Chapter 121: The One That Got Away.

“Hey, Haell,” Therick called out to me once we stopped the wagons for a short break. It had been months since we left the Singing Vortex wonderzone and separated from Elfrafim. “Wanna have a duel?”“A duel, you say?” I raised a brow. I occasionally sparred with my friends, but a duel was different. It was a competition, and there would be a clear winner. “Okay. I’ll bite.”

“Great!” Therick smiled and tossed a dull steel greatsword over to me. He held a smaller sword of the same harmless make. “Let’s do first vital hit wins!”

“Oh? You know I still wouldn’t likely die if that happened, right?”

“Well… yeah. But that’s why it’s a duel! A friendly duel! We’re not actually trying to kill each other here.”

I thought it over for a few seconds, then shrugged. “Fair enough.”

I shifted my hooves and lowered my stance. The time for negotiations had come and gone.

I charged. My opponent didn’t do the same, but instead took a defensive posture and parried my opening strike. My momentum was spent, but neither could my opponent capitalize because I had pushed him back so hard that his hands shook. His sword might’ve cracked if I had coated my own with mana like I usually did, but I did not do that for this exercise for safety concerns. Mere steel might actually be deformed by my own power at this stage anyway.

We recovered at nearly the same time, and then a few more exchanges followed wherein my enemy was barely able to stay alive. I grew more and more annoyed each time, and my muscles rose in power in tandem with my wrath. Therick had really gotten stronger, as he was blocking and parrying strikes that should’ve folded him long ago.

Still, the ultimate result was inevitable. He was brought to his knees and I moved my sword closer to his neck to end the duel, but he dodged at the last moment, and .

It was a futile effort that would never reach.

The sword was undoubtedly too short to reach me from there, but I still heard and felt a ping in my armor.

Therick had extended his range through strange means.

“I did it!” He jumped up. “I won! Ahahaha!”

“You…” My mind froze, and then resumed in a rapid stream of thought. During that entire battle, it made no sense that he was able to hold back the weight of strikes. It should not have been physically possible. “You have achieved anatomic mastery?”

“Yep!” The one who had defeated me continued to revel in his victory. “It’s awesome, isn’t it!?”

All my training had gotten more efficient because of my Memory Core, but I had spread myself too thin. During the time I had been busy learning from Elfrafim in the Singing Vortex, my friends too had been making strides of their own. If only I had focused more on the sword, then I would not have lost. It was my greatest weapon, and I had neglected it. I had been a fool, and that was

“You tricked me!” was the accusation that came out of my mouth.

Therick stopped celebrating. “...What? Yes? That’s the point…? I don’t think you can argue that it was wrong when you’ve been using magic the entire time!”

“But you know about that! And my magic was internal, but that definitely wasn’t! I could’ve ended you in seconds if I were allowed to use the same fucking tactics and you know it!”

“...Shit, Haell.” He sighed and deflated. “It’s still part of my swordsmanship, that’s what anatomic mastery is. I’ve finally done it. Can you really not give me even that?”

I opened my mouth for another violent retort, but my conscience finally caught up and I came to a screeching halt.

I was being a massive flaming asshole.

I should be celebrating his accomplishment right now, but instead I was so super fucking butthurt over a single insignificant loss.

I didn’t know what came over me. I just… I got so angry. The wrath took over. I thought I had well and thoroughly conquered that part of myself, yet here I was, hurting the people I cared about because of it.

What the fuck was I doing?

“I’m sorry,” I said sincerely. “That was my bad.”

Therick glanced back up at me, but said nothing.

“I… it’s my wrath. It just… came back. You know how it is.”

“I do,” he confirmed blandly. I winced.

“Sorry again. And uh, I’ve ruined the fucking mood. But congratulations on achieving an anatomic mastery. That’s what I should’ve said from the start. Not rained on your victory and… yeah. That was terrible of me.”

“Okay.” He allowed himself a thin smile. “Thanks.”

The world faded. There was only me and the sword.

My body moved, in a series of motions that resulted in a slash. My mind worked and examined this one moment. My analysis took only another moment, and then I repeated the motion with a single-minute adjustment.

This process repeated. It was done for every move, every stance, and a multitude of common possible flows in a battle. I had acted like an asshole to Therick the other day, but I did have a point about how I should focus more on my swordsmanship. It was the best weapon I had to defeat those who were stronger quickly.

