In raw terms, that meant every single one of their base stats hovered around that same crushing number. Combine that with the inherent, blood-soaked combat instinct of the orc race, and they were absolute juggernauts on the battlefield.
‘But these guys…’
Min-woo gritted his teeth. They were far stronger than any standard Royal Guard he had ever encountered.
He had a solid guess as to why.
The Orc Hero currently overwhelming Cedric was an absolute monster. It stood to reason that whatever dark buff or regional correction was fueling that behemoth was trickling down to these guards as well.
‘Level 300? Yeah, that feels about right.’
An orcish glaive whistled through the air, aiming to cleave him in two. Min-woo deftly deflected the incoming blade with a precise, glancing blow from his sword. Deflecting required far less strength than a direct block. The moment the heavy weapon slid past, he countered, slashing upward in a fluid motion.
The orc’s eyes widened in surprise. Desperate, the beast threw up its thick forearm to shield its vitals.
Splat!
The sword bit into the dense, tree-trunk bone of the orc’s arm, sending a fountain of dark blood spraying into the air.
‘Too shallow.’
The buff potions pulsing through Min-woo's veins had raised his stats significantly, but his current weapon simply wasn't up to the task. It could carve through meat, but it lacked the bite to shatter bone.
Before he could pull back, another glaive came lunging toward his chest. Min-woo abandoned his grip on the sword and threw himself onto the blood-soaked dirt, rolling desperately out of the way.
The enraged guard raised a massive foot to stomp him into a pulp, but suddenly staggered.
‘I didn’t burn through my mana for nothing.’
Skeletons don't just appear; they tear their way out of the earth. From beneath the soil, a cluster of skeletal hands had erupted, locking onto the guard’s thick ankles with a vice-like grip.
Gro아아아!
Infuriated by the annoyance, the crimson-eyed orc began stomping wildly, shattering the bones beneath his feet. The level disparity was too vast; the basic skeletons crumbled like brittle glass under the sheer weight of the monster.
Yet, Min-woo had no shortage of fodder.
[Opening Sub-Space Ring (Intermediate)!]
A cascade of weapons and armor spilled from the dimensional storage, scattering across the dirt. In an instant, newly summoned skeletons scrambled from the earth, snatched up the gear, and swarmed the guard from all sides.
Given the overwhelming gap in their levels, these basic grunts wouldn't be able to deal any lethal damage, even with weapons.
But they could sting.
They pricked and stabbed at every inch of exposed flesh, clinging to the orc's arms and anchoring the hand holding the glaive. They were dying by the dozen, but they were buying seconds.
Meanwhile, Min-woo had already swapped his weapon. Grunted with effort, he pulled a heavy war hammer from his inventory.
‘Block this, you bastard.’
With a silent roar, he brought the hammer down toward the orc’s face with everything he had. Instinctively, the orc threw up its arm to shield itself—the very same arm that still had Min-woo's sword wedged deep in the bone.
The war hammer slammed directly into the hilt of the embedded sword.
Clang!
The force drove the blade completely through. With a sickening tear of flesh and crack of bone, the orc's forearm flew from its socket, splashing into the mud.
Roaaar!
Any normal creature would have collapsed, clutching its stump in agony. But this one-armed orc was a fanatic. Its eyes turned a blinding, frenzied red as it lunged forward, swinging its remaining glaive in a wild, horizontal arc.
Min-woo hoisted his hammer to parry.
Crash!
Sparks erupted in the dim light as the sheer kinetic force violently threw him backward, his boots digging deep furrows into the dirt.
‘This is exactly why orcs are such a pain in the ass.’
They didn't have a retreat reflex. Pain only made them faster.
‘Then again… I prefer it this way.’
When a beast loses its mind to rage, its movements become utterly predictable.
Behind the frenzied guard, the swarm of skeletons was relentlessly driving their weapons into his exposed back. Because the orc was completely ignoring his rear defenses, the damage was actually beginning to pile up. Yet, true to its stubborn nature, the monster's bloodshot eyes remained locked entirely on Min-woo.
Min-woo deflected two more slashes, stepping backward rhythmically.
‘Slow down. Keep steady.’
In a fight to the death, the one who rushes is the one who dies. Just like this orc.
