Welcome to the True Man's World – 1.2

Max advanced through the darkness without fear, his torch lighting the way.

That was the only problem.

As soon as he lost the torch, he'd be screwed. He didn't have any special ability to see in the dark. In fact, his Skills section was empty, as expected for someone who had just started "playing."

With his new equipment, he should be able to handle the orcs without problems. And he was a special existence that grew stronger with each battle, albeit little by little.

Maybe right now he wasn't strong enough to face everything in the cave, but that could change quickly. He was only level two, after all. Any respectable RPG made leveling up faster for players who had just started, to hook them with quick, easy, and clear rewards to the game loop.

It was crazy to think about reality in these terms, but he was undoubtedly living in that kind of world now.

He'd better get used to it quickly.

In fact, he was adapting better and faster than one might expect. He could pat himself on the back for that.

Someone patted him very hard on the back, so hard he felt it in his bones even through the thick armor, then arms wrapped around his waist and squeezed to crush him. Lifting his feet off the ground. The torch fell from his hand, rolled across the floor, over the stones, not going out, at least for now.

He saw green skin out of the corner of his eye. A fucking orc, of course. Less noisy than one might expect, despite its size.

The orc laughed, tightening its grip, and Max saw red.

He wasn't going to let anyone laugh at him, much less a damn animal. Max struggled against its grip, fighting with all his might. He wriggled free, spun on his heels, and ran his sword across its neck. That also happened much faster than he expected. The monster staggered backward, collapsed against a wall, hand over the wound, thick blood oozing between its fingers.

Beyond the green skin and overly large teeth, it looked human. Very important details, yes, but similar enough that...

And yet he felt nothing in particular.

No, that's a lie. He felt victorious. Proud.

Full of life.

There's my answer, whether I like it or not. Maybe when he had to face a real human being, his hand would tremble. Maybe not. He'd better hope not. His opponent certainly wouldn't hesitate to gut him like a pig if given the chance.

Max had been born in a modern society and among the many privileged who didn't have to fight for their lives.

Even in those circumstances, the life of a single person was worth rather little.

He could only imagine how cheap it was in a world like this.

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The orc had no chance to counterattack. He had cut its throat, that was all. However, it was taking too long to die. Max approached carefully, dodged a swipe, and stabbed the son of a bitch half a dozen more times. Until it stopped moving and gasping, in pain, choking on its own blood.

Max inhaled and exhaled deeply.

"One down."

He had no idea how many more were left. He preferred not to know, to be honest. It would be easier to keep moving forward if he didn't know.

He picked up the torch and continued on his way. He didn't have to hesitate in that respect, at least for now he hadn't found a single fork in the path. He had tried to think of ways to make them come out, instead of venturing into their territory, risking fighting there. But he hadn't come up with anything good.

And if he died, well, at least he'd die fighting.

"Everyone told me I'm very brave, I'm a fighter, when I couldn't do anything," he whispered. "Now I can prove it. I will prove it."

After a while, he heard spine-chilling laughter and saw the first source of light that didn't come from his torch, so he approached the place, crouching. Trying to make as little noise as possible.

He couldn't put out the torch because he had no means to relight it.

They would probably discover him before he could attack them by surprise due to the torch, but damn, he didn't want to risk ending up lost in this cursed cave, alone and in the dark.

It turned out not to be such a terrible decision, however. The orcs he had heard were below his position and weren't looking up. No living being tended to do so.

There were half a dozen of them, the bastards. He had the chance to attack them by surprise before they realized it. Or he could wait, crossing his fingers that one or two, at least, would leave. Making things a little easier for him. Also hoping they wouldn't discover him, of course. Which could also happen.

He frowned.

No, none of that. Max left the torch on the ground and reached for the bastard sword.

It might be broken, but it was still a perfectly adequate tool of death. He turned it back and forth, brandishing it, aiming. Or trying to. He didn't do this every day. He doubted he'd hit the mark, but he had to try.

He was wrong.

He hit the bastard full-on when he finally released the sword, smashing its damn head. Max laughed. Surprising accuracy. Investing points in his Dexterity had been worth it, after all. As for Strength, he probably wouldn't have been able to escape the orc's grip if he hadn't increased it so much. Not in the same way, a direct contest of strength, in any case.

Small steps, but important steps.

The first steps of a long journey that ended with him challenging a god.

The other five kicked up a fuss. Potentially attracting many more. He had to end this, to be ready to battle the reinforcements or to sneak away, seeking to isolate them, one-on-one fights.

Max picked up the torch again and jumped from above, nimbly landing on his knees, softening the impact.

He went on the attack with the fluidity of the assault, without a single gap or slight delay. He didn't know the first thing about sword fighting, but it felt as if he had been studying the art of the sword for years.

Nothing particularly extraordinary, but enough to know how to handle himself in a fight.

Was it a Skill?

Was it instinct?

Something related to his Class?

Well, as long as he could keep this up, he didn't care much.

His sword and the club of the nearest orc clashed. Sparks flew between the weapons. They separated and met again, and again, again.

Anything that stood between them would be cut to pieces in an instant.

The orc's blows never reached him, but the force of the impacts made his arms tremble.

He could imagine the sword flying out of his hand. Even without considering that, the other orcs would be on him soon. He had to kill it quickly. That wouldn't change his numerical disadvantage, but he would definitely die if he wasn't able to kill it as fast as he had thought. He'd be overwhelmed as soon as he lowered his guard.

Max jumped back suddenly. The orc's club hit the ground, its spikes getting stuck in the rock.

For a short time, no doubt, but he didn't give it the chance to pull it out.

Max took advantage to stab it in the eye.

The blade slid smoothly into the brain, killing it instantly. Max quickly moved away, before the massive body of the orc could fall on him.

One down. Four to go.

Plus whatever was on the way, of course. He could hear them coming already.