As Alex kicked off into the air, a spear tore toward him, spinning with lethal force.
His hand moved without hesitation. A dagger slipped from his coat, mana flooding into its steel until faint veins of light traced along its edge. He flicked his wrist.
The dagger collided midair.
The spear shattered into splinters that rained down like broken teeth.
Alex descended through the debris and, before his boots even touched the earth, his scythe swept in a clean arc. A troll's head separated from its neck, its massive body collapsing in a quake of dust and blood.
Trolls were four times the size of men. Thick-boned. Dense muscle. Built to endure.
Which meant their legs were their weakness.
Alex pivoted low.
Two dark flashes.
Both trolls howled as their legs were severed at the knee. They crashed down violently, shaking the ground. Alex sprinted forward, boots striking falling flesh, climbing their bodies with ruthless efficiency. One neck fell. Then the next—
An axe roared toward him.
Alex twisted and swung his scythe with full force. Metal shrieked against iron. The impact jarred his entire frame, pain shooting down his arm. Even with mana reinforcement, the recoil nearly tore the weapon from his grasp.
No pause.
A hail of spears descended.
Alex spun.
His scythe became a whirling barrier, steel ringing in rapid succession as he deflected shaft after shaft. One grazed his coat. Another shattered against the blade. Splinters tore across the battlefield.
A hut behind him collapsed after being struck by a stray spear, its roof caving inward in a burst of ash and sparks. Fire began creeping along dried timber.
The village was no longer intact.
It was unraveling.
Alex lunged forward again, severing another troll's leg before vaulting up its collapsing form. He threw a dagger skyward—
But this time he didn't stop at a single rebound.
He stepped on the falling blade, then kicked again, launching himself even higher.
Midair, he dismissed his scythe into his inventory and drew three daggers in each hand.
Shadow energy flooded into them.
The air darkened.
The metal began to crack.
Thin fractures spiderwebbed across the blades, unable to contain the pressure building within. The energy pulsed violently, distorting the air around them.
Alex didn't hesitate.
He hurled all six.
They struck a charging troll in the skull—
And detonated.
The explosion was not clean. It was raw, unstable. Shadow burst outward in a violent sphere, ripping apart bone and flesh. The troll's head vanished in a spray of blackened gore, the shockwave blasting two nearby huts off their foundations. Wooden beams shattered. A roof spun into the night sky before crashing down in flames.
Alex landed in a crouch amidst falling embers.
The battle did not slow.
But he did.
His breathing had grown heavier. His vision flickered faintly at the edges.
I'm reaching my limit.
Another wave surged toward him.
If this continued—
He exhaled sharply.
Should I use Void Step now? Escape while I still can—
A roar tore across the battlefield.
Not wild.
Not frenzied.
Controlled.
Mana rippled within it like a current beneath deep water.
Every troll froze.
Even Alex stilled.
The lesser trolls began stepping aside, forming a path through blood and ruin.
Something walked forward.
This troll was smaller than the others—but not weaker. Dense muscle coiled beneath its skin like braided steel. Black tattoos spiraled across its arms and chest, faintly glowing under the firelight. Two warped axes rested in its hands, their blades jagged and dark.
Its eyes were not dull.
They were aware.
Predatory.
Trolls were not known for intelligence. Most were driven by instinct alone—sleep, hunt, feed. But on rare occasions, when one survived long enough and devoured enough mana-rich prey, something changed.
They awakened.
A Lord.
The troll's voice was rough, imperfect—but undeniably speech.
"So… it was you… who killed my son."
The battlefield felt smaller.
Alex's Multidimensional Language skill translated the guttural tone effortlessly.
So this was the wail from before.
Not a random alarm.
Grief.
Alex's fingers tightened slightly.
He considered charging. Forcing an opening. Using Void Step mid-clash to escape.
He moved first—
And the Lord vanished.
No.
It crossed the distance too fast to track.
An axe descended.
Alex barely raised his scythe in time.
The impact detonated against him.
The ground beneath his feet shattered as he was hurled backward, crashing through a half-collapsed structure at the edge of the village. Timber splintered. Stone cracked. Dust swallowed him.
Silence.
Then coughing.
Alex pushed himself up using his scythe as support. Blood slid from the corner of his mouth.
That strength…
If I hadn't deflected even a fraction…
I would be dead.
He took a step forward—
Crunch.
He froze.
Beneath his boot lay a human hand bone.
Not old.
Not weathered.
He slowly lifted his gaze.
The interior of the structure was not a storage hut.
It was a dumping ground.
Broken swords.
Torn armor bearing the Adventurer's Guild crest.
Shattered shields.
Bones scattered carelessly among debris.
In the corner, a child-sized skull rested beside a snapped spear.
For a moment, the battlefield noise outside faded.
He remembered something else from his past life.
Mud.
Cold rain.
Himself—kneeling.
Helpless.
Watching someone stronger decide whether he was worth sparing.
The same weight in his chest.
The same powerlessness.
His breathing slowed.
The thought of retreat, which had been so clear moments ago, dissolved quietly.
Not rage.
Not blind fury.
Something colder.
He had never claimed to be a hero.
He could ignore strangers.
He could walk past suffering.
But this—
This was slaughter.
His grip tightened around the scythe.
"One more cut.
One step higher"
He said
He turned toward the battlefield again.
This time, there was no thought of escape.
The Lord Troll waited amidst burning ruins, watching him with calculating eyes.
Alex stepped forward.
The village would fall tonight.