Charging like a blinded bull, the guard suddenly hurled his glaive straight at Min-woo’s head. Min-woo jerked his neck. The heavy blade grazed his cheek, leaving a thin crimson line before whistling harmlessly into the darkness behind him.
In that fraction of a second, the disarmed orc opened its massive arms, throwing its entire body forward in a desperate tackle.
It was a smart tactical audible. The monster realized fighting with weapons was getting it nowhere, so it chose to rely on its massive weight advantage to pin and crush him.
‘A good plan,’ Min-woo thought, a grim smirk playing on his lips. ‘But…’
[Activating Demon Eyes of Terror (F)!] [Activating Haste (F)!]
For a microscopic fraction of a second, the psychological weight of the Demon Eyes caused the charging orc to flinch, its momentum stuttering. At that exact same instant, Haste kicked in, jolting Min-woo's body with a burst of unnatural speed.
That razor-thin difference in timing decided who lived and who died.
The orc’s massive, dirt-caked hands grazed Min-woo’s jacket by a mere hair’s breadth. As the monster stumbled past, carried by its own immense forward momentum, Min-woo brought the heavy war hammer down with the added torque of his entire body.
The blow connected squarely with the side of the orc's skull.
Crunch.
The monster’s face caved in violently as it slammed face-first into the dirt.
‘I can read you like an open book.’
Did this beast think this was Min-woo's first time handling an orc? They were the most common gate monsters in the book. More importantly, the current Kim Min-woo was operating at his absolute zenith.
He was no longer shackled by that wretched, talentless body of his past.
As the orc let out a pathetic, gurgling whine, the skeletons swarmed over its thrashing body like ants. After a few more frantic stabs, the light finally drained from the monster’s eyes.
[You have defeated a monster with an overwhelming level disparity!] [You have acquired the title: 'Hunter of the Strong'.]
It was exactly at that triumphant moment.
KU-OH-OH-OH-OH-OH!
A deafening, soul-shattering roar ripped through the battlefield.
[The Orc Hero is casting 'Disparity of Status (EX)'!] [An overwhelming presence floods the area!] [Your soul is violently shaken!]
Thud! Thud!
The bodies of the surrounding undead collapsed instantly, their bones turning to dust. The corporeal forms of the Death Knights and Liches began to flicker violently, losing their tether to reality.
Even Cedric, who had been stubbornly holding the line against the Orc Hero, stumbled back as if struck by an invisible hammer. Beside him, the massive skeletal form of the Bone Dragon crashed heavily into the dirt, unable to sustain its own weight.
The shockwave didn't just devastate the undead.
Thump! Thump!
Kim Min-woo's heart hammered against his ribs so violently it felt as though it would burst. For the first time in his life, he understood what it truly meant to have one's very soul shaken to its core.
‘Holy… shit…’
His muscles refused to respond. Strength drained from his limbs like water through sand. It was a skill that perfectly earned its name—a literal disparity of existence.
‘First the Dragon Lord… now this guy. This is the second time.’
Another entity wielding an EX-grade skill. Was there some sort of twisted connection between them?
Cedric wobbled on his feet, his hollow, burning eye sockets fixed on the Orc Hero before him.
This battlefield was his purgatory—an eternal loop born of his own bottomless regret. He had lost count of how many times he had traded blows with this monstrous warlord.
Yet, the conclusion never changed.
He always lost.
The heavy lance in his hand trembled violently.
Once, in a lifetime long forgotten, he had been a proud knight. It was a cliché tale; he was betrayed, and he was murdered. He had willingly embraced the curse of the undead solely to exact his vengeance.
As a Death Lord, he had marched across the continent as one of the four legendary cataclysmic commanders. For centuries, he had known no equal on the battlefield.
Until they showed up.
Even the Great Death Lord had been no match for them. One by one, the four commanders were systematically hunted down and broken. Cedric had been no exception.
The Orc Hero.
That monster had treated him like a pet, deliberately sparing his life and letting him flee, only to hunt him down again. And again. And again.
Undead do not possess the vibrant emotions of the living, but they are not entirely hollow. They are simply faint, like dying embers.
‘When did it happen…?’ he wondered listlessly.
When did his fierce warrior's pride curdle into this paralyzing, pathetic terror?
