FRSBS 10

Chapter 10

Rumble!

Under the orange glow of sunset, a mutant orc swung its massive sword deep in the forest.

Juhyeok’s eyes darted, tracing the creature’s shoulders, predicting the angle of its next strike.

Clang!

He couldn’t afford to meet it head-on — not against a monster with that kind of brute strength.
If he did, his sword would shatter or he’d lose his footing instantly.

So he timed his parries perfectly, letting the orc’s power glance off at just the right moment.

Even the slightest delay or premature movement would have meant a fatal wound.
It was a razor-thin dance on the edge of death.

“Grrrgh!”

The orc growled, frustration twisting its ugly face.

It had failed to land a hit after several exchanges, and its irritation was showing.

Juhyeok didn’t want to drag this fight out either.

‘I don’t have the stamina for a battle of attrition.’

He’d sparred countless times with humanoid golems of similar size and form.
If not for the fact that this one used a sword, things might’ve been far worse.

‘It doesn’t have proper swordsmanship… but its reaction speed and strength are insane.’

Clang!

Juhyeok deflected another blow, his brain working faster than his body.

Then he noticed it — the orc’s annoyed expression when a strike missed.

“…So you really do have intelligence, huh?”

Ordinary orcs were stupid.
So stupid, in fact, that unless the trap was painfully obvious, they’d walk right into it.

They were strong but simple — predictable.

But this one wasn’t.

Instead of charging blindly, it had left the fallen prey behind and searched for the missing human.

That required thought.
Imagination.

This one planned.

Juhyeok remembered something — the intelligent golems he’d once faced.

Creatures that could think were always more dangerous.

He recalled the method he’d used to defeat one of them.

Clang!

With a plan forming in his head, he raised his sword, deflecting the orc’s blow upward this time.

Until now, he’d always parried sideways — this sudden change broke the orc’s rhythm.

Its balance wavered for a brief instant.

“Head!”

He shouted, lunging straight for the orc’s face.

The thrust came visibly, deliberately — enough that the orc saw it coming.

Clang!

The creature recovered its stance mid-swing and blocked in time.

Juhyeok grimaced.
It had regained balance faster than he’d hoped.

Even off-balance, its reaction speed was monstrous.

“Grrrrh!”

Now the orc pressed forward aggressively, its swings heavier than before.

It wasn’t stupid enough to miss the opening when Juhyeok’s stance faltered.

Clang!

After parrying, it immediately counterattacked — a swift, brutal overhead slash.

This time, instead of dodging, Juhyeok met the blow head-on.

Crash!

“Ugh… damn, it’s strong.”

He’d expected it to hit hard — but not this hard.

The impact made his palms burn.

Still, he pushed forward, tightening his grip and swinging again.

“Head!”

Another shout. Another lunge toward the eyes.

The orc, now familiar with the trick, raised its blade to block instinctively.

The difference in raw power was absurd — his blade stopped dead in the air.

“Grururuk!”

The monster snorted mockingly, as if to say, “That all you’ve got?”

The battle continued.

He yelled, swung for the head, got blocked — over and over again.
Each exchange wore him down further.

His breath came ragged.
His arms trembled.

The mutant orc saw that — and smiled.

The tide had turned.
Victory was already in its hands.

It pressed harder, its confidence rising with each clash.

That was its mistake.

Overconfidence.

It thought it had him figured out — the same pattern, the same move shouted every time.

It assumed the fight was already won.

Thunk!

Juhyeok’s defense faltered, a solid hit landing on his shoulder.

He gritted his teeth, staggering.

The orc’s eyes gleamed.

A perfect opening.

“Head!”

He yelled again, leaping high.

To the orc, this looked like the same desperate move it had already countered a dozen times.

It calmly lifted its sword, ready to block the strike to its eyes—

But then—

“…Hah.”

There was no impact.

No clash of steel.

The sword never came from above.

“Guhk?”

The orc blinked, lowering its blade slightly—

“You’re too late.”

By the time it realized, the human was already beneath its guard.

The sword flashed from below, slicing clean across its exposed ankle.

“KUAAAHH!!”

A hideous scream tore through the forest.

The orc toppled, its Achilles tendon severed.
The weight of its own body crushed it to the ground.

“Too smart for your own good, huh?”

Juhyeok exhaled, standing over the fallen creature.

A normal orc wouldn’t have fallen for that.
They didn’t understand human speech enough to react to words.

But this one — with its higher intelligence — had learned to anticipate “Head!”
It had adapted to his commands, overthinking them.

“Guess it’s easier to trick a smart monster than a dumb one.”

“Grrrhhh!!”

The orc howled in rage, thrashing its arms.

It still couldn’t accept defeat — but without its legs, it wasn’t going anywhere.

