The Relic of Fallen God

Light flooded the cavern, illuminating every corner with an intensity that forced both Josh and the Orc to shield their eyes. The artifact pulsed, vibrant gold waves spreading out like ripples on a lake, enveloping Josh in an unbreakable dome of ethereal energy.

The Orc's axe struck the shield with a deafening clang, but instead of shattering, the energy absorbed the blow effortlessly. The shockwave sent the Orc stumbling back, confusion etched on its face. It stared at the barrier, its red eyes wide with recognition, and murmured in disbelief, "Impossible… The Relicolus Shield… but it cannot be. The god of shields is long dead!"

Josh, huddled within the shimmering barrier, was equally baffled. His chest heaved with ragged breaths, his mind racing. What was happening? The relic he had picked up weeks ago from a trash heap in Tondo, thinking it was just junk, now radiated a godly power he couldn't comprehend.

The Orc paced outside the shield, its axe lowered. It no longer seemed like a predator about to strike; its demeanor had changed to that of someone in awe. "Boy," it rumbled, "how did you come to possess *that*?"

Josh shook his head, trembling. "I-I don't know! I found it… in some garbage back home. I didn't even know what it was." His voice cracked as he clutched the relic tightly, its warmth grounding him despite the chaos around him.

The Orc studied him for a long moment, then let out a booming laugh. "Of all creatures to carry the relic of the Relicolus God, it falls into the hands of a weakling scavenger!" The laughter subsided, replaced by a somber tone. "You truly do not know its power, do you?"

"No…" Josh admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "What is it?"

The Orc knelt, pointing at the glowing artifact. "That relic… It was forged by the Relicolus God of Shields, a divine protector whose power no mortal could rival. It is said that even an S-Rank Hunter or a Demon Lord could not break the defenses it grants. Only its creator—Relicolus himself—could destroy it. But the god was slain by his own kin, his relics scattered and lost to time."

Josh's mind reeled. He stared at the relic in his hands, unable to reconcile its grandiose history with the humble circumstances of his life. He couldn't even hold his own against an Orc, and now he was somehow tied to the legacy of a god?

The Orc's gaze softened, its earlier hostility replaced by curiosity. "Fate is strange," it mused. "Perhaps the relic chose you. Though… it is wasted on one so feeble."

Josh flinched at the jab but didn't argue. He was feeble, and he knew it.

The Orc's expression shifted once again, this time to one of resolution. It rose to its full height and slammed its axe into the ground, kneeling before Josh. The ground shook with the force of its gesture. "I, KingOrc of the Sixth Horde, bow to you, bearer of the Relicolus Shield."

Josh's jaw dropped. "Wh-what are you doing? You were trying to kill me five minutes ago!"

KingOrc chuckled, a rumbling sound. "You may be weak now, but that relic has marked you as something greater. I do not bow to you, boy—I bow to the power you carry. And I offer you my core, a piece of my strength, to awaken your potential."

Before Josh could protest, KingOrc raised a hand to its chest. A brilliant green orb materialized, pulsing with raw magical energy. "This is my core," KingOrc explained. "Consuming it will grant you a skill that matches your spirit—Magicules, the ability to copy and manifest magic without the need for mana. It is a rare and powerful gift."

Josh hesitated. "But… why? Why would you help me?"

KingOrc's eyes gleamed with a mix of pride and something akin to respect. "You are a fool, boy. A weak fool who entered this dungeon for the sake of another. That kind of resolve is rare. And… it would be a waste to see the relic bearer die so pitifully. Take my core, and let me teach you how to wield power."

Josh reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing the glowing orb. As he absorbed the core, a surge of energy coursed through him, filling his veins with a sensation he couldn't describe. It was as though a new sense had awakened within him—a connection to the magic around him.

"Now," KingOrc said, rising, "your training begins. You may have the relic and my core, but power without control is meaningless."

Josh swallowed hard, nodding. "What do I have to do?"

KingOrc grinned, the sharp tusks glinting in the light. "First, I will teach you my secret technique: Attribute Infusion. It is a method I perfected, allowing one to imbue their own body with enhanced strength, speed, or endurance. If you survive my training, you might even be able to copy it with your new skill, Magicules."

The next hours were grueling. The dungeon became a crucible for Josh's growth as KingOrc pushed him to his limits. He ran laps through the cavern, dodged falling rocks conjured by KingOrc's magic, and sparred relentlessly, each failure met with harsh but encouraging words.

"You call that a strike?" KingOrc barked as Josh swung a conjured sword, barely scratching the surface of a summoned training dummy. "Put your back into it, boy!"

Josh collapsed to the ground, panting. "I… I can't… I'm not strong enough."

KingOrc loomed over him, arms crossed. "Strength isn't given; it's forged. You want to save your sister, don't you? Then stop whining and stand up!"

Something inside Josh ignited—a small ember of determination that refused to be snuffed out. He rose shakily to his feet, his grip tightening on his weapon. With each attempt, he improved, however marginally. The Magicules skill allowed him to mimic KingOrc's techniques, albeit imperfectly, but his progress was undeniable.

As the days blurred together, Josh began to see changes in himself. His swings grew faster, his movements more precise. And though he still had a long way to go, the boy who had once been below E Rank was slowly beginning to climb.