He had been utterly broken here. The Battle of Hrullunif. This was the exact soil where he had drawn his final breath. And up until the moment his eyes closed for good, he had been consumed by a bitter, rotting regret.
What right did he have to call himself a knight? A commander? He was nothing more than a coward who had spent his final moments running for his life. Yet, in some dark, shameful corner of his mind, he had felt a twisted sense of relief as death took him. At least he wouldn't have to run from that monster anymore.
Unfortunately, the universe was cruel.
He had opened his eyes once more, awakened into this endless nightmare where time reset infinitely. An eternity of slaughter.
‘My Lord… why…?’
It was only when the very first 'Challenger' entered this space that Cedric finally understood. This inescapable hell of eternal regret was a trial meticulously engineered by the Death Lord himself.
Since then, challengers would occasionally stumble into this eternal theater of war. The script was almost always identical. They would fail to endure the pressure, they would die, and their souls would be forcibly bound into the ribcages of ordinary skeletons—doomed to wander this endless battlefield for eternity.
On the rarest of occasions, a truly exceptional challenger would manage to survive the onslaught. When they did, they were given a choice: remain on this stage, or escape. Even if they chose to leave, the illusionary war would simply reset for the next victim.
But if they chose to stay…
‘They die.’
Invariably. And their souls would be harvested all the same.
Cedric knew how this script ended. He would be struck down by the Orc Hero once again, only to wake up when the world reset. He couldn't overcome it on his own. Everything was on rails, a predetermined tragedy. For Cedric, this wasn't a trial. It was hell.
The Orc Hero stepped forward, its massive frame casting a shadow over the fallen knight. It hoisted its colossal glaive high into the air, savoring the moment like an executioner at the gallows.
A definitive, unchangeable ending.
Cedric stared blankly at the descending blade, entirely resigned to his fate.
It was then that a voice shattered the oppressive silence.
"Don't you dare give up! You miserable piece of shit!"
A lone human figure blurred across the battlefield.
BOOM!
The descending glaive struck, but its trajectory was violently deflected at the last possible second, carving a deep trench in the dirt a mere inch from Cedric’s helmet.
The fallen commander’s eyes widened in sheer disbelief.
Regret.
Min-woo finally understood the exact nature of the ghost holding Cedric back.
An EX-grade skill was undeniably terrifying, but an entity of Cedric's caliber shouldn't have been entirely helpless against it. Yet, the knight had been rendered completely impotent, crushed flat under the weight of his own historical trauma.
‘Yeah, I’d regret that too.’
Cedric was a legendary knight. His ego must have been astronomical back in the day; Min-woo could tell just from the arrogant way the guy spoke. To have commanded legions of undead only to be slaughtered like a squealing pig? That kind of humiliation would leave a stain on a soul that a thousand years couldn't wash out.
So, how do you fix a regret like that?
One thing was crystal clear: he had to stop the Orc Hero from executing him. A man can't overcome his trauma if he's a pile of severed limbs.
‘Move, damn it! Move!’
Fighting through a wave of nausea and a headache that felt like a spike driven through his skull, Min-woo savagely pulled his consciousness together. He forced his stubborn, paralyzed nervous system to respond, fighting the invisible weight that had locked his muscles like concrete.
Slowly, agonizingly, his lips twitched.
He clamped his teeth down hard onto the inside of his cheek. The pressure mounted until the flesh tore, filling his mouth with the sharp, metallic taste of blood. The sudden shock of pain jilted his nervous system awake.
The icy chill paralyzing his limbs began to recede, replaced by a surging torrent of heat. Feeling rushed back into his fingertips.
‘I can do this.’
The structural talentlessness that had crippled him his entire life was gone. He focused his mind, sharpening his awareness down to a razor's edge.
A thousandth of a second. A ten-thousandth of a second.
He caught those micro-moments. It was this exact level of insane, hyper-focused concentration that had allowed him to sit at the absolute peak of the gaming world. It didn't matter that this wasn't a virtual reality anymore. This was real life.
‘Who cares?’
No matter the game, no matter the stakes, a true pro always finds a way to clear the stage. That was who Kim Min-woo was.
[Incomprehensible Mental Fortitude!] [Your soul begins to transcend its current limitations!]
