7. The path beyond the hunt

Dungeon – Tenth Floor

Orcbolg stood amidst a field of goblin corpses. The dim Dungeon light reflected off the crimson stains on his armor, his blade still dripping. His breathing was steady, but his mind was elsewhere.

The battle had been effortless. Too effortless.

His hands were practiced. His movements instinctual. Goblins, whether in this world or his old one, were nothing more than prey to him. But now…

Was this even necessary?

He had been in Orario for a while now. He had observed. There were no villages burning. No fields raided. No innocent people taken in the night.

The goblins here were weak, confined to the Dungeon.

They did not spread. They did not destroy lives.

They were not the same.

Slowly, he sheathed his sword.

The hunt that had defined his entire being… Was it still needed?

Abandoned Church – Late Night

Orcbolg sat alone, sharpening his dagger. The rhythmic scrape of the whetstone was the only sound in the quiet room.

His mind was restless.

What now?

Since the day he picked up a blade, he had lived for one purpose. There had been nothing beyond the hunt, beyond the next extermination.

He had no grand ambition. No desire for wealth or power. He hunted because that was all he knew.

But now, for the first time in his life—

There were no more goblins to hunt.

His grip tightened on the blade.

Then what was left of him?

A memory surfaced.

A Memory – A Campfire Under the Stars

The elf sat across from him, her long ears twitching as she poked the fire with a stick. Her bow rested beside her, quiver half-empty.

She had been frustrated with him that day—his refusal to think beyond the hunt, beyond his narrow world.

With a sigh, she had spoken:

"One day, when your war is over, what will you do? What will be left of you when there are no more goblins to kill?"

He hadn't answered then.

She had stared at him, something like sorrow in her eyes. Then, she had smiled, though it was tinged with frustration.

"You know… If you ever figure it out, I'll take you on a real adventure. One where the world is bigger than just goblins."

Present – Abandoned Church

Orcbolg stared at the blade in his hands.

A real adventure.

The words lingered, echoing in the silence.

For so long, he had dismissed them. He had believed that there was nothing for him outside the hunt.

But now?

Now, he had a choice.

He was in Orario—the heart of adventurers, a place where people sought glory, wealth, and power.

He had never cared for such things.

But perhaps… perhaps he could search for something beyond the hunt.

Slowly, he set his dagger aside.

For the first time, the thought didn't seem so impossible.

Maybe it was time to see what real adventure meant.