Book 1 Chapter 31


Leguna sprinted as quickly as he could. The information recorded in Wayerliss's notebook surfaced in his mind. He was going over all the methods he could use to get himself out of his current predicament. Even while he was being pursued by three orcs, he didn't panic. He just kept on thinking, operating like a clockwork machine.

Perhaps because of his small figure, he was able to move agilely despite the forest's complicated terrain, allowing him many advantages over the bumbling and huge orcs.

If he continued his escape in this manner, there was a good chance he could shake his pursuers off. But he didn't choose to run. Cyranos's death remained in the back of his mind. All he wanted right now was to kill the orcs to relieve some of his pain. After giving it a little more thought, he was confident it was a feat he could accomplish.

After confirming he had indeed put enough ground between him and his pursuers, he took out a grappling hook and secured it to a branch. When he was sure it was stable, he began to climb the tree slowly.

Even though the branch creaked from bearing his weight, it did not snap. He weighed less than 50 kilograms. Had it been the near-100-kilogram Kurdak, the rope might snap before the branch.

He knelt carefully on top of the branch and waited for the darkest time of the night. At a time like that, even humans could only see for around 15 meters. He took in the silence of the world around him. While the feeling was comfortable, he wasn't in the mood to relish it. Neither was he surprised at his sudden boost in abilities. The three orcs had already scrambled over, roaring loudly as ever.

Do you think I can't find you? thought Leguna contemptuously.

He felt Flameblade sheathed by his waist. In darkness like this, even a firefly would attract lots of attention.

That was why he had brought Flameblade's scabbard with him. Otherwise, it would be like he was carrying a homing beacon.

One of the orcs searched the surroundings carefully while his two comrades remained within line of sight. That way, no matter who got into trouble, the others could assist him. It was the best plan the simple-minded orcs could come up with on the fly.

Leguna remained patiently. The moment he saw an orc approached the tree, he didn't hesitate to fling a throwing knife in the other direction.

The knife struck a rock and let out a clang. Even a sound as soft as that was like thunder in the dark and quiet forest. The three immediately looked in the clang's direction, causing the orc beneath the tree to be in the other two's blindspot.

Leguna took the opportunity to jump off the tree. Landing accurately on the orc's shoulders, his thin frame made him look like a naughty monkey riding on another's shoulders.

Monkeys were far less dangerous than him, though. At the same time he descended, he drew Flameblade and clasped the orc's mouth with his left hand, before digging the dagger into his throat with his right.

The sound of gushing blood caught the other two's attention but all they could see after they turned around was their comrade slumping lifelessly, and a silhouette doing a backflip and disappearing back into the shadows.

Leguna looked coldly at the two orcs rushing angrily in his direction with their crude weapons. They seemed to be saying something to their fallen comrade and wore expressions of grief and rage.

Are you angry? We feel the same, thought he.

However, it made his heart freeze over even more. This all started because of the orcs. He had to make them pay.

He continued to move silently. After he found a suitable place to stop, he drew a normal mithril dagger and pierced it straight into a tree nearby.

The sound of metal digging into wood caught the orcs' attention. He didn't panic and raised his right hand before throwing Flameblade to a tree not far away with all the power he had.

As expected of a high-grade enchanted weapon, the blade pierced straight into the tree without resistance, leaving only the handle visible. The orcs came forward roaring. After taking that weird action of his, Leguna began to run again.

The two orcs ran with all their might, feeling seething hatred for the youth that refused to fight them head-on. The method of fighting he used was one of a coward, yet a number of their comrades and even their leader, the strongest, had fallen, much to the displeasure of the two.

They approached loudly, swearing to tear the little human into a thousand pieces if they caught him. Much to their delight, the coward seemed to have realized the shame of his ways and actually stood unmoving, glaring at them coldly.

They increased their speed even further in fear him running off again. At that moment, something completely unexpected happened. The orc running at the front let out a weird grunt as the sound of a blade cutting flesh rang out. The one behind slowed down subconsciously.

It actually extended his life for a few more minutes. He realized that, less than half a meter in front of him, a metal wire as thin as a hair was suspended in mid-air. Droplets of blood hung on it and fell to the ground one by one.

Leguna had set up a simple trap. He tied a thin silver wire to both the normal dagger and Flameblade. He first thrust the blunter dagger into the tree near him and threw Flameblade at the next with all his might. He managed to suspend the wire in mid-air. It was even sharper than the edges of blades and he had chosen to affix it near the height of the soft parts of the orcs' necks. As a result, the orc that rushed forward blindly collapsed, decapitated by Leguna's simple trap.

Seeing his comrades fall one after another, even the proud orc warrior began to feel dread for the youth only about half his height. But the years of orcish cultural indoctrination had erased all notions of running away. He let out a loud growl and ducked under the wire before resuming his chase.

Leguna didn't bother to employ a sneak attack, choosing instead to draw the longsword sheathed on his back after taking a deep breath.


While some would find Leguna's prepubescent bellow funny, the orc could feel the grief and rage it contained. The next moment, Leguna clashed with the orc directly. The close combat techniques recorded in Wayerliss's notebook began to surface in his mind. His body executed the movements perfectly like the most precise machine. He could control every part of his body perfectly: his hands, his legs, his body, and even his breathing!

The orc was still a warrior that had been baptized by hundreds of battles, however. While he wasn't intelligent, he managed to identify the difference in physique between him and the human. The youth could definitely not endure even a single blow. It launched a double-edged attack, willing to trade a blow for landing one on Leguna. Even with his nimble movements, Leguna was forced into a passive position with the orc's ferocious approach.

Seeing his range of motion limited by the orc's approach, he didn't panic. Instead, he jumped backwards and tossed his longsword to slow its advance. He drew the last dagger he had sheathed on his boot.

When he landed, he exerted a huge force on his ankles. He burst forward with staggering speed. Before the orc could even blink, he had already appeared directly in front of it. It tried to block in a fit of terror, but before it could raise its hand, Leguna's dagger had already pierced deep into its throat.

Fresh blood gush out of the gaping hole incessantly. The orc looked grudge-filled at Leguna and finally collapsed.

Having defeated the last orc, Leguna slumped on the ground as if all his energy had left him. After his irises reverted to their dark-blue, he looked at his surroundings with shock and disbelief. While he found it hard to accept the fact that he was the one who had done all of it, his memories didn't give him a choice. He was aware of how calm he had been, how perfectly he could control his body, and how well he could plan his approach even in the midst of escape. It all resulted in him coldly slaughtering his enemies.

Shouldn't I be so terrified I'd wet myself after seeing an orc?

He looked at the blood on his hands before a strong sense of fatigue overcame him.

He fainted on the spot.

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