Chapter 2: Fighting the Sun?
The Battlefield Still Stank of Blood.
Ghaz'Rok barely had time to catch his breath. His own wounds still throbbed—his muscles burned, his skin was slick with blood and sweat—but the battlefield wasn't done with him yet.
A deep, guttural roar cut through the chaos.
"GHAZ'ROK! BROTHER!"
He turned and saw a massive ork staggering toward him, his body a walking ruin.
The ork was easily a head taller than Ghaz'Rok, his frame bulging with muscle, his green skin covered in countless battle scars. But his armor was shattered, his breath was ragged, and two weapons were still lodged in his body.
A spear had pierced his shoulder, its shaft still quivering with every movement.
A sword was buried deep in his abdomen, the steel slick with fresh blood.
And yet, the ork still stood.
His face was twisted into a painful, bloody grin.
"Brother!" he gasped. "Carry me to the mountain! I must fight the sun!"
Ghaz'Rok blinked. "What?"
The ork wobbled but jabbed a finger toward the distant mountains.
"I will climb to the peak! And I will stand atop it! And I will challenge the sun to battle!"
Ghaz'Rok stared at him, at the spear through his shoulder, the sword in his stomach, the blood leaking from his mouth.
Then he let out a long, tired sigh.
"…You're a damn idiot."
The system dinged.
[New Quest: Primitive Surgery]
Objective: Perform battlefield surgery using available materials.
Reward: Basic Surgical Kit (Primitive but Functional!)
Failure: Patient dies. Also, enjoy the guilt.
Another notification followed.
[New Long-Term Quest: The Iron Fist]
Objective: If amputation is required, construct a functional prosthetic arm.
Reward: ???
Ghaz'Rok exhaled, rubbing his temples.
"Alright, listen up, big guy. You're not fighting the damn sun."
The ork scowled. "Why not?"
"Because it's the sun. You'll die before you even get up that mountain."
The ork spat blood into the dirt. "Then I die a warrior's death."
Ghaz'Rok grabbed his tusks and yanked his head down so they were eye to eye.
"You'll die like a moron."
The ork growled, but his legs trembled beneath him. He was seconds away from collapsing.
Ghaz'Rok pushed him down. "Lie still. I'm going to fix you."
The system beeped.
[Surgery Mode: Activated]
---
Step One: Stop the Bleeding
The sword was bad news. If he ripped it out carelessly, the ork would bleed out in seconds.
The spear wasn't much better.
And he had no clean tools. No antiseptics. No proper bandages.
Just his hands, a rusty dagger, and the battlefield.
Ghaz'Rok scanned his surroundings. He needed thread to stitch the wounds—something tough but flexible.
Then he spotted it:
A dead warhorse nearby, its mane still intact.
Perfect.
He rushed over and yanked several long strands of coarse horsehair free. Not ideal, but it would have to do.
Next, a needle.
He rummaged through a corpse's shattered ribcage and snapped off a thin bone shard.
Sharp enough to pierce flesh.
He clenched it between his teeth, keeping it ready.
---
Step Two: Cauterizing the Shoulder Wound
He turned back to his patient.
"Alright, this is going to hurt like hell."
The ork smirked weakly. "Pain is—"
Ghaz'Rok grabbed a fallen sword, shoved it into a still-burning patch of battlefield fire, and watched the steel turn red-hot.
The ork's grin vanished. "Wait—"
Ghaz'Rok slammed the burning steel against his open shoulder wound.
The ork roared in agony, his entire body seizing.
The stench of burning flesh filled the air.
The system beeped.
[Bleeding Stopped!]
The ork twitched. His voice was hoarse. "You. Bastard."
Ghaz'Rok ignored him and moved to the stomach wound.
---
Step Three: Stitching the Abdomen Wound
He gripped the hilt of the sword still lodged in the ork's gut.
"On three," he muttered.
The ork gritted his teeth.
"One."
And Ghaz'Rok yanked the sword out before finishing the count.
The ork screamed.
Blood gushed.
Ghaz'Rok immediately pressed a wadded cloth against the wound, shoving his entire weight down.
The system pinged.
[Critical Bleeding: 10 seconds to stabilize.]
He moved fast.
He threaded the horsehair through the bone needle.
He pierced the flesh, looping tight, careful stitches.
Every puncture bled, but he worked through it, hands steady, mind focused.
Finally, he tied the last knot.
The system beeped.
[Surgery Success! Patient Stabilized.]
Ghaz'Rok collapsed onto the dirt, exhausted.
The ork chuckled weakly.
"…You are no normal warrior."
Ghaz'Rok wiped sweat from his brow. "No. I'm a doctor."
The system dinged.
[Quest Complete! Reward: Basic Surgical Kit (Primitive but Functional!)]
A small leather bag appeared beside him, filled with crude scalpels, needles, and thread.
Finally. A real start.
Then the ork held up his ruined arm.
"This arm…" He clenched his teeth. "It is useless."
Ghaz'Rok studied it. The joint was shattered. The muscles were too damaged. Even if it healed, it would never work again.
The system beeped.
[New Long-Term Quest Updated!]
Objective: Amputate the ruined limb. Create a prosthetic replacement.
Reward: ???
The ork's expression darkened. "A warrior without an arm… is not a warrior."
Ghaz'Rok's jaw tightened.
"…Then I'll make you something stronger."
The ork stared at him.
Then, slowly, he grinned painfully.
"…Do it."
---
Step Four: Amputation
He tightened a tourniquet above the shoulder.
He cleaned his sharp battle axe.
"Brace yourself."
The ork tensed.
Ghaz'Rok swung the axe.
The first blow bit deep.
The second cracked bone.
The third severed the arm completely.
Blood gushed, but the tourniquet held.
Ghaz'Rok pressed the red-hot blade to the stump.
The sizzle of burning flesh filled the air.
The ork shook violently… but laughed.
"…That was brutal, brother."
Ghaz'Rok wiped sweat from his brow.
The ork grinned.
"Now, you make me something better."
Ghaz'Rok grinned back.
"Yeah. I will."