"Luminous Step!" Zane whispered.
In the blink of an eye, he vanished—
And reappeared behind the bluish, musclebound giant seated on the obsidian throne.
He launched a punch straight for the orc's head.
But the boss reacted—instantly.
The massive figure flickered and vanished, leaving only a gust of displaced air.
Zane's fist struck the cold stone throne with a dull thud.
He snapped his gaze up—
The orc had already repositioned a few paces away, arms still crossed lazily over his chest, as if mocking Zane's effort.
Zane didn't wait.
He lunged again—same punch, new angle, faster this time.
Again, the orc sidestepped. Effortless. Calm.
Zane gritted his teeth and unleashed a flurry of strikes, rapid and relentless.
Fists blurred as he rained punches from different angles—hooks, jabs, uppercuts, feints.
Each time, the orc evaded without breaking a sweat. Not a scratch landed.
But Zane wasn't frustrated.
He wasn't going all out yet.
And more importantly—neither was the orc.
Zane's grin widened slightly as he pivoted back and lowered into a ready stance, eyes gleaming with curiosity.
"You're holding back too, huh?"
This wasn't just a fight.
It was a test.
And Zane was itching to see how far this monster could go.
The orc scoffed, voice rumbling deep like an avalanche.
"Human. Is that all you've got? I was itching for a fight. This... is letting me down."
"Well, I can relate to that," Zane said with a smirk. "I doubt you can do anything to me either. If you're testing my strength, be my guest. But don't expect me to reveal my spirit just yet."
His tone was mocking—confident—and it caught the orc off guard.
He didn't fully understand the words, but something in Zane's posture, his unwavering stare, hinted at something dangerous beneath the surface.
The orc's violet eyes narrowed.
"Good. I'll start my attack then. Be ready, human. Don't die too fast."
The system translated the orc's voice in glowing subtitles.
"Bring it on, blue beast!" Zane shouted back, grinning wide.
The orc was thrilled by Zane's reaction. Still, he saw it as nothing but a fool's bravado. He moved.
Like a storm. Like vengeance itself.
A punch exploded toward Zane's chest—
Zane dodged it by a hair.
Another came—a hook from the left.
Zane twisted, slipped past it like water through fingers.
The chase began again—
Fast. Fluid. Brutal.
They traded punches and feints in a blur, but nothing connected.
Zane danced just out of reach, his footwork nimble, unpredictable.
Each time the orc adjusted, Zane was already a step ahead.
A growl tore from the orc's throat. His muscles tensed, shoulders heaving with irritation.
He wasn't just annoyed—he was insulted.
He was a warrior of legend back in his homeland. A prodigy among orcs.
He had earned his place through blood, fist, and ferocity—
A champion undefeated. Honored by the Empire. Sent to conquer this so-called backwater planet.
And now—a human was dodging his blows like it was child's play.
Zane, quick and clever, looked almost amused.
Like a nimble monkey dancing around a proud, ancient tree.
The orc's violet eyes glowed with fury.
Zane saw the change.
Something was about to shift.
The orc lunged forward—same pattern, a heavy fist driving upward in an uppercut aimed for Zane's jaw.
Zane sidestepped again using Luminous Step, teleporting a short distance away—
But this time, the orc didn't stop.
His fist slammed into the ground.
Crack!
A sudden tremor rippled across the dungeon floor as jagged spikes erupted from the stone.
An Earth-style Fissure.
Zane reacted immediately, leaping backward mid-air.
He'd anticipated this. He'd studied the orc's profile.
This boss didn't rely on brute strength alone—
He was smart.
And now he was angry.
The orc charged, throwing out rapid jabs, mixing in ground punches that triggered Fissure again and again—each time from unpredictable angles.
Zane weaved through them, sweat slicking his brow but his expression fierce. He didn't just react—
He adapted.
His mind raced with counter-strategies, and a glimmer of a plan began to form.
So... you've got magic and muscle. Not bad.
Zane's heart thundered, not with fear—but with thrill.
This was what he wanted.
A real fight. A worthy opponent.
Something inside him—something ancient and battle-hardened—stirred to life.
He hadn't noticed it before.
But this duel… was unlocking something primal inside him.
And it was only just beginning.
The orc's combo continued—ferocious, relentless.
Yet not a single attack managed to land.
Zane moved like mist through the onslaught, each step perfectly timed, each dodge a calculated risk.
But the orc wasn't done. Not even close.
Suddenly, he kicked the ground—
And the earth responded.
Crack!
A spike-laden fissure tore through the ground, snaking toward Zane with deadly precision.
A homing Fissure?
Zane's eyes narrowed as he leapt away—only for another fissure to erupt right beneath his new position.
The ground shattered again—then again.
Every time the orc's right leg struck the floor, a new trail of jagged earth spikes followed, chasing him like hungry serpents.
Zane gritted his teeth. This is different.
Unlike the previous orcs he'd fought—the ones who summoned Fissure by raising heavy cleavers and slamming them down with wind-up delays—
This boss didn't even need a weapon.
No cleaver. No chant.
Just raw power—channeled through his fists and feet.
His casting time's nearly nonexistent… he's integrating magic directly into his movements.
Zane twisted midair, narrowly avoiding another spike. Dirt and rock exploded behind him, missing by inches.
He rolled, sprang up, and pushed back further.
This wasn't brute force anymore.
This was combat finesse.
A terrifying fusion of martial skill and magic.
Zane's expression hardened.
So that's how it is... You're not just a boss with numbers. You're a real fighter.
And that made this all the more thrilling.
The orc pressed forward, his attacks growing sharper and faster with every exchange.
He weaved between brutal melee strikes and earth-shattering spells, punching directly at Zane one second, then slamming his right foot down to unleash another trail of spike-filled Fissures the next.
Worse, he wasn't just casting blindly anymore.
He began predicting.
Each fissure erupted not just where Zane stood—but where he might appear next. The orc was analyzing his movements, launching preemptive strikes at Zane's dodge points.
A frightening display of both intelligence and precision.
Zane darted, slid, and rolled away from a flurry of attacks, sweat forming along his brow.
He's reading my patterns...
And yet—despite all that, the orc's mana bar was still nearly full.
Zane's eyes narrowed. So that's it. He's not just spamming spells—he's mastered them.
"He's refined this Fissure Skill to an absurd degree," Zane muttered to himself mid-dodge. "His mana consumption is almost negligible… he probably uses less mana than he regenerates."
He clicked his tongue in frustration. "What a headache…"
Dodging another incoming blow, Zane reevaluated the threat.
Physically, he's a monster.
159 Strength.
127 Agility.
160 Mana.
Zane's lips curled into a tight frown. "I can't keep this up forever. I may be faster now, but only because we're still within the range where my acceleration gives me an edge."
He darted back, breathing heavy but steady.
"My agility's only 80, but I accelerate faster. He's heavier, bulkier—it takes him more time to hit top speed. I can reach mine faster, which is the only reason I'm dancing around him."
But the gap was closing.
"At this rate, he'll out-pace me soon enough."
Zane's mind worked rapidly, processing numbers, physics, and instincts all at once.
I need to break the pattern. Force him to overextend. Or find the one opening he's hiding behind all that muscle and magic...