Avince crouched behind a crumbling rock formation, eyes fixed on the two orcs in the distance. The adrenaline that had surged through him upon realizing the danger he was in had finally started to settle, but his heart still beat with a steady thrum of fear and worry.

Orcs, he thought, shaking his head slightly. I was supposed to be fighting goblins. This shouldn’t have happened.

He exhaled slowly, recalling the system of ranks used to categorize monsters and adventurers alike. The rankings had been put in place by the World’s Alliance as a way to provide a universal measure of power and threat level. From the weakest F-rank, to the terrifying S-rank that only a handful of individuals in the world could reach, it was a simple but effective way to gauge an opponent’s strength.

Monsters like slimes and goblins were typical F-ranked creatures. Easy prey. Civilians without any real abilities could often take them on, and even a child with basic training could hold their own in a 1v1 fight. That was what Avince had expected here—a dungeon full of weaklings. Goblins, perhaps a boss at the end that might push F+, or, at worst, a low E-ranked creature.

But the orcs in front of him? No way they were F-rank. Even from a distance, Avince could sense their raw power. They were much stronger than what he had prepared for.

These two… Avince bit his lip. They’re at least upper E, maybe even nearing D-rank.

That realization sent a fresh wave of unease through him. D-ranked monsters were a different breed. They were stronger, more dangerous, and required more skill to defeat. Orcs in particular were known for their durability, strength, and combat intelligence. Even a small group of them could wipe out an inexperienced team of adventurers.

The worst part? If these two were already nearing D-rank, that meant the boss of this dungeon could easily be C-ranked. And Avince, despite his ability, wasn’t ready for that. Not even close.

He thought back to his own rank. Before his ability had awakened, Avince had been a solid mid-tier D-ranked individual, which was impressive for his age. It had taken years of training, magic study to reach that level. Even without an awakened ability, he had been proud of what he’d accomplished. He could wield basic elemental mana, strengthen his body using raw energy, and manipulate magic with a level of precision that surpassed many of his peers.

But now, despite his newly awakened ability, he is technically unranked. The accident during his first dungeon run leaves him without time to register his new powers with the Alliance. He had no official rank to match his growing capabilities, and no one knew just how powerful he had become—himself included.

I have to stay calm, he told himself. Panicking won’t help. I just need to fight smart and conserve my energy. Avince thought while feeling his mana reserve with only 50% left.

Suddenly, movement in the distance caught his attention. The two orcs had found a target—a lone deer, wandering through the cracked, barren landscape. They stalked it carefully, their massive forms moving with surprising silence for creatures their size.

Avince’s eyes narrowed as he watched them prepare to strike. This is my chance.

The orcs were distracted, focused entirely on their prey. If he could catch them off guard, he would have a better chance. The key would be speed and precision. He didn’t have the brute strength to take them head-on, but he didn’t need it. His magic, when used correctly, could be just as deadly.

Avince’s fingers twitched, summoning mana from deep within himself. He felt the familiar surge of power as it coursed through his veins, like liquid fire, and began molding it to his will. His mastery of elemental magic had always been his strongest suit, even before he gained his ability. He focused on speed, channeling wind magic into his legs, enhancing his movements, making him lighter, faster, deadlier.

The orcs were closing in on the deer. This was the moment.

With a burst of speed, Avince launched himself forward, a blur against the desolate backdrop. He drew the mana around him, conjuring two spells at once. Fire and ice, opposites in every sense, but in Avince’s hands, they became a deadly combination.

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As he neared the orcs, he released the first spell—a concentrated burst of flame aimed at the back of the larger orc. The fireball hit its target with a satisfying boom, engulfing the creature in flames. The orc roared in pain, spinning around with rage-filled eyes, its body smoking from the sudden attack.

But Avince wasn’t done. Before the second orc could react, he unleashed a second spell—an ice spear that flew through the air like a missile, striking the smaller orc in the chest. The ice spread quickly, coating the orc’s torso in a layer of frost, freezing its movements.

