Despite his heart trying to break loose from his chest, Kieran refused to hesitate the way his first messy foray into mortal combat went. Instead, he focused on his footing and steadied his breath whilst he kept pace with Illya, walking towards their new foes.

On the whole, his mental state seemed in a considerably better place than last time too, feeling more focused and grounded in himself, not to mention far less concussed too.

The blazing fire at their group's backs would obscure the vision of anyone entering the room. Bright light sent their flickering shadows dancing about the open doorway and he felt confident he could claim the advantage early.

Two orcs stumbled into the room, immediately confused by the comparatively bright light filling it, they dropped their torches to the floor as they shielded their eyes.

Each step felt crisp and responsive as his feet beat across the ground.

His confidence rose when he observed their weapons, each orc carried a carbon copy of those heavy clubs he'd already stopped viewing as a serious threat.

Both men rushed forward In a frantic scuffle of shoes on dry dirt, confronting the intruders that lingered just inside the narrow entrance to the space.

An unfamiliar initiative fueled Kieran's body as he got closer. He felt the overwhelming desire to attack, to run towards the danger and violence and meet it head-on. He felt the urge to kill swell inside him as his body's mana swirled more violently than ever befoe compelling him to fight.

Weapons ready, both men held firm until they were just within two meters of the orcs before initiating their attacks.

Kieran thrust out with both hands, weapon piercing in a straight line toward his foe's exposed chest. With a sharp exhale and primal yell, the lethal point flew forward and he learnt into the attack wholeheartedly.

The rugged sword penetrated effortlessly straight through the muscular neck of the rightmost orc, vibrating slightly as a serrated patch scraped across the spine. The sword slid in so deeply that Kieran’s knuckles almost touched the creatures coarse-looking skin.

A wet choke splashed blood into his hands and he reacted quickly, tugging on the roughly wrapped hilt and pulling the weapon out in a single smooth motion that he paired with a quick step backwards.

His feet scraped across loose stones as a veritable fountain of blood sputtered messily from either end of the wound, barely grazing him.

Kieran just watched the orc, seemingly frozen in place for a few seconds.

Rivulets of blood poured through the rows of gnarled yellow points as it choked its last breath. The warmth of that vile dark viscous liquid ran down both of his forearms and he scarcely resisted the impulse to wipe it off, the sensation truly disgusted him. But when he felt subtle threads of mana diffusing directly into those parts of his hands and arms, he decided to leave it a little while longer.

A sickening crunch disturbed his split focus. The Orc’s limp head gruesomely cracked upon the uneven rock. Kieran didn't move for another couple of seconds, watching to make sure it stayed down for good.

In that moment of waiting, however, he became enticed by the sight of the blood-smeared rocks at his feet. orange light shimmered across a dark, growing puddle that ran across the stone, releasing more mana into the air.

A small, almost silent inner monologue urged him to reach out and claim the mana from the pooling blood. It was his now, after all. He’d earned it.

Vivid flashes and sights of another darker, endless pool came unbidden to his mind. He shivered all over at the mere echo of the pain left behind by that overwhelming ball of fire from his nightmare.

Though he reminded himself it was only a dream, his mind still felt hollow from fear. Kieran's mana-induced reverie only broke when a high-pitched pig-like squeal pierced his ears from the left.

Kieran didn’t notice the tall figure of his friend dart in almost simultaneously with his offensive lunge. Illya instead struck the Orc in its club-bearing arm with a fluid and sweeping blow that disarmed the green monster and caused it to yell out wildly in pain.

In a clearly well-practised dance of fluidity, Illya dashed slightly forward and to the side of his enemy a beat later. With a quick swing, he sent the hatchet edge directly into a green trunk-like neck. His small axe lodged in its spine and the force lifted the creature off its feet for a second before gravity pulled it violently to the floor in a spray of blood.

Kieran's hands shook from the violence as he watched Illya destroy the Orc with minimal effort.

The feeling of so easily killing another creature confused his thoughts, especially now that a growing part of him was genuinely enjoying the rush he felt from it all.

“This still counts as self-defence, right?” Kieran asked through only slightly heavier than normal breaths. Resisting the powerful urge to wipe his hands and wrists clean on his jeans, he considered the morality of such effortless murder.

