*Cough. Cough*

Azrakar sputtered back to consciousness, a crimson surge erupting from his mouth. He nearly choked to death. His vision remained blurry, unable to decipher his surroundings. Azrakar attempted to move his body and the instant he did

Agony, a searing pain flooded every fiber of his being. He jolted upright, his vision clearing instantly.

"What! UGHH!" The pain was unimaginable. He never experienced something like this before. His entire upper body throbbed relentlessly.

"Haaah!...wait, just me upper self?" Azrakar was bewildered. It defied logic that only his upper torso would be in such excruciating pain.

He tried to move his legs, but he couldn't. Not because of pain, but because he couldn't feel them at all. Then it hit him. "The fall killed me legs?"

Indeed, Azrakar was now paralyzed. The fall had been so brutal that it had irreparably damaged his spine. His only hope rested with the wise orc of the tribe. Perhaps he could heal him, but Azrakar was smart enough to know that wouldn't happen, mainly because of the first problem he was facing now.

How on earth would he reach the tribe with no legs? Even if he somehow managed to get there, there was no guarantee the wise one could heal him, or that he'd even be given the chance.

Orcs wouldn't waste their magic on someone weak and useless like him. Azrakar was grateful for the wise one's past interventions when he'd gotten into fights, but otherwise, no - you had to earn the right to be healed.

This is the way of the orcs.

Azrakar released a deep sigh, surrendering his body to relaxation. He glanced around and discovered himself in a sort of pit in the ground. The white sky above him, he guessed that it was the mist he saw before falling.

Thump.

"Hahah~ this is a joke, right?" Azrakar chuckled in disbelief. He lifted his head slightly, his gaze drawn to the source of the sound.

How could he forget that he hadn't fallen alone? The creature that had driven him into this predicament, the creature that had fallen with him due to that lightning strike, that very creature was rising, its eyes blazing with fury and a thirst for blood.

"HAHAHAHA~" Azrakar couldn't help but laugh, finding humor despite his dire circumstances.

The Bison was also in a terrible state, mirroring Azrakar's injuries. With a broken horn and a gaping wound on its side, likely inflicted by a tree branch or a sharp rock, the Bison managed to stand on its one unbroken front leg and slowly began to approach Azrakar.

"Is this where I die? Weak and alone?"

Azrakar clenched his fists, forcing himself to raise his head, ignoring the tremendous pain that erupted from the slightest movement. He glared at the approaching Bison with pure rage and hatred.

"I will NOT die before I have me revenge, do you hear me..." Despite the overwhelming odds and his desperate situation, Azrakar refused to succumb to despair.

"Not you, or an Alpha, a chief, and not even the humie king, all will know and fear me name!"

Azrakar's resolve burned within him like an unstoppable inferno, his words echoing in the pit and beyond. He refused to accept dying here, paralyzed and alone.

The Bison, still battered and broken, continued its slow march towards Azrakar, its sole purpose to end his life.

Azrakar scanned his surroundings, searching for anything that could be used as a weapon. He darted his eyes left and right, finding nothing, but then he noticed something behind him from the corner of his eye. A black box of some kind. With a fleeting glimpse, he recalled seeing this box before plummeting into this hole.

Azrakar didn't hesitate and began crawling towards the black box. As he crawled, pain and frustration fueled his every movement. With each excruciating inch, he drew closer to the mysterious object.

The Bison, driven by bloodlust and pain, continued its sluggish approach. It reached Azrakar's legs. Seeing his prey attempting to crawl away, the Bison didn't hesitate to slam its hoof down on one of Azrakar's legs, shattering his knee.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"UGHHH!" Azrakar let out a hoarse scream of pain. Even though his lower half was paralyzed, he still felt the excruciating pain of his shattered bones. Nevertheless, he refused to yield to despair, not with the box mere inches away from him.

With sheer willpower, he extended his arm as far as he possibly could, trying to grasp the object. His green fingers barely brushed against the box.

"Cough...A little...closer," he rasped.

Meanwhile, the Bison reared its hoof high, its intention clear: to crush another part of Azrakar - his spine.

However, before it could land the blow, Azrakar managed to snag the box in a swift motion. With a surge of adrenaline, he spun around and delivered a powerful blow with the box, connecting squarely with the Bison's face.

BOOF!

The Bison crashed onto its left side, its body shaking from the unexpected attack. Azrakar, on the other hand, ignored the screams of his own body, clutched the box tightly in both hands, and raised it above his head.

"Die," he snarled.

He slammed the box down on the Bison's head repeatedly, fueled by rage and years of pent-up hatred. Blood splattered everywhere, but Azrakar continued his relentless assault.