“Haell! It’s time to eat!” Time had flown away from me, and I joined my friends at the camp with the intention to continue my training later. Maybe when we stopped by the next town, I could use most of my free time for it.

Slowly, gradually, after months of effort, I began to see improvements in my swordsmanship. I saw the difference when I fought monsters without ever letting them touch me, and I could function for longer as my movements became more efficient and refined. It was amazing how much a change in stance could cause so much less damage to my body whenever I overloaded my muscles with wrath magic.

But it was not enough. I had hit a wall. I could not develop an anatomic mastery, when Therick who was also training even now, had done it. I had the advantage of my memory core, so I should be so much better, but that was not the reality in front of my evil eyes.

I remembered a certain creature I saw just the other day.

I decided to do something drastic.

I found myself running across the untamed plains by myself. We had just stopped by a village and I informed my friends of my plan and that I needed some time alone. I reached a river that should be isolated enough, and then I put on the new clothes my girlfriend made for me. I looked like a lavishly wealthy medieval noble knight with all the purple and blue fabrics I had stuck onto myself.

Yes, I did take joy in the cosplay, beyond the disguise it offered.

Finally, after traveling some more, I spotted the beings I was looking for.

Except I didn’t, actually. They were goblins. I killed them with a disappointed sigh, and then moved on. There might be more of the creatures around, but I really didn’t think a whole infestation was going to happen here of all places if my information was correct.

A good sign appeared later on when I spotted another group of green humanoids, but this time it was the I was looking for.

“RAAAAHHHH!!” I yelled excitedly, waving my sword around. It was cursed, but not yet coated and bound to me by wrath. The orcs rushed towards me and then stopped when I held my posture straight and ultimately pointed the blade at who I felt was the strongest among them.

The almost level 20 orc paused, and then offered me the same gesture.

“AAAAAAAGGG!!”

Her sword was pointed right back at my own, and the rest of the orcs stepped back to make room for us to fight. They watched as if they could be included in the battle at any moment as they quite honestly had the perfect ready stance for each of their chosen weapons. Their attires ranged from wearing light armor or just plain loincloths that were clearly not made for their size that just about equaled my own. I wasn’t even obscenely big, but they had such slim pickings that they could not even accommodate for that.

That was interesting, but I largely ignored them in favor of charging down my opponent like a train about to crush a damsel tied to the rails. The orc in front of me raised her sword and managed to at least put it in my path, but I simply batted it aside and then continued with my momentum to slam the broadside of my greatsword into her whole torso.

She fell in a coughing wheeze, and I did not pursue further. She slowly recovered, and I thought back to the fight. I did not think she had an anatomic mastery at all, but I could not possibly expect every single orc to have achieved that level.

Finally, she stood back up and howled their gratitude. The other orcs lost interest, and absentmindedly swung their weapons around. Some observed their surroundings instead, swung their weapon at random patches of grass or rocks. One watched me with wild eyes, and then lightly swung his hammer. I dodged it, and then a faster swing came for me. I parried it with my greatsword, pouring more power into the blow in my annoyance, and the orc was knocked on his ass.

He stood back up, made a wheezing-breathing noise that might have been a laugh, and then pointed his hammer at another orc. This one was an orc woman wearing heavy gauntlets who had defeated that rock with punches that had perfect form.

“ROOOOAAARRR!”

“REEEAAAARRRR!!”

She returned the greeting, and they clashed. I watched in dumbfounded amusement as they both moved like masters despite their silly behavior. They didn’t have an anatomic mastery quite yet either, but I decided that I would bet on them against anyone else of their level. The gauntlet orc tried her best to get close, and she delivered devastating blows whenever she managed to do so, but it was never as strong as it could’ve been because she always came to the fight wounded. The hammer orc could not always keep her away, but he made sure that he managed to at least deliver a glancing blow whenever his opponent managed to slip into his guard, and he quickly pushed her away with his hammer whenever that happened. The battle continued as bruises racked up on both their bodies, until a particularly bad blow to the thigh finally forced the punching orc to one knee.

A ten-count sounded in my head, and the fight was over before I could finish.

I turned to the other orcs, who had gone on to spar with each other as well, except without a roar to announce any of them. I noticed that they were moving too slowly, and then I realized that it was because these fights weren’t really serious. They were just playing.

An orc was hit by a club, and he vomited blood.

I waited for a moment longer, and then decided that I should say my piece now.

“So! Will you take me to your village?”

“Oog.”

