. Constantly. Without stopping. She was the real problem.
Kasama’s fist shot out, aimed straight at Lucia’s face.
BOOM.
His fist stopped two centimeters from her nose.
A barrier. Translucent, shining, absolutely impenetrable.
Lucia continued chanting without even flinching.
The barrier faded back to invisibility after a few seconds.
“ANNOYING!” Kasama roared.
Between Cassian peppering him from afar, Hiro and Lena constantly trying to blind him, and Lucia being completely untouchable, he was seriously starting to lose patience.
In the distance, Cassian adjusted her shots.
Sharper. Faster. More piercing.
She tried different shapes. Triangular tips. Needle-like points. Spiral tips to maximize penetration.
Nothing worked.
She increased the speed. Technically, more speed equaled more force.
But the more speed she applied, the more mana it consumed.
Her reserves had grown considerably. But they weren’t infinite.
I have to conserve.
Kasama suddenly stopped.
He looked at the group. Hiro circling. Lena gripping her sword with determination. Lucia still chanting. Cassian in the distance continuing her barrage.
“You know what?” he said, lowering his arms. “I’m not interested anymore.”
He turned around.
“You’re too weird. It’s not fun when it’s too easy or too hard.”
And he started walking. Slowly. Casually.
Lena felt deeply offended.
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!”
This bastard was walking away as if nothing had happened. As if they were just annoying flies.
Lucia shouted something in the sacred language.
Hiro and Lena felt their bodies explode with power.
Every muscle vibrated. Every nerve screamed with energy.
Kasama suddenly felt his legs tremble.
Fatigue. Disorientation. His senses blurred.
He stumbled, barely catching himself.
What the…?
Everything was fuzzy. Distances seemed wrong. Sounds distorted.
“That was it…” he murmured. “That’s what she was doing the whole time.”
“I CAN’T KEEP THIS UP MUCH LONGER!” Lucia screamed, voice hoarse.
Hiro and Lena leaped.
Kasama tried to block, but his arms moved too slowly. Everything was off.
“EYES! AIM FOR THE EYES!”
Kasama panicked.
In a survival reflex, he curled into a ball on the ground, hands covering his face, arms protecting his head.
Hiro and Lena struck. Again and again.
CLANG CLANG CLANG.
Nothing.
Lena kicked Kasama’s ribs. “WHY WON’T YOU DIE?!”
Kasama was shaking.
This position.
It was shameful. The worst shame for an orc.
If my father saw me like this…
He would be the laughingstock of the clan. The embodiment of dishonor.
Lucia joined them, circling Kasama. She observed, thought.
Then an idea sprouted.
She discreetly pointed at the orc’s backside. Then at Lena’s sword. Then mimed a thrusting motion.
Hiro and Lena looked at each other.
Their eyes widened.
Then they smiled. A sadistic, satisfied, terrifying smile.
Hiro silently drew his cracked sword.
Lena and Lucia began speaking out loud.
“How can we beat him?”
“No idea. He’s too resistant.”
“Maybe we should just give up?”
Kasama, still curled up, listened with relief.
Hiro positioned himself behind him. Sword raised. Aiming.
In the distance, Cassian realized what was happening.
Her eyes widened.
“They’re not… No. They wouldn’t dare.”
She covered her eyes with both hands.
“I don’t want to see this.”
But she parted her fingers slightly. Just enough to peek.
Hiro was ultra-focused.
Speed. Force. Trajectory. Angle. Distance.
He calculated everything mentally.
The sun made his sword blade gleam. He was perfectly still.
I can’t fail. The girls are counting on me.
He remembered all the good moments. The laughter. The shared meals. The battles overcome together.
He had promised to protect them. Always.
Kasama turned his head slightly.
Why isn’t anyone attacking me anymore?
He saw Hiro.
He understood.
Fear. Real fear. The kind that freezes blood and paralyzes the soul.
“HAAAAAAA!” Hiro shouted as he leaped.
The fastest attack he had ever executed.
Cassian closed her eyes completely.
CLENCH.
Kasama clenched his buttocks with maximum force.
The tip of the sword stopped. One millimeter from penetration.
CRACK.
The sword shattered.
Hiro, Lena, and Lucia froze, mouths open.
Kasama was sweating profusely. His heart pounded at a hundred miles an hour.
He had just escaped the worst.
Fear made him leap to his feet.
He ran.
Ran like he had never run before.
If they’re capable of that… what kind of atrocities will they inflict on me if I stay?!
Cassian opened her eyes.
She saw Kasama fleeing.
“I can’t let that bastard get away.”
She raised her hand. Concentrated her mana. A lot of mana. Too much mana.
The ice lance shot out like a comet.
BOOM.
It missed Kasama by a few centimeters.
And pierced a tree.
The entry wound was small. The exit was enormous. A crater in the trunk.
The entire tree shook. Hundreds of leaves fell.
Hiro, Lena, and Lucia turned around, shocked.
Cassian herself stared at her hand in disbelief.
A good chunk of her mana had just vanished.
The power was there. But she had missed.
No more room for error. One shot. Maybe two.
And she wasn’t even sure she could defeat the orc with that.
“WE FOLLOW HIM!” Hiro shouted.
They gave chase to Kasama.
Kasama ran for his life, tripping over roots, getting branches in the face.
---
Hours passed.
Kasama was now hidden high in a tree, hands clamped over his mouth.
Below, he heard their voices.
“Kasama? Where are you?”
“We just want to talk!”
“Come back, we won’t hurt you!”
The tone was soft. Friendly. Almost maternal.
It was terrifying.
Kasama trembled.
He would never answer.
He had no one to help him. No one to run to.
He now understood why he had been banished from the clan.
He was a coward.
A true orc fights to the death.
Him? He was hiding in a tree like prey.
He just hoped to survive long enough to see another dawn.