“I’m not so sure, my friend. It would appear that in single combat these fools pose but a minor threat to either of us”

Illya's words rang true to him. Nothing about this seemed difficult, especially with Illya’s obvious confidence in fighting. Something he realised would make total sense for someone from a Kingdom under constant siege from beast attacks.

And this guy said he uses a spear normally? Kieran grew more and more interested in learning from those that even Illya considered teachers far above him in skill.

Kieran also worried how Nathan might be faring in that unknown tutorial, and if the ‘Chosen’ people there were also using medieval melee weapons like him. He considered all those times Nathan, and he sparred together back and forth with the savage intensity only good friends, or enemies, could comfortably maintain, and he hoped it would help his friend at least half as much as it was helping him right now.

“It’s strange, I barely got anywhere with swordsmanship classes back home, but these guys are a whole other level of slow, especially with their big dumb caveman clubs. Did they seem abnormally crap to you?.”

"Yes, it appears these orcs are mere grunts, used for menial work and basic duties, I’d wager. Don't lose focus though Kieran, more dangerous foes may yet await us" Illya grinned at him briefly as he flicked his hatchet out to the side to throw off the excess blood that hadn’t dripped free of its own accord.

“For such a handsome guy your brother’s pretty fucking scary too” Kieran cackled to Neaila behind them as he moved away from the fresh corpses back to Neila.

And the way he cut that orc down looked completely methodical, he moves with that casual finesse only instructors display.

Kieran almost forgot that his new companions weren't human. The eerily beautiful smile on Illya’s face, now flecked with dark splotches of blood, served as a fresh reminder for him.

Illya joined him, deciding to also gain a little space from the entrance to the tunnel until they were sure there were no more orcs on their way.

Whipping his chunky blade to the side in a poor mimicry of Illya's flamboyant motion, he swung most of the blood off his weapon. The clumsy action elicited a sweet chuckle from Neaila behind them.

Kieran spared a glance back at her, admiring the pure mirth on her angelic face.

She's calm about the blood and gore, too…

"Kieran, eyes forward!" Kieran stifled his embarrassment quickly when Illya reprimanded him for admiring Neaila in the middle of a fight.

Bros before…never mind, I gotta focus up.

"Yeah, my bad mate" he awkwardly mumbled and shook his head to clear his thoughts.

He looked back to the dark opening of the tunnel just in time to see another couple of short Orcs waddle their way into the room. The first of the two hesitated in the doorway when faced with the sight of its two dead companions. Kieran almost made fun of how scared the creature looked as it lingered just inside the opening, scanning the room back and forth with another useless club in hand.

Another one? It’s free real estate baby–

Something smashed into the feeble orc from behind, launching it squealing violently into the air for a long second until the hard ground silenced it for good.

Kieran was in shock, unsure what the hell was happening until he saw the second grunt run into the room and immediately move to the side to leave the opening clear, apparently making room for the six-foot-plus monster of an Orc that swaggered in, ducking slightly through the doorway.

“Holy shit”

This orc towered above its shorter companions, broader in every way when compared to the grunts Kieran had come across so far as it stepped fully into the light he saw that this orc even had a few patches of leather armour adorning its legs and chest–still far better than what the others wore.

A deeper, noticeably less pig-like roar filled the cavern the moment the giant orc stumbled upon the bloody remains of its dead allies, causing Kieran's bones to itch under his skin. A wide, roaring mouth opened enough to display fang-like rows of yellow teeth and much longer and more intimidating tusks that stuck up past the tip of its wide flat nose.

Kieran felt a fit of almost primal anger boil up in his chest to quell any sense of fear he or anyone normal might have felt seeing another creature such as this come to kill them. Normally he’d be on the verge of pissing himself, but the frequent clashes with death and the rolling waves of hot mana that filled his chest kept him focused on the enemy ahead.

As the orcs finally seemed to notice the assailants who had murdered their brethren, its deep black eyes bore into Keiran's watchful gaze. He felt his heart thud louder in his chest as he held eye contact for a weirdly long time, the green leathery face scrunched into what was clearly an expression of rage and hatred for the human and Elnari man alike.

Propped over the noticeably larger and more muscular shoulders, the bigger Orc wielded an axe far larger and more intimidating than the measly hatchet he had gifted to Illya previously. Kieran realised they must have given all the basic low-quality weapons to the grunts whilst the big badass orcs got the real weapons. He only prayed that there weren't any more of these huge fuckers coming down the tunnel too.