“Arr!”

“Ighh??”

Half of them paid attention. Some grunted their… responses. And then they got back to what they were doing before, whether that be sparring, lounging, or writhing on the ground.

“Arragggg!!!” The same orc that I’d fought earlier eventually said, and they all began running… in some direction. Those who were more heavily injured struggled a bit to catch up, but they still managed to not be left behind as they hefted their weapons and sallied forth. Their running forms were all different, but paired with whatever weapon or fighting style they chose perfectly. They were way too spread out and almost flowed in and out of each other’s way.

One had gone in the wrong direction entirely, and was not coming back.

“Hey! Wait up!” I called. To the greater mass of orcs, not the one that got away.

“Org!”

“Ooog!!”

“UUuuHH!!”

I got a few acknowledgements, but no one waited. I didn’t think they understood. I knew they wouldn’t, so I just followed after them until they found a herd of deer, and all of the orcs(except for the one that got away) converged upon the herd. The deer tried to get away… and they were largely successful, but two were too slow. They paid the ultimate price for their tardiness as the orcs caught up to them and immediately started swinging.

The orcs were all really good with their chosen weapon, but I found out today that they weren’t actually all that good at teamwork. It was a chaos of blood and gore that paled in comparison to what came .

The deer died, and the orcs They ripped apart dead meat with their bare hands, and plunged their heads into the carcasses to drink the blood of their enemies. Bones cracked like delicious chips, and flesh rained in the mess they were making. There was no decorum here, no manners; only the most base expression of

I had… seen animals who were more respectful.

So naturally, I tried to join in.

“AAAAHHHH!”

“OOooOohHH!”

“UuuGGGGG!!”

“Okay, okay!” I laughed when they started screaming at me. I waited for them to be done, and then luckily spotted a nearby lone rhino. They started racing for it, still evidently hungry, but I was . I reached the animal, slashed it in the neck, dodged the clumsy attempt at a headbutt, and then finished the job.

The rhino’s head rolled on the golden grass, and I plunged my hand deep into the stump left behind on the body to scoop out meat and blood and bring it to my mouth.

I would have gagged had my sheer control over my reaction not been godlike.

It was shit, and this was no way for a proper demon to eat.

Certainly not this fucking sober.

“Ogg?”

“OOOG.”

“Aaag!!”

The orcs made some noises once they finally caught up. They stared at the large hunk of meat that was the carcass of my foe, and then they began to disperse.

This behavior confused me, until it finally clicked.

“No! Wait! WAIT!”

One orc looked back, and I pulled the rhino carcass to him with wrath-empowered muscles.

“Orrggg.”

He didn’t understand, so I shoved his hand violently into the rhino’s dying wound.

The orc pulled it back, then stared at the blood in his hands.

He licked it.

He looked at me.

I did not react.

The orc grew bolder and ate everything that had stuck to his palm.

Upon seeing that I still did not care, he lowered his head and began to from the hole where the rhino’s head used to be.

I laughed and separated a chunk of meat from the animal’s back before the rest of the orcs could arrive and join the feast.

I properly seasoned and grilled my own using the supplies from my pack while the orcs set to their free meal with wild abandon.

My helmet clattered to the ground. My armored boots followed, and then my makeup was washed away. The contacts upon my eyes were the last to go, and I looked at the orcs who were just about finished after having carved great chunks upon the corpse of what was once a rhino.

They looked at me, they grunted, they sparred, and they rested.

None gave a shit about how I looked like, and that just felt so refreshing. Here, I didn’t need to hide.

We took a break there for a short while, and I was just about to get some meditation in when I heard an orcish roar from afar.

“UGGGOOORRRRRR!!!”

He was pointing his axe at the same orc I had fought before, and she accepted with a roar of her own.

“AAAGGAAAAAAAAARRRR!!!”

The battle commenced, and I settled in to watch with the other orcs. The axe sailed through the air with massive force, but the sword-wielder dodged and stabbed at her opponent. Blood dripped out of the wound, but it was shallow because the axe had successfully cornered her into a position where she could not accomplish anything more. The axe returned for another attack, and the sword orc fell back. The axe wielder pressed the advantage, and the sword slashed out to parry and softly redirect its momentum so that the other orc could successfully dodge. This did not always work, and sometimes the sword orc suffered some massive gashes across her flesh.

