The drums, thundering to the rhythm of a war tune, grow louder. Their vibrations ripple through the ground and the water, forcing Ethan to cancel predator's sight.

'I've been fighting in the desert for an entire day right after facing your coliseum beasts and a necromancer. Would it be too much to ask for more than five minutes of relaxation?' Ethan grumbles internally. Inspecting himself, he notes that his wounds are healed as if they never occurred, but his life force was also restored. He leaves the water and summons fire in his hands to dry his skin before summoning his clothes.

The doors that appeared are made of rough, thick wood planks poorly cut with an axe, leaving countless splinters. Light pierces its imperfections, casting rays into the room.

Ethan places a hand on each door and pushes them open with a long, creaking whine. It reveals an ochre mountain path leading up towards the peak. He starts walking forward, approaching the path's edge to glance at where he is.

Ethan looks in the distance to see a far-reaching, desolate landscape of ochre, barren stone lands through holes in the clouds. Tall trees with sparse leaves dot the landscape like taller Earth's acacias. A shroud takes over Ethan's mind, and he breathes in deeply, sensing the air's thinness.

Below him, on each side of a stair path leading down the mountain, Ethan sees the dozens of Orcs striking the drums that echo around. They wear red robes that hang off one shoulder and are tied at the waist by a rope, revealing their muscular physique. Several men are among them, wearing the same clothes and striking their instrument in the same, rhythmic manner.

To the side, thirty meters further along his path, Ethan spots two Orcs grappling with each other. The smallest lunges below the guard of his opponent to catch his legs and throw him onto his back.

"What am I here for?" Ethan mutters. By the look of it, he may be asked to beat these warrior monks in martial arts.

"This place is a temple where countless warriors spent their lives bettering their skills," the realm's owner says. He manifests from a rising plume of smoke, a sorrowful expression etched on his face. "Many promising mortals I welcomed to my realm came from here. But it doesn't exist anymore; only its ruins remain in the Dunharel desert."

"Is that why you look so sad? You said your role is to assert mankind's strength; I'm guessing it's a great loss for you," Ethan comments.

"Quite," the man confirms. He starts walking up the path, motioning for Ethan to follow him.

"Will you answer my question now? Why and how are humans from Earth able to manipulate Ether?" Ethan asks.

"After this next step, as a reward for your hard work," the man denies. They reach another set of doors, and he pushes them open, revealing a courtyard carved into the mountain's relief.

An Orc with long, braided gray hair and beard sits cross-legged in the center, meditating in the noon sun. His skin is saggy, but he still retains a massive build. Despite his aged traits, Ethan recognizes the face he fought with minutes ago.

"We are seventy years after the alignment of the overworld and Varnokh, near the end of his life," the man explains. "After the defeat of his people, he dedicated his life to martial perfection. Only a handful of his contemporaries were a match for his might and technique. Noble sons sailed the seas to come to his retreat, seeking mentorship."

"What killed him?" Ethan asks, curious but expecting it to be old age.

"His heart gave out. If they don't die in battle, Orcs' life expectancy averages eighty years. He exceeded that by three decades," the man explains.

"What am I supposed to do?" Ethan asks, circling the Orc from a safe distance.

"By climbing to my domain, you proved yourself worthy of my attention," the Orc growls in Eldorian. He rises to his feet to meet Ethan's eye level and holds his hand before himself, clasped as if he were holding an invisible sword. His eyes are locked on Ethan, but his expression is devoid of emotion, making him look like an expectant teacher.

Ethan glances where the man was and finds an empty spot. Summoning Stormshard, he comments, "We fought side by side, but I don't know your name. Would you be so inclined as to tell me how I should address you?"

"I don't remember sharing the battlefield with you," the Orc denies. A smoke rises from the ground and passes over him, remodeling his shape to sit him back on the ground. He opens his eyes and rises once more. "By climbing to my domain, you proved yourself worthy of my attention."

'Got the message,' Ethan thinks, convinced he's not allowed to share his previous experience with the Orc. Triggering Strengthening, he falls into a fencing stance, his left arm behind his back. "How may I address you?"

"You may call me Razak," the Orc replies. He falls back into stance, closing his hand around the air. The surrounding threads of Ether spiral into a vortex that sinks towards Razak's hand. The Orc swings, and his weapon appears as a buzzing shimmer of the light – a straight, guardless blade the length of a long sword.

