Alistair hunched down behind a rotting log, trying to avoid being spotted by the twenty or so orcs congregating in the forest. Regional Map told him that they were around a hundred meters away, but the surrounding evergreen trees were thick and his vision was obscured.

“So you were a semi-pro MMA fighter? What’s that mean?” Alistair asked to pass the time as he looked down at his map. Compared to the last time he had viewed Krazz’s headquarters, there must have been at least 5 more little red dots roaming around.

“I had one fight for a smaller promotion, not the UFC or anything like that,” she said, writing off her accomplishment while also staring at the map.

“Uh-huh. You should be the one fighting with your fists. Or at least, you should teach me some moves.” He slowly stood up, making sure to blend in with the trees, and beckoned Alexandra to move as well.

“I like my knife very much, thank you. But seeing you in action, I shouldn’t have been so dismissive of punching things. The added stats make it much more effective than I would have thought.”

They were silent as they carefully tiptoed deeper into the forest. The further in they went, the darker and creepier it became. The foliage enveloped the vermilion firmament and Alistair had to turn off the map because of its luminescent properties.

“Maybe we should swap status screens? Before we fight, I mean. Just to know each other’s weaknesses and strengths,” Alistair whispered as they inched closer to the center of the encampment. Even without the assistance of the Regional Map, he knew they were close. Loud grunts and the harsh fricatives of the orc’s native language echoed through the false night as he spotted a fire in the distance.

She grabbed his arm and he turned back to find her eyes boring into his own. In the red moonlight, her baby blues were muted into a deep brown.

“Alright,” she said after a moment. “I trust you.”

Name Alexandra Lykaios Species Human (Unevolved) Class None Level 13 Health 115/147 Mana 15/35 Strength 65 Agility 18 Constitution 21 Endurance 13 Intelligence 9 Wisdom 7 Charisma 8 Badges "Premium Initiate", "Fledgling Strength", "Orc Slayer I"

Talents None Skills [Empower Weapon], [Inspect], [Contract] Quests [True Orc Slayer] Achievements Conquer (I) Name Alistair Tan Species Human (Unevolved) Class None Level 13 Health 80/123 Mana 11/84 Strength 26 Agility 32 Constitution 21 Endurance 19 Intelligence 30 Wisdom 14 Charisma 18 Badges "Premium Initiate", "Good Samaritan" Talents None Skills [Mana Punch], [Inspect] Quests [King Orc Hunt], [True Orc Slayer] Achievements Discovery (I)

His status screen had grown a row that said Discovery (I), but other than that, he was very used to the display of his person by now. It had originally been weird to see his whole existence summed into a series of numbers, but at the moment he was far more interested in seeing the difference between him and Alexandra.

He was honestly surprised by how low her other stats besides Strength were, but he supposed it made sense. Her 65 Strength had to have come at certain costs. It did make Alistair wonder how far you could take maxing out a stat. Could he just put 1,000 points in Agility and have every other stat below 50? What would happen then?

“Damn, you have some well-balanced stats. 84 total Mana?” Alexandra whistled.

“It's been full like one time, I've honestly been putting points into Intelligence just to recover Mana since I use it so fast. So your [Empower Weapon], how does it work? Can you cast it multiple times?”

“It’s a one-time thing usually,” she replied. “It lasts for five minutes and so far I haven’t had a fight last longer than that. It only costs 5 Mana too, and considering I have jack shit in that department, I’m thankful.”

Alistair couldn’t help but feel jealous that her offensive Skill lasted a whole five minutes. His own [Mana Punch] dissipated after mere seconds and cost 10 Mana. He could use up 80 Mana in the course of under a minute and his strikes weren’t even as damaging as a single blow from Alexandra’s tactical knife under the effect of [Empower Weapon].

“So what’s the plan?” Alexandra asked.

Alistair was a bit surprised she was asking him for advice when she was the one who introduced him to the Quest to kill General Krazz, but he took it in stride. He was glad she respected him that much.