The intimidating orc gripped the double-bladed chunk of metal in both hands, hefted its long wooden shaft into a batter swing, then with a warcry that sent dirty spittle flying, the creature stepped in front of its smaller friend and began to stomp toward both men with a ferocity that gave Kieran pause.

Dread crept into his heart as he felt each heavy footfall echo loudly through the cell.

Shit, this one's built different.

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"Careful Illya" he warned.

"It seems a bit bigger and mad as fuck, should we work together?" He asked as he took a step to his left to position himself closer to his oddly calm Elnari friend.

Kieran was a little worried about the risk of taking a single hit from that fiercely heavy-looking axe, adamant it could cleave a limb or even head off in one swing.

Illya was oddly quick to disregard the suggestion.

"No need, I've dealt with berserker types of other species before, just follow my lead" he casually sighed and then spoke almost to himself.

"This is going to be quite uncomfortable for me though"

With a deep breath, his long lean frame crouched down suddenly and he took what seemed to Kieran an overly wide stance, rear foot planted solidly in the ground, the front leg bore his weight almost like a coiled spring.

"The moment I dispatch the larger one" he called back loudly, voice straining a little.

"You’ll need you to follow up and cover me for as long as you are capable, whilst I deal with the skill backlash."

"Wait, what skill? What's the backlash?" Kieran called out in concern, his mouth hung open as he witnessed a strange sight unfold before his eyes.

A field of subtle blue light rapidly emanated from his friend's entire body.

Huh? That’s Mana?…what's he doing?

Kieran gaped, seeing the faint light flow uniformly down Illya’s torso and then legs. The glow buzzed to a peak of wild density as it seemed to compress further, and Kieran realised he could feel strange tingling against his skin despite being ten feet away.

Kieran's heart trembled slightly, memories flashed with the image of Nathan, glowing blue then vanishing before his eyes.

No, this is totally different. Illya said it was a skill.

His eyes peeled wide to not miss a moment, incredibly curious how skills even worked, especially a combat one and not just his awkward breathing ability. Staring intently he watched the young man across from him whip his hatchet up high, outstretched behind him in what Kieran thought was a very telegraphed attacking position. Next, Illyas face contorted into one of intimidating focus, and what seemed to be discomfort too.

All the blue energy buzzing in the air around him condensed inwards with a sudden whoosh, disturbing even the surrounding air and mana as Kieran felt the wind brush against his skin on its sudden rush toward his companion.

Irrevocably drawn to the route the glowing mana took, Kieran's attention became fixed on the dazzling circular patterns that he could just about see as each thread of mana swirled down through Illya's body. In a single breath the twisting hurricane of mana condensed in a wild spiral down to and then back up from Illya's rear foot.

The vibrating glow shot up through the man’s body to his outstretched hand in a violent torrent towards his readied weapon.

First, the shaft glowed bright blue, and then the rough metal axe head amazingly began to radiate a flickering deep blue shine like a gas burner.

Kieran stood still in utter shock and amazement.

Illya exploded forth in a dazzling stream of blue light and the roaring sound of rushing air. Kieran's wonder only grew when his eyes failed to keep track of the man who appeared to fly forward faster than a racecar before disappearing from view.

The sound of heavy metal hitting stone resounded out loudly in the cavern.

Recovering from the flash of brightness, Kieran looked to the origin of the unexpected noise. The Orc's big mauler of an axehead clattered to the floor, shaft sundered in half. The monster's ugly expression and even its entire body seemed to completely lock in place.

Then Kieran realised both of its arms were missing from the elbow down, blood dripping from the clean cuts. Looking closer, Kieran also noticed a perfectly straight line of blood stretching horizontally across its torso, just above its stomach and entirely in line with the bleeding stumps.

Kieran feared the cut on its chest was not lethal enough from how thin it appeared, that is until a wild spray of blood gushed out, and the upper half of the Orc slid free in one giant lump of bisected meat that flopped heavily to the floor, cleanly separated at the pristinely straight wound.

Another second later, Illya appeared exactly where he’d first disappeared from. His pose seemed almost identical to the moment before he had vanished forward to what Kieran now realised was a move to completely cleave the huge burly Orc in two.

Kieran looked back at the big dead Orc, confused. The bottom half of its body dropped in a delayed reaction, joining the rest of its ruined corpse on the ground, dead as a doornail.