The larger orc, still ablaze, swung its massive club toward Avince with reckless fury. Avince ducked, the air around him crackling as he used wind magic to propel himself out of range. The orc’s club smashed into the ground where he had been standing moments before, sending up a cloud of dust and debris.

Avince landed a few feet away, panting from the exertion. That was close.

The second orc, now freed from the ice, charged toward him, its axe raised high. Avince barely had time to react. He summoned earth magic, raising a barrier of stone in front of him just as the orc’s axe came crashing down. The impact shattered the stone, but it slowed the orc’s attack enough for Avince to roll out of harm’s way.

I can’t keep this up forever. He could already feel the drain on his mana reserves. The orcs were relentless, and their sheer size and strength made them difficult to put down.

But Avince wasn’t ready to give up. He needed to end this quickly.

With a surge of energy, he infused his body with mana, strengthening his muscles and enhancing his speed. He dashed forward, weaving between the orcs’ attacks, moving too fast for them to land a clean hit. He summoned another ice spear and hurled it at the larger orc’s leg. The spear struck true, freezing the creature’s limb in place and causing it to stumble.

Seizing the opportunity, Avince conjured a powerful blast of wind, knocking the smaller orc off balance. With both orcs momentarily disabled, he focused all his remaining energy into a final spell—lightning.

Lightning crackled in the air as Avince extended his hand, releasing a bolt of raw electricity that struck the larger orc directly in the chest. The creature convulsed, its body seizing up as the lightning coursed through it. The smell of burning flesh filled the air as the orc collapsed to the ground, dead.

The other orc, still struggling to free itself from the icy bonds, let out a furious roar and charged at Avince one last time. But it was too slow. With a swift motion, Avince summoned a blade of pure mana and slashed across the orc’s chest. The creature let out a final grunt before crumpling to the ground beside its fallen comrade.

Panting heavily, Avince stood over the two orcs, his body trembling from the exertion. His mana reserves were dangerously low, but he had done it. He had won.

He bent down and retrieved the monster cores from the orcs’ remains. Both were unattuned—exactly what he needed. He absorbed the mana from the cores, feeling the energy flow through him, replenishing his reserves. It wasn’t a full recovery, but it would be enough to keep him going.

I can’t stop now, Avince thought grimly. I’ll have to keep this up.

For the next three hours, Avince fought his way through the wasteland. He targeted lone orcs or pairs, knowing that anything more would be suicide. Each skirmish was a desperate battle—brutal and exhausting. The orcs were relentless, their strength overwhelming, but Avince had cunning on his side. He struck with precision, using the terrain to his advantage, turning the wasteland itself into a weapon. Every kill was hard-earned, his muscles screaming in protest as he felled each foe.

Yet, with every victory, his confidence grew. He felt the surge of mana coursing through him as he drained the orcs’ cores, replenishing his own reserves. It wasn’t just about survival anymore—it was a test of his endurance, his power. And with each battle won, he became faster, stronger, more in tune with the dungeon's brutal rhythm

But even as he fought, he knew that these small groups were nothing compared to what awaited him deeper in the dungeon.

Finally, after hours of fighting, Avince found what he had been dreading. In the distance, nestled in the heart of the wasteland, was the orc stronghold. It was a crude, makeshift settlement, with towering walls made of bones and stone. Dozens of orcs moved about inside, patrolling the area, guarding the central building.

And there, in the middle of the stronghold, was the portal. The exit.

Avince’s heart sank. There were too many orcs for him to fight head-on. If he tried to rush the portal now, he’d be overwhelmed.

I need to come up with a plan, he thought, his mind racing. I need to lure them out, create a distraction… something.

As he crouched in the shadows, watching the orcs move about their stronghold, Avince’s mind whirred with possibilities. He had made it this far, but getting to the portal would be the ultimate test.

And there was no room for error.