'Does he have depth perception issues?' Ethan asks himself, the attack falling short by several meters. He peers into the Ether to analyze the blade but sees a wave moving towards him, cutting the threads it crosses. With a sidestep, Ethan avoids the invisible attack, watching as it reaches the wall behind him. The blade passes through the stone or vanishes as it touches it, causing no damage to the carved stone wall.

Razak follows up with a second slash. The energy blade he casts becomes visible but moves faster than the first one.

Ethan lunges below the attack, thrusting his sword at Razak's throat as it coats with cracks of lightning.

The Orc sidesteps with minimal effort, causing Ethan's blade to miss him by a millimeter. He counters with a downward strike, forcing Ethan to leap back and to the side, avoiding the propelled blade.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The pace accelerates, Ethan's and Razak's attacks becoming faster and more powerful as they gauge each other. Their blades clash with metallic clangs despite the unnaturalness of the Orc's weapon.

Mid-swing, Razak grabs his blade with his left hand, and his weapon grows; his enhanced length reaches above Ethan.

Ethan raises Stormshard in time to block the vertical strike that hammers him into the ground. His joints spark with pain under the force, but it is the invisible blade that strikes him the hardest. It doesn't cut or batter him, but the moment it passes through him, his Ether rushes away, spewing out of his skin. The sudden void takes his strength away, bringing him to one knee.

Razak's knee slams into Ethan's sternum, sending him skidding across the stone floor. Without pause, he swings his blade in the air, launching an attack that pursues Ethan.

The air rushes from Ethan's lungs, but he forces himself to stand, gathering back his Ether to restore Strengthening. 'Weapon aura,' he thinks as he swings, casting a blade of lightning at Razak's translucent wave.

The blades collide into a short-lived typhoon that throws around the room's contents.

The Orc closes his fists, lunging at Ethan to throw a right punch at his face.

Coating his blade with a Flame spell, Ethan slashes at Razak's approaching fist. Stormshard skids off Razak's fists, deflected to the side as if it struck impenetrable steel.

Razak's fist slams into Ethan's stomach with a force that sends him staggering. The Orc follows through, twisting his torso and legs to throw his other fist at Ethan.

Ethan stumbles, his breath knocked out of him. He adjusts his stance, his eyes locked on the Orc's hands. Coming at a perpendicular angle, he succeeds in blocking the next punch, but another is already coming.

Each impact sends waves of pain through Ethan's arms as he searches for a pattern in the timing of Razak's attacks. He notices that the Orc favors his right side, his left strikes coming a fraction of a second slower.

Ethan snaps his left hand's fingers as he attacks Razak's left fist. The Silence spell makes Razak's shimmering gauntlets vanish, and Ethan smirks as he commits fully to his attack.

Razak opens his left hand and presses his palm on Stormshard's flat, moving Ethan's sword to the side. Twisting his chest, he punches Ethan in the stomach with his right fist, squeezing blood out of Ethan's mouth.

'Fuck!' Ethan curses, pain sparking in his chest as he feels his lowest two ribs snapping. He hunches forward as the punch propels him into a wall, protecting his head from the impact suffered by his back.

Razak follows up by ramming his shoulder into Ethan's chest, digging him into the wall. He grabs Stormshard's guard and throws the blade away, Ethan unable to unsummon it because of Silence.

Ethan groans as his chest throbs with pain, his vision blurring. He brings his left elbow down on Razak's back, aiming for the spot between the Orc's shoulder blades. The impact is solid, but Razak barely flinches.

"You'll have to do better than that, human!" Razak growls. He moves back to give himself the room to twist his torso for another punch.

Ethan ducks under Razak's next attack and delivers an uppercut to the Orc's chin. The impact sends Razak staggering back, giving Ethan an instant to catch his breath. The pains in his chest flare as he inhales, cutting his breathing short.

Razak spits blood onto the stone ground. Ethan's Silence spell comes to its natural end, and the Orc restores the aura surrounding his hands like gauntlets.

Ethan summons the Purgatory Hands, coating them in Weapon Aura to counter Razak's power.

Razak lunges forward, his aura-clad fist moving in a blur.

Ethan meets the attack head-on, the impact of their fists sending shockwaves through the air.