This furious clash continued as more and more wounds piled up on their bodies. The orc woman suffered from a few terrible wounds that could hardly be stopped by her chainmail, while the orc man bled all over from smaller but more plentiful cuts and punctures that targeted the gaps in his leather armor. The fight ended with one particular clash as one orc plunged her sword into her opponent's chest, while the other chopped through the right side of his opponent’s guts.

They both fell and stilled.

“Did they just… die?” I asked as everyone else cheered.

It made perfect sense. The orcs often fought each other seriously, and they weren’t always in a position to spare each other. This was the only logical outcome.

The orcs continued about their day as they sparred, trained, or lounged about. I joined them, sometimes exchanging blows, and at other times swinging my sword on my own.

At one point I decided to sit down and meditate. I had not trained my hyperdemon gland with Elfrafim in the end, but I had begun preparations just in case I really needed to use it one day. My wrath demanded my own death too, so I searched for a reason to live when I hated literally everything.

The answer was spite.

Pure fucking spite.

I clung to that single ideal, and made it resonate with my mana. I unleashed my wrath and redirected it, for I wanted to become too angry to die. My death would be my final defeat, and what could be more hateful than that?

I continued to cultivate this image. I did not know if it even worked. I hoped to never find out.

I came out of my meditation to an orc that I thought dead once again walking amongst the living. He was the one who had previously wielded the axe, and the wounds on his chest were still raw but had definitely closed and healed. The other orcs who had been injured during this journey had also healed, and I concluded that resting greatly improved an orc body’s regeneration capabilities.

One orc remained dead, however, and it was the one I had first interacted with on this trip. This made me reconsider how I should interact with them, but ultimately decided to just let nature take its course. Though I would at least try not to hold grudges if one I liked fell in a proper duel, where I otherwise would’ve absolutely taken revenge for the fallen.

Our journey continued from here, and orcs came and went into our group; both because they just went somewhere else, or because they died in battle, sometimes to their compatriots.

Days passed, night fell, and the number of orcs we encountered grew as we went deeper into their territory. We encountered another party of orcs, and two of them immediately challenged two of our own. The orcs battled, and those on our side lost. I gathered from the slashes that extended past the blades, that at least one of the enemy warriors had a full anatomic mastery.

No one died this time, and after a couple hours of rest, our two parties merged and continued to travel.

Our trajectory this time took us further away from the heart of this orcish territory, which did irk me, but I had never actually asked them where we were going.

I decided that it was fine, and after a day or so, I found an opportunity to duel the orc woman with the very noticeable anatomic mastery. Her two shortswords… or long daggers sent waves of slashing power with her every slash, and while I was pretty sure my armor could take it, I wanted to be fair so I parried each and only missed a few as I made my way over to my enemy.

She was still formidable in close range, and she got a few good hits in to my extremities as I evaded the blade but not the slashing wave that followed. It was a real killer to not know this about your enemy, as I had also learned from Therick, so I sparred with her until I could at least tell when a sword wave was coming.

I observed her movements as we sparred, and I realized that her every move whenever she wielded a sword just felt like they were It was a subtle difference, but being able to spot this would help me assess an opponent, and it had given me a clearer goal to aspire to. I even noticed an improvement to my instincts as I became able to somehow not-yet-very-accurately tell if a new orc that joined our group had an anatomic mastery or not.

I took it upon myself to challenge those orcs, and the fights actually became quite difficult at some point. I unleashed magic around me to inform the orcs that I had it, but still refrained from using it in the fights as they might get confused and decide to attack. Magic caused them to react in various different ways, but it was good that they didn’t really care about me using it internally to boost myself and my physical capabilities. A few did attack me for the display of magic I chose to do, but they very simply , and the rest did not care. I found the orcs to be very callous about their dead, as they were often just left there in the open to rot.

Our travels continued, and I began to hop from group to group to actually start making it to my destination instead of going around in circles. I clashed with the stronger orcs, and I could feel myself getting better as I incorporated their techniques into my own style. My memory core leveled a few times, as I used it to analyze and combine the treasure trove of martial arts that I had found. I even took inspiration from the orcs that used other weapons, as I painstakingly adjusted them just to see if they would be useful for my build as a demon who carried a big-ass greatsword.

It seldom worked, but I gradually grew better. My strikes became heavier, I parried lighter, and my core became immovable from where I stood. It was not quite an anatomic mastery, but I was very proud of what I was able to accomplish with raw technical skill.

My dream yet remained unrealized, but I had made great strides.