He took a step forward. The second step was even easier.
And then, finally...
His body launched into the air, flying straight toward the descending trajectory of the Orc Hero's glaive.
[Your soul has refused to bend under any circumstance!] [You have acquired the title: 'Indomitable Soul'.]
The glaive was coming down slowly, almost casually, as if the Hero wanted to milk every drop of despair from the execution. It was a fatal mistake of arrogance, and Min-woo took full advantage of it.
CRACK!
[Your weapon has been destroyed!]
His iron sword shattered into a million useless shards, but it served its purpose. Cedric was still breathing.
"Don't you dare give up! You miserable piece of shit!" Min-woo roared, landing hard on the dirt.
Grrr…
The Warlord's eyes narrowed into slits, his amusement thoroughly ruined by this buzzing insect.
"Even a weak bastard like me is moving around perfectly fine! Are you seriously going to just sit there and take it?!"
—...
Cedric remained silent, staring up from the ground.
The Orc Hero began to close the distance, each step shaking the earth.
‘Ah, son of a bitch.’ Min-woo swallowed hard, his mind racing. ‘How many seconds can I actually buy here? Just avoid a one-shot. That's all I need.’
The Hero's arm blurred, the glaive slashing forward with terrifying economy of motion.
Min-woo saw it coming. He technically tracked the trajectory perfectly. He felt like he had executed the dodge flawlessly.
Spurt!
A violent spray of crimson erupted from his chest.
It was a terrifying reality: just because his eyes could see the attack didn't mean his body possessed the physical speed to outrun it. A white-hot, agonizing wave of pain tore through his torso.
[Your armor has been destroyed!]
His chest plate was cleanly cleaved open, exposing the pale bone beneath. It was a miracle of millimeters that his heart hadn't been sliced in half.
Somehow, through sheer force of will, Min-woo managed to stay on his feet.
Seeing this, the Orc Hero paused, tilting his massive head in genuine curiosity. This fragile, insignificant bug should have died. He had swung to kill. Yet, the bug was still standing.
Rattle, clack!
A faint, scratching sensation tickled the Hero's legs. A handful of newly summoned skeletons had crawled out of the dirt, desperately wrapping their bony arms around his shins.
Thump.
With a single, casual stomp of his massive foot, the ground ruptured, and the skeletons were instantaneously pulverized into fine white powder.
Taking advantage of the brief distraction, Min-woo frantically yanked a high-grade health potion from his inventory and dumped it directly onto his gaping chest wound. The sizzling liquid cauterized the flesh, barely halting the catastrophic blood loss.
His eyes locked with the Warlord's.
The Orc Hero's gaze shifted, a sudden, heavy seriousness settling into his eyes.
—You.
The monster spoke. Incredibly, the guttural, rumbling dialect translated perfectly in Min-woo's mind.
—Warrior.
The Hero gestured slightly, and one of the nearby Orc Royal Guards immediately stepped forward, unceremoniously tossing his heavy iron broadsword onto the dirt between them.
—Pick it up.
‘Well, look at that,’ Min-woo thought, coughing up a bit of blood. ‘The big guy’s got a sense of chivalry.’
He lunged forward and gripped the hilt of the broadsword. Because it didn't match his class or level requirements, he wouldn't receive any of its stat bonuses or special attributes, but right now, he just needed a heavy piece of sharp metal.
—Here I come.
The Warlord moved. The glaive traveled along a perfect diagonal line, an optimized path meant to bisect Min-woo from shoulder to hip.
‘Take it.’
Min-woo didn't try to block. Instead, he twisted his torso with everything he had, sacrificing his left side to save his vitals.
Suck!
His left arm flew into the air, severed cleanly at the shoulder. In exchange for the limb, Min-woo lunged forward, driving the borrowed broadsword straight toward the monster’s exposed bicep—
Clang!
The broadsword struck the Orc Hero's skin, but instead of cutting through flesh, it emitted a deafening metallic screech, as if it had slammed into a solid sheet of reinforced titanium.
‘Are you kidding me?’
His plan had been a classic tactical trade—give up flesh to bone, sacrifice a limb to inflict a debilitating wound. But the sheer, absurd disparity in their base stats meant he couldn't even break the monster's skin.
"..."