“So noisy.”

His head pounded. His muscles ached from blocking blow after blow.

And now that ear-splitting roar on top of it — he’d had enough.

Juhyeok climbed onto its broad, heaving back.

“Grrrh! Grrrkh!”

“If you’ve lost, at least hand over your mana stone quietly.”

He muttered, plunging his blade into its neck.

The beast’s entire body convulsed once — then went limp.

“Phew… that was rough.”

Juhyeok collapsed onto its back, exhausted.

His hands trembled from the strain of enduring its monstrous strength.

‘I can’t believe I just fought a sword-wielding orc in an F-rank dungeon…’

Totally unexpected.

He’d seen reports of random “mutant” monsters appearing in low-level gates,
but he never thought his first dungeon would have one.

‘Alright. Let’s just get the mana stone and go.’

Usually, Ye-na handled the harvesting,
but Juhyeok had learned how to do it at the academy.

With his chipped blade, he cut through the tough hide near its chest,
feeling around for the hard, foreign lump inside.

When his fingers brushed it, he pulled — and out came a glowing crystal.

The light was much stronger than that of an F-grade stone.

“This has to be between D and C rank.”

Bigger, brighter — definitely worth a lot more.

As he turned it over in his hand, a message suddenly appeared before his eyes.

[Absorb the mana by consuming the mana stone.]

“…What?”

His hand froze mid-motion.

He hadn’t even touched his artifact sigil — so why was this message appearing?
And what the hell did it mean, consume it?

‘You want me to… eat it?’

Normally, no sane hunter would even think about that.

Swallowing a mana stone was suicide.

F-rank stones contained so little energy that minor ingestion caused no harm —
but anything higher?

Overload your body’s capacity for mana,
and you turned into the same kind of monster that spawned inside the gates.

‘Sure, my body isn’t exactly normal anymore because of the artifact… but still…’

He looked at the bloody, glowing stone.

The smell alone — raw, metallic, like animal blood — made his stomach churn.

‘Maybe there’s another way? Like extracting the mana safely somehow…’

But deep down, he already knew.
He didn’t have the luxury of choices.

“…Screw it. Let’s just get this over with.”

He wiped off as much blood as he could,
pinched his nose like a kid forcing down vegetables,
and shoved the stone into his mouth.

“Kuugh…”

A gag reflex hit instantly.
The texture, the taste — it was nauseating.

Tears welled up as he forced it down his throat.

[Extracting mana from consumed stone…]

The message floated in his vision as he gulped water from his pocket flask,
trying not to vomit.

[Mana successfully absorbed.]

Finally. Success.

After the brutal fight, after choking down that revolting thing,
at least there was some progress—

[Mana supply for the Training Room: 2 / 100]

“…Two percent?”

He blinked.

It had been at 1% before.
And now — after eating a D-rank stone — it had gone up by just one more.

“I risked my life for that and it’s only one percent?!”

If he’d sold it, he could’ve easily earned ten million won even after the fees.

But eating it? All for a lousy one percent increase?

The artifact might’ve been powerful, but its efficiency was abysmal.

“Haah…”

A long sigh escaped him.

He’d planned to grind low-tier, low-risk gates for safety,
but maybe that plan needed revising.

He sat there on the orc’s cooling corpse, lost in thought—

“Juhyeok!”

A familiar voice pierced the air.

He turned his head — Ye-na was running toward him, eyes wide.
Behind her was one of the gate security soldiers.

“You got here fast,” he said.

“Wait… don’t tell me you killed that thing?”

She ran up, ignoring formal speech now,
eyes darting over his bloodstained figure.

“This was you? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“It’s not my blood — just the orc’s,” he said quickly, stepping back.

He didn’t want her to accidentally touch his artifact mark.

She scanned him carefully, then exhaled in relief.

“Thank god…”

“….”

He expected her to bombard him with questions —
How did you do it? What happened? —
but instead, she just looked relieved.

Genuinely relieved.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “For leaving you behind.”

“I told you to go. Nothing to apologize for.”

“Still…”

The guilt weighed on her face.

Even seeing him unharmed didn’t erase it completely.

Juhyeok felt awkward under that sincerity —
until another message blinked before his eyes.

[Mana supply for the Training Room: 2 / 100]

He glanced at it, then back at her.
And an idea formed.

“If you really feel bad,” he said, “then do me a favor.”

“A favor?”

“Yeah. But let’s talk outside — I’m tired.”

He stepped off the corpse and headed toward the exit.

The soldier who’d come with Ye-na straightened, eyes filled with new respect.

“Let’s go,” Juhyeok said.

“…Yes, sir. I’ll guide you.”

His voice was sharp, disciplined — a soldier’s tone toward a superior.

No longer treating Juhyeok like some rookie hunter.