"What in the hell was that?!" Kieran blurted without thinking, truly stunned into disbelief at the display of pure power and agility Illya displayed.

Somehow, the man crossed ten or so meters in a near instant and cleaved the beastly creature in two with a single strike, and even more confusingly, he did all this with a small one-handed hatchet that would normally struggle to take a single limb off.

Looking back to Illya he noticed the man still held his strange pose, but the short hatchet was gone, only a tiny splintered shard of the wooden handle remained clutched tightly in Illya’s hand.

"Brother no! Kieran, help him! please!" Neaila called out in distress, it clearly took everything she had not to rush forward to try and assist him herself. The panicked plea prompted Kieran to wake from his stunned daydream.

He moved quickly with a noisy sprint across the stone and closed in on his friend evidently just in time. As if a puppet with its strings cut, Illya dropped to his knees, hard. His arms fell limply by his sides and headed drooped low.

Kieran stepped in front of his kneeling ally before the one remaining Orc could even consider posing a threat in its shock and fear.

The scene of the thick muscular orc split completely into two distinct halves with blood and organs strewn across the gap between them would have made Kieran hesitate too.

Fuck me, he did all this with that measly little hatchet? how? What kind of bloody skill does that to someone?

"Are you okay mate? you're not hurt anywhere are you?" Kieran spared a worried glance over his friend as he held Illya upright by the shoulders.

The Elnari were naturally pale, but now the man’s skin appeared ghostly white and lifeless as he slumped on his heels, wheezing heavily.

"I–yes…" Illya barely huffed out between heavy breaths.

"I just..need time" Sweat beaded down his sunken face.

"Protect…Neaila" he meekly pleaded as Kieran gripped his shoulder in reassurance.

"Okay mate, I'll do my best" he promised with a smile in what he hoped came out as confidence.

"I can't do any badass ultimate moves like that though, I'm not even level six bro!" Kieran tried to joke but Illya was unresponsive, his eyelids flickered shut.

Nope, he definitely isn't getting that one.

"Anyway, you just rest up okay? Once you're better you can tell me what the hell that sick as fuck skill was all about" Kieran smiled with more fake confidence that he did his best to believe in.

Thankfully, the terrifying technique Illya had used to destroy the burly axe-wielding orc had scared the fifth and final member of the group into a state of confusion. The short green oaf was seemingly contemplating if it would be cut down the same way as its bigger and stronger peer, that is until its eyes locked onto Illya's feeble, disarmed form.

The sight of his weakness must have given the dumb beast some courage, it didn't even pay attention to Kieran standing there beside him as it took a step toward them both. Kieran's chest pounded freely again like a great battle drum as he felt pure rage at this cowardly green bastard.

Kieran watched in anticipation as the approaching orc readied its very large club above its very bald head and began to eagerly trudge forward with increasing enthusiasm.

"Well…bollocks, here goes nothing" he swallowed down saliva as he took a breath.

And no element of surprise this time…

Both hands returned to his hilt, he squeezed tightly to assuage the nerves and let his shabby sword drift into a low guard, his muscles tensed, ready to bring the weapon up in a quick slash with all his strength.

Kieran lightly stepped ahead of his kneeling friend to keep his enemy safely out of reach of the deflated man's recovery. This drew the approaching oaf's attention finally, shifting its direction a little toward Kieran it let out a guttural yell that echoed in the chamber, clearly trying to intimidate Kieran.

It's us or them!

The thought encouraged him on into more violence and what he hoped would be a quick kill like before.

The orc sped up at the last moment, lunging across the last ten feet in a few flurried stomps, the club held high and ready to cave in Kieran's head. A sense of calmness settled into Kieran as he scrutinised the Orc's aggressive movement right up until it got into his range. He stepped forward and to the left then darted forward off his rear foot, using his momentum to add power, he swung his weapon upward in a diagonal slash and pushed ferociously as the chipped edge bit right into the thick forearms of the creature.

A yell escaped both their mouths at almost the same time, one of angered effort and determination, whereas the louder squeal was full of pure animalistic pain.

He exerted more pressure through his arms, turning with his hips a little later than he should have–still, something gave way.

The dark blade sliced one of the thick green wrists free in a spray of dark blood that filled Kieran with a sense of relief. A wet meaty hand and wrist hit the floor along with the heavy club and Kieran smiled with a feral sneer.