“I was thinking you distract Krazz’s minions while I take on the general. With your Strength you can destroy the red ones in a single blow, and with my Agility, I can take on the boss easier.”

Alexandra nodded. “That sounds good to me, though it is annoying to give up the kill to someone else considering it is my quest, but whatever. Let’s do this.”

She took out her knife from her belt and followed Alistair closer to what looked to be a campfire. From around fifty feet away, he spotted a group of four red leader orcs surrounding the warmth. A couple of feet away, a larger gathering was making a ruckus, and Alistair would have sworn some noise analogous to laughter was coming out of their mouths. Disturbing, sacrilegious orc laughter that made his bones shiver.

They were playing some kind of game involving a bunch of metal rods, one of the shorter and smaller orcs throwing a bundle into the air, with the other eyes raptly watching the trajectory and fall of each rod. Every time they landed, some of the orcs would yell or moan in anger while others seemed quite jubilant. It honestly looked not too different from human festivities, Alistair thought.

Behind the larger group of orcs was a decent-sized tent. Considering the absence of a large gold-colored orc, the general was probably situated inside the tent.

Alexandra leaned in close to Alistair’s ear, her breath warm against his skin. “You go on the opposite side, away from these guys. Once I make my move, that’s your opportunity.”

No more words needed to be spoken as Alistair traversed through the cover of the woods. Luckily, the noise of raucous celebration and the unnatural darkness made him practically undetectable. He made it to the other side of the clearing, opposite the campfire, with the large tent only a couple of feet away.

He waited in silence, his heart pounding faster and faster each second that nothing happened. He had one chance to take Krazz unaware, and he didn’t intend to squander the opportunity.

“HEY!” Alexandra’s voice echoed at a superhuman level of sound. “OVER HERE!”

The loud noises of the camp died instantly as he saw the orcs turn to the origin of the interruption. With a snarl, most of them started to charge after Alexandra, who then retreated in the opposite direction from Alistair.

His heart skipped a beat as he saw a ruffling of the tent. A moment later, a golden-skinned orc stepped out. Even Alistair had to admit there was something majestic about the creature, just like the vision he had seen of Prince Kalgur. His skin was so bright it almost glowed against the night sky, and instead of the regalia of his prince, he went shirtless. Krazz’s muscular back was marked by raised lines that almost looked like scarification, forming an artistic whirlpool design.

Alistair’s heart was pounding now. He activated [Inspect] on the general.

Name: Krazz Bykrozz

Species: Bloodsun Orc I (Partially Evolved)

Level: 17

Class: ???

Title: General of the Blood Orcs

He nervously looked at the screen that popped up in front of him. The addition of the Class section was something he thought could be possible but was holding out hope against. It appeared like the orcs could gain Classes just like humans, though his [Inspect] wasn’t powerful enough to glean that information.

By the point Alistair used his Skill, Alexandra had lured out almost all of the orcs from Krazz’s position. From his position in the trees, the clearing looked empty apart from the general and two other orcs, all of them deep in conversation.

He checked his Mana. With only 15 left, he had just one opportunity to use [Mana Punch]. It was time for him to strike.

Just twenty feet away, Krazz’s back was still turned to Alistair. He lowered his hands to the leafy ground and hunched over like a sprinter. He wanted to use every single drop of his 32 Agility.

With a sudden burst of energy, every muscle in Alistair’s body exploded. Quadriceps, glutes, hamstrings, abdominals, and more fired in unison as his brain furiously ordered his muscles to run. There was only a single goal; to get from point A to point B with as much speed as possible.

A blur of a notification appeared in Alistair’s peripheral vision, but he ignored it. The world around him stretched as he approached the back of the orc with more speed than he’d ever thought was possible. The three orcs had barely begun to react to the noise of his sprint when his glowing fist connected with Krazz’s temple.