Ethan's ribs scream in protest with each movement, but he ignores the pain. Each exchange of blows between them echoes through the courtyard's ground and walls. Soon, the fight devolves into a brutal brawl.

Ethan's right fist connects with Razak's jaw, sending the Orc's head whipping back. He hesitates to use the opportunity to cast a debilitating hex but refrains; this is too rare an opportunity to train his hand-to-hand skills.

Razak retaliates with a knee to Ethan's stomach and fast jabs to the face; he narrowly dodges with last instant upper body side jerks. Razak smiles as his attacks miss. He lowers himself before extending his entire body into a punch aimed at Ethan's chest – a perfect attack. The chain of muscles used by the Orc extends the entire length of his body from his feet to his fist.

Ethan brings his open hand to deflect the attack to the side, but it carries too much strength, and his arm buckles under it. Never has he seen such a perfect move outside of katas, and the pain it inflicts speaks volumes. In an instant, Ethan's stance is broken as he's hurled into the same wall as before and bounces back to fall flat on the ground.

Razak jumps after Ethan to kick him into the ground with both legs.

Not wanting to test this realm's resurrections, Ethan summons his life force into his Ether and bursts to the other side of the room. His body screams in pain, several more of his ribs broken by Razak's punch. He inhales deeply, ignoring the agony as he gives in to the thrill of battle, focusing only on the Orc.

Razak laughs again, his deep voice making it seem like distant thunder. He relaxes his body an instant before hurling himself at Ethan with a thunderclap.

Ethan opens his palm to catch Razak's punch and turns around, bringing Razak over his shoulder before throwing him on the ground. The Orc impacts the stone floor with the full force of his attack, face first. Still holding the Orc's arm, Ethan spins, twisting Razak's shoulder out of its socket.

Razak kicks the ground, propelling himself into the air. His abled arm backhands Ethan's shoulder, forcing him to let go as he moves back. The Orc lands on his feet and grabs his dislocated arm, resetting it with a pop.

Ethan closes the distance, throwing quick jabs that land on Razak's guard as he raises his arms. Seeing his opponent's high guard, Ethan kicks him in the liver, but to his surprise, the Orc doesn't flinch.

Razak capitalizes on Ethan's need to restore his balance after his kick and grabs both of Ethan's forearms. Razak headbutts Ethan, but the latter lowers his head and propels his skull into the Orc's nose, making him let go of his arms.

Ethan catches Razak's head, drags it down, and hurls his knee into his nose, sending him reeling back. Exceeding Strengthening's limit with his life-force enhanced Ether, Ethan hurls his fist at Razak's head. He pours his entire weight behind it, twisting his torso and legs for maximum impact.

A shimmer of light shields Razak's face, as if he formed a piece of plate armor above his skin at the last moment. Ethan punches through it, breaking the shimmering form into countless dust-like shards. Razak rolls his head with the impact and spits blood, staring at Ethan. His left hand grabs Ethan's right arm, anchoring him as he throws his right fist into Ethan's sternum.

Ethan staggers back, unable to breathe. Black veins rise along his neck, and he feels himself becoming weaker as he consumes too much of his life force.

Razak throws a punch at the air, and a wave of translucent Ether passes through Ethan, squeezing the Ether out of his body. He falls onto his back, unable to move as he suffers the over-Strengthening backlash.

An audience formed at the door's frame, staring bewildered at Ethan and Razak. They are the many Orcs and men who were training and drumming outside. Some look around the room, their jaws lowering as they see the large amounts of blood.

"Melee Weapon (Long Sword) leveled up. Melee Weapon (Gauntlets) leveled up (x10). Life force manipulation leveled up."

Razak extends a hand for Ethan to take and pulls him to his feet. He turns towards the monk-looking men and Orcs. "I believed I told you to enter this room only when you're convinced you can best me."

Stress rises in the crowd as they cower back, slowly moving back outside.

"No matter. This one here has proven quite capable, and I want a feast to celebrate his coming," Razak says with a growled laugh. He turns towards Ethan to add, "That is, if you plan to stay with us and take part in our quest for strength."

"For now," Ethan replies, short of breath.

"Then it is decided!" Razak exclaims, clapping Ethan's back with his massive hand, emptying the air from his lungs. "I have wine older than you that will heal those little wounds."