Yes, now I just need to finish–

Pain flashed in the side of his head, and Kieran was on his knees before he even knew what hit him. Too distracted by his successful counter, he stupidly hadn't seen the orc swing it's now free remaining hand to lash out a wild fist right into his skull.

Kieran rolled to the side in confusion and dizziness, the floor tilted erratically beneath him for a few seconds as he realised he'd been hit painfully hard and reflexively tried to gain some distance.

Motherfucker can still fight right after losing half its arm, what the hell!

Not wanting to give too much space, lest the orc target Illya instead, Kieran scrambled back to his feet and made sure to block its path to his friend. The flickering dark orange world spun around him rapidly, and that increasingly familiar wobble of head trauma clouded his body's senses whilst he breathed his way through the intense throbbing pain down his right temple and cheek.

Only a few seconds was all it took for the room and floor to level out around him, thankfully, his legs steadied a little when he took a tentative step to make sure he wouldn't fall back down. Kieran's mana breath helped him considerably more than he realised as the rolling ramped up his body’s regeneration drastically, burning mana by the second.

"Okay, budget Shrek!'' he chided, pretty pissed that he'd been knocked down so easily and even bitten his tongue a little on the way.

"round two bitch, let's go!". The Orc didn't move from its spot, standing exactly where he'd left it as the need to shit talk an already wounded enemy helped resolve his desire to kill.

The Orc still didn't respond at all, simply clutching a raw and bloody stump in its free hand as it keened like a dying dog.

Kieran wasn't feeling one hundred percent yet but he didn't want to waste time now that his adrenaline was fading and his limbs felt a bit less stable. It took only a few rapid steps to reach the wounded Orc, and with another yell fueled by his anger at being concussed for the second time today, he whipped the bloodied jagged sword toward the orc in an exaggerated feint towards its waist. The confused creature stuck out its one-and-a-half arms to defend itself instinctively, only to grasp nothing but air as the dark edge whistled past its meagre defence.

Kieran wasn't sure if the pain had made it slow or if all the shorter orcs were just imbeciles with zero reaction time, but the simple feint had paved an easy route for his weapon to bury itself brutally into the front of the creature's unprotected neck.

With the power of his legs, he drove forward with all his body's momentum, forcing the blade deeper until it dug into the bone and crunched once more. The confused Orc slammed to the floor without another sound, the blade fully lodged in its mostly-severed spine.

The rancid smell of orc blood didn't even bother Kieran half as much as when he'd first been sprayed with the gross liquid, he was more annoyed about his jeans getting ruined further when he felt another spray onto his shins.

Somehow, he was also sure his mind was becoming increasingly numb to the experience of killing these creatures too–the guilt instead replaced by a visceral hatred for these stupid creatures that dared keep coming after him.

He was at least thankful for the fact they were insistent on bringing their mana-filled bodies right to him, like meals on wheels.

All the blood and death in the cavern had seemingly filled the air was a hugely greater density of mana than he had seen since landing in this shitty dungeon. Heart still racing from the fight, Kieran didn’t even think before he started to huff and puff in a more practised rhythm of heavy breathing. Mana fled the dirty dungeon air for his comfy warm body without him even needing to ask twice.

Very little time passed until Kieran's chest grew warm and tight from the inhaled energy. Not wanting to risk the bodily impurities turning him into a walking rotting turd again, he decided that was just gonna have to be enough for now. Maybe if he found a nice body of water that he could use to clean up afterwards, he’d give the whole manabody upgrade thing a shot. Not to mention his companions' sake too, they deserved far better than the stench he had already exposed them to.

A short sniffle from behind him made him look back. Neaila had been crying as she held her kneeling brother.

But when he met eyes with her she smiled so happily in return. “Thank you, Kieran. You were so brave...I-I only wish you hadn’t let them off so easily after all they’ve done though”

she continued to sniffle, resting her head against her brother’s.

Kieran stood there for a moment, full to the brim with mana, and feeling victorious in a way entirely different to anything else in his life before today. He’d never once fought like this to protect someone, and he had to admit he genuinely liked how it felt.

Any sense of heroism or pride he felt fled as he unceremoniously pulled at his sword once, then failed twice to free it from the dead Orc’s spine.

Oh, come on man…