"DIE! DIE!"

He pummeled the creature for minutes without pause. By now, the Bison's skull was fractured beyond repair, and it lay motionless on the ground. Yet, Azrakar didn't know or care. He kept striking, unleashing all his frustration, anger, and the hatred that had festered within him for years as an outcast in the tribe.

A weak orc, but now that same orc had managed to slay a massive Bison, a feat that even seasoned warriors found challenging.

ROAAAR!

With a final, resounding blow, Azrakar unleashed a mighty roar that resonated throughout this forsaken place. Immediately after, he collapsed onto his back. His heart rate plummeted, mirroring his shallow breaths. He was dying, and Azrakar was acutely aware of it.

Clink!.

An unrecognizable sound captured his attention, With a herculean effort, he turned towards the source and discovered it was the black box.

The box now lay open. Azrakar grabbed it and placed it on his chest before prying it further open.

Inside, a small, crimson cube glowed, its light illuminating the dark pit. For a moment, Azrakar forgot his pain, or perhaps he simply didn't care anymore. All his focus was on the mesmerizing red light emanating from the cube.

"Oh!...Shiny"

Unconsciously, he reached out and grasped the cube. The instant his fingers made contact, the cube shattered into countless pieces. The fragments hovered above Azrakar in a circle before descending toward his chest. Each fragment pierced his skin, embedding itself within him.

Azrakar let out a soundless scream, the sensation akin to being stabbed by a thousand spears simultaneously. The agony was unbearable, causing his consciousness to fade. But in the back of his mind, he kept hearing strange voices. He also failed to notice strange and mysterious runes that materialized before his eyes.

[Host detected]

[Activating Product: #00001 Nexus]

[System synchronizing with the Host]

[Failed: Unauthorized race detected]

[Alert: Host in critical condition. Immediate healing required]

[Top priority: Host's life]

[Error! Error!]

[Bypassing race restriction; successful]

[System synchronizing with the Host]

[Successful: System activated]

[Commencing healing protocol]

Within Azrakar, a strange energy surged forth from the center of his chest. The energy coursed rapidly through his veins, reaching every corner of his body.

The energy soon began its work of restoration, mending his internal injuries and meticulously realigning his shattered bones. Each bone fragment was meticulously guided back to its original position.

An observer from outside might perceive that time itself was slowly moving backward as they witnessed Azrakar's transformation. His wounds knitted themselves shut, his legs regained their former functionality, and his skin returned to its healthy green hue.

As this miraculous healing unfolded, Azrakar found himself experiencing a dream, not quite a dream, but rather a vivid memory from his past.

Death and Fire.

A young Orc crying in the middle of a blazing fire, surrounded by the corpses of his fallen kin. Azrakar remembered it all too clearly. This was the day his tribe was obliterated by the mysterious race from beyond the plains known as "Da humies" by the orcs.

Azrakar never forgot the man responsible for his father's death. The image of the gleaming golden armor and the radiant sword still haunted him to this day. That day had left indelible scars on his soul.

For some reason, the man had spared Azrakar's life when he was just a child. He simply approached, pointed his sword at Azrakar while uttering unintelligible words, and then plunged the blade into his chest, giving him the X-shaped scar. After that, Azrakar lost consciousness, only to awaken two weeks later among the Stonehand tribe.

…

Cough! Cough!

Azrakar lurched violently, rolling to the side, coughing blood. He almost choked to death. As the violent coughing fit subsided, Azrakar lay there, gasping for breath, the taste of blood lingering on his lips.

He pivoted his head to the side, his gaze landing on the lifeless Bison. A surge of triumph welled up within him. "Hehehe~...Eat that shit you bastards! Me an Orc warrior now…HAHAHA"

He erupted into hysterical laughter, his joy was over the roof, yet tears began streaming down his face.

For the first time in his life, Azrakar savored the taste of victory. Sadly, Azrakar knew that this feeling was only for a one-time in his life because now he was a half-orc, broken and left for dead.

"Damn! He broke me legs, how can me survi–"

"Huh?"

Azrakar's eyes widened in astonishment as a peculiar sensation coursed through him. He could feel his legs again. Immediately, he tried to flex his right leg. To his utter disbelief, it responded.

"ME LEGS!" he exclaimed, scrambling to a sitting position and inspecting his limbs. The moment Azrakar rose slightly, a shimmering red rune materialized before him.

"What is this?" He reached out to touch the rune, but a voice echoed directly within his mind, startling him.

[Welcome, User]

[I am Nexus]