The impact of [Mana Punch] with General Krazz’s solid skull made a boom that echoed through the forest and Alistair was flung back several feet from the recoil. He had never struck anything that hard in his life, the extra momentum from the running impact enhancing his attack beyond its normal parameters. His entire right arm was sore from the punch and he felt like he almost tore his shoulder straight out of the socket.

The two leader orcs were taken completely unaware by his sudden appearance and attack on their leader, and Alistair dispatched them with practiced ease. Using their shock against them, he jumped and delivered a superman punch to the first one, knocking him back several feet into a tree, before turning back to the second and rushing him with a series of fierce blows. None of them had killing power, but the orc’s attempts to block them were futile, Alistair’s speed of attack proving too much for him to overcome. After a combo of over a dozen punches in the span of a single second, he finished the fight with a jumping roundhouse kick to the face. Neither of the red war-orcs got up.

All the while he dealt with the general’s subordinates, he was carefully monitoring the level 17 orc that he had put on the ground. He wasn’t expecting to finish the fight with a single punch, even a [Mana Punch], and his hunch proved correct as the gigantic orc had gathered himself to his knees, a decent amount of blood trickling down from his right temple where Alistair had struck.

Not wanting to give his higher-leveled opponent any relief, Alistair dashed madly at the recovering orc. It was a mistake that would cost him dearly.

Alistair had seen enough MMA to respect the power of a flying knee, and the orc’s position appeared to expose his head. As he leaned forward in preparation for his knee strike, he suddenly fell forward, his feet stumbling underneath him. That was all it took for a powerful fist to connect with Alistair’s chest. The orc’s punch was so powerful and weighty that it felt like he lifted Alistair over his head with his fist, sending him flying back into the forest.

Red filled Alistair’s vision as notification warned him that he had dropped to 21 Health, under 20% of his total. He coughed up a chunk of blood while the objects around him grew distant as he felt that his consciousness wanted to fade. He had never taken a punch that powerful before, or any punch for that matter. The only physical violence he had ever experienced before was the partially healed cut on his side.

All that moved him after taking Krazz’s punch was his basest survival instincts. It was as if his higher cognitive functions just shut down. He simply knew there was a strong enemy, and that enemy needed to die.

“Human! Come out and face me, if you’re still alive!”

Krazz’s voice was deep and commanding, and if Alistair was functioning properly, he would have spared a thought as to how he spoke English perfectly. Since he wasn’t, he simply staggered out of the forest to find Krazz facing him, a wide smile profaning his demonic countenance.

“You’re quite the precocious human, to challenge me before the preordained time. You should not be ready yet,” the orc boomed. His massive chest was tattooed with a stylized depiction of a black dragon as he opened his arms wide, almost in supplication. “Let us find out whose Fate is stronger.”

Krazz’s right hand became awash in a black fire that sucked the light in around it, making it the darkness even deeper. Out of the fire grew an ethereal whip at least a meter long, comprised of the flame itself. With no more words needing to be spoken, Krazz turned his arm with surprising alacrity, sending the blackfire weapon at Alistair.

He managed to duck just in time as the whip singed his air. The power of the weapon sent chills through Alistair. With his limited Health, a single strike to his vitals would surely kill him.

The general continued their dance, ferociously sending his magical whip at Alistair without reprieve. He dodged every attack, the black fire causing cracks in the air just like a normal whip, but with no long-ranged Skill or weapon, Alistair was at a loss of options. Krazz seemed to realize it as well, as he started to grin and up the pace of his attacks.

Every second of their exchange increased Alistair’s despair, as it became obvious his evading couldn’t continue forever. He felt fatigued like he had never before, his injuries not helping in the slightest. His movements slowed down and he knew his stamina would not last him much longer. The whip had tagged his arm, searing his flesh and dealing even more damage to his Health. He wasn’t sure exactly how Health correlated to real-life injury, but he was sure he should not let it hit zero under any circumstance, and he was treading dangerously close to that number.