Min-woo found himself staring directly into the giant's face.
Fortunately, the Warlord didn't immediately follow up with a finishing blow. Instead, he looked at Min-woo with deep, genuine bewilderment.
—Why?
The orc's expression asked the question clearly: Why do you struggle so desperately when you know you cannot win?
Since the monster was being so remarkably polite, Min-woo decided to give him an honest answer.
"To protect. Reason. Do I need one?"
Min-woo pulled his lips back into a bloody, defiant grin.
The Orc Hero stared at him for a beat, then his lips peeled back, revealing a row of jagged, yellowed tusks. He was smiling.
And then—
BOOM!
A massive, tree-trunk leg shot out, planting itself directly into Min-woo's chest and sending him rocketing backward through the air.
[Orc Hero Mutakta has activated 'Destructive Strike'!] [You have sustained catastrophic damage!] [All equipped items have been completely destroyed!]
In mid-air, Min-woo frantically spammed his summoning magic, conjuring a dense pile of skeletons at his projected landing zone to act as a meat cushion.
CRASH!
Even with the skeletal padding absorbing the brunt of the impact, he hit the earth with enough force to shatter the ground.
"Cough... blegh!"
A massive torrent of blood erupted from his throat. His sternum was completely caved in from the kick, and dark blood was pouring out of the empty socket where his left arm used to be. His body refused to twitch.
‘Potion… need a potion…’
His vision was rapidly tunneling, darkness creeping in from the edges.
[Warning!] [You have sustained a lethal injury!] [The effect of 'Indomitable Soul' has been triggered!] [Your soul is actively resisting corporate death!] [Your Soul Gauge is beginning to rapidly deplete!]
[Soul Gauge: 46/50] [Soul Gauge: 42/50] [Soul Gauge: 38/50]
‘Am I… actually dying right now?’
It certainly felt like it. If that gauge hit zero, it was game over for his soul.
Every second stretched into an eternity, slowing down to a crawl.
The heavy, rhythmic thud of footsteps approached. The Orc Hero stood over him, the cold, razor-sharp tip of his glaive resting gently against the pulse point of Min-woo's neck.
—Good. Warrior. I am. Mutakta. You. Name.
[Soul Gauge: 34/50]
Min-woo’s lips trembled as he forced out two words.
"Fuck off."
[Soul Gauge: 30/50]
The Warlord blinked, then chuckled, a deep rumbling sound from his chest.
—Fuck off. I will. Remember.
[Soul Gauge: 26/50]
‘Gee, thanks a lot,’ Min-woo thought bitterly.
The glaive began to descend, plunging downward toward his throat.
Slowly.
Inch by inch.
[Soul Gauge: 22/50]
Right before the steel could bite into his flesh—
BANG!
A familiar, ornate lance slammed into the glaive, violently deflecting it away.
‘About damn time, you bastard…’ Min-woo thought, his consciousness fading.
[Soul Gauge: 18/50]
Cedric had finally moved his heavy ass.
The deathly knight stepped over Min-woo’s mangled body, his lance raised in a perfect combat stance.
—...Touch him again, monster, and I will tear your heart out.
[Soul Gauge: 14/50]
The vibrant colors of the world instantly drained away, leaving everything in a stark, frozen grayscale. Time stopped entirely, and a brilliant cascade of system messages illuminated the frozen air.
[Perfect Escape Conditions Met!] [Cedric has successfully overcome his eternal regret!] [You have won the absolute allegiance of the man once known as the Death Lord’s Commander, the Dragon Knight!] [From this moment forward, Cedric will fight solely for your cause!] [The Authority of the Death Lord: 'Summon Cedric (SSS)' has been unlocked!] [You have acquired the title: 'Master of the Dragon Knight'.] [You have acquired the title: 'One Recognized by Mutakta'.] [You have acquired the title: 'He Who Halted Eternity'.] [The Eternal Battlefield is beginning to dissolve.] [Exiting the Instance.]
‘Ha… you put me through all that hell just for this?’
Originally, Min-woo had planned to treat Cedric with a reasonable amount of respect as a powerful summon.
But plans change.
‘The moment I summon you outside, you are working overtime until your bones turn to dust. I swear it.’
With that final, vindictive vow, Kim Min-woo let the darkness take him.