Perhaps the rush of adrenaline started to wear off as nearly dying became his new normal, but Alistair could feel his mental faculties return to him and analyze his duel. He needed to try anything to get closer to the orc.

Alistair breathed in deeply. Anything was worth a shot at this point.

“ALEXANDRA!” he shouted with every fiber of his being, while simultaneously rushing Krazz.

The orc general looked behind him for the briefest second, and that was all the distraction Alistair needed. Her gaudy entrance and extreme Strength made Alexandra register as a threat of the highest priority, and he hoped that Krazz would assume his partner was directly behind him. His calling out to her made no strategic sense, but in the heat of the moment, there was no thinking, only doing.

Krazz was fast enough to react to Alistair’s incoming rush, and he held up his empty arm as if he was holding a shield. Fire quickly started forming around his forearm, possibly in some kind of shielding Skill. It was irrelevant to Alistair, who used his superior Agility to contort his moving body around the growing protective fires. Despite his unnaturally jacked body, it seemed like the golden orc wasn’t a melee fighter, as his black eyes were filled with shock as he was slammed with a Brazilian kick straight to the face.

As the left heel that had just broken Krazz’s nose hit the ground, he swiftly followed up with a spinning back kick. The large orc was given no time to rest as Alistair knew he couldn’t let up his attacks in the slightest or it would be over for him. He rained punch after punch on the general.

With Krazz’s lack of armor, his torso was fair game, and Alistair stopped consciously directing his attacks, instead letting his hands flow freely. Yet, it wasn’t enough.

His face was a bloody mess and his body looked like a mass of bruises connected by skin, but the orc was still alive, and very angry. Alistair moved to try to deliver a finishing blow now that he had softened him up with hundreds of smaller punches, but that empty second was all Krazz needed to envelop his skin in his black fire.

Alistair’s uppercut connected with his chin, but it didn’t feel right. The orc swayed uncertainly from the blow, but he stayed standing. Alistair did not. He fell to his knees in the most agony of his entire life as he felt the orc’s fire burn skin right off of his fist.

“[Black Dragon’s Armor] is quite effective against pugilists, I must say,” the orc taunted. “I never expected you to be able to overwhelm me like that. In another world, you might have become a Prime Initiate. Now--”

He started to speak but was cut off as something stabbed him in the back. Through the burning torture, Alistair could make out a figure in the distance with her hand outstretched.

It was Alexandra, and she looked like shit. One of her arms was dangling out of her shoulder at an unnatural angle, and her torso had a gash in it bigger than the one he received from the half-orc Kalak. Her brown hair was matted with blood, yet despite her injuries, she had a fierce look on her face.

As Krazz half-turned his body, making sure to keep an eye on both humans, Alistair saw that the item that penetrated the orc was Alexandra’s tactical knife, in its normal small form. In her hands was a mace stolen from one of the war-orcs. With her Strength, it probably was a suitable weapon.

Alistair kept smothering his hand in the dirt as he extinguished the black fires. They had burned his flesh to the bone, his muscles and skin burned away to reveal his proximal phalanges.

Krazz gave Alistair’s crumpled form a once over before turning towards Alexandra and summoning a black ball of fire. Alistair cried out in protest as he willed his legs to get up.

Alexandra ran for Krazz, but her speed couldn’t even be compared to Alistair’s. She got to ten feet in front of the general when the first bolt of fire pierced her arm. Krazz’s ball of fire sent out another bolt of flames, this one piercing her leg.

Alistair stood with wobbly legs as he witnessed Alexandra cry out in pain as more bolts of fire rained down. In a desperate ploy, she activated [Empower Weapon] on her mace. It was already a weapon built for a giant orc, so increasing its size would just make it too large even for her Strength. However, her intention was not to use it as a weapon, and Alistair realized she was trying to use it as cover as she crouched behind the head of the mace, which had grown to be more than large enough to protect her.

The orc laughed and Alistair knew her makeshift shield wouldn’t last for long. Krazz was already levitating the ball of fire higher in the air, trying to get a clean line of attack.

Alistair realized this was his moment. Fear gripped his heart as he imagined the mysterious black fire the orc conjured. The thought of it burning off his face and spreading throughout his body as he died the most painful death humanly possible arrested his movement. But he needed to help her.

Perhaps she wouldn’t have done it for him. After all, they had only met just over an hour ago. Some people wouldn’t have risked burning to death for a friend of twenty years. That didn’t matter to Alistair. Before the apocalypse, he had no idea if he would have risked his life to save someone he barely knew. His life from before was less than a day ago, yet it felt just as distant as his childhood. In his new life, he had gained the “Good Samaritan” Badge. And that was the kind of person he wanted to be.

With the high-pitched scream of someone with nothing left to lose, Alistair jumped onto the back of his enemy. He wrapped his forearm under Krazz’s neck and applied a rear-naked choke on the orc.

Pain filled Alistair’s very being and he did not relent. He felt his back crash into the ground and vision blur and he still did not relent. He squeezed harder and harder until he thought his biceps would burst. Krazz’s hand burned with black fire, grabbing Alistair’s arm, yet he still did not stop.

Finally, after what could have been thirty seconds or five hours, the orc’s thrashing weakened. Alistair squeezed even tighter, hope filling his being. His Health had dropped so low a red notification appeared in his vision, notifying him he would soon lose consciousness. He just needed to last a little longer. Just a little more, and it would all be fine.

Alistair was so focused that as he fell into comforting darkness, he didn’t even realize General Krazz was long dead.

Past infinite light-years of spacetime, past countless dimensional barriers and Dao Firmaments, past webs of connected universes, a being of untold power stirs along a leyline of the Heart of All Creation.

11 million years ago he suffered a grievous wound in a righteous crusade against the tyrannical suzerains of earthly creation, and while his immortal body soaks in the distilled essence of a thrice-reincarnated Samsaric Heavenly Lotus from the Lesser Buddhist Heavens, the smallest part of his mind awakens and sees all.

There are no words to describe how the Sage of Eternal Mercy sees the unending Multiverse. All unfairly given negative Karma flows toward him, a feat which shall ensure the everlasting survival of his hallowed name. The Archivist of the Akashic Records has recorded more of the Sage’s personal biography than any being of the current Era.

Infinite benevolence flows through the Sage’s heart as he tastes the rancid flavor of the Karma he has chosen to consume. He will endure this pain for the weak Fates of all sophonts in the Multiverse, for he remembers long ago what it was like to feel helpless against the cruel and violent path to eternity.

He analyzes innumerable Karmic webs at once, his vast mind searching for those who will heed his creed. He does not discriminate and hears all the tortured and broken voices at once. It is his greatest shame that he cannot answer all of the prayers of the innocent.

Full of potential, millions of young beings across the Multiverse answer his call, some subconsciously and some overtly. His power is vast but the Multiverse is vaster and in some places, his touch is infinitesimally small. It matters not, for the smallest Karmic link of the Sage ties them forever to Fate.

In the briefest period of time imaginable, his eyes linger on a young man so close to the edge he was just as well one with Chaos. The lines of Fate were murky with him, but it was all too obvious he will suffer through strife and tribulation. That is how it always is in the endless cycle of life and death, war and peace, rebirth and reincarnation. However, it will not always be that way. His Dao Path inviolably commands him to believe that he will be the harbinger of change, in the deepest core of his being.

It will be some more time before he truly awakens. The forces of the unorthodox fear the Sage and quake at his name. Yet the Sage of Eternal Mercy does not direct his truest enmity for them. His left palm remains inexorably faced upward in defiance of the realm above, for he is Dodoka, the Accursed of Heaven.