Chapter 6 — Trial by Strength

I crashed onto the ground, landing hard after my leap from the second floor. A faint tremor passed through my legs, yet there was no pain, no serious injury—only the lingering echoes of fatigue deeply rooted within. What weighed heaviest was the moral burden — the aftermath of endless battles, the constant tension, the crushing pressure that forced clenched teeth and forbade even a moment's rest.

"Strength does bear its fruit..." the thought flickered through my mind. Without the recent surge in my stats, I would have been lying unconscious already.

I rose swiftly to my feet, my gaze unerringly finding its mark: the orc.

He stood motionless, breathing heavily, the axe dangling from his hand like a child's toy. Human blood still dripped from the blade, leaving scarlet stains upon the earth.

I clenched my fists.

"I didn't think I'd need to use this so soon..." I sighed, summoning two imps as I charged. Tiny figures burst into existence with a soft, demonic crackle.

Berserker's Strength.

Without hesitation, I activated the skill. A crimson flash enveloped the imps; their bodies swelled with power, becoming faster, fiercer. Their eyes blazed with blood-red fire.

"It's time."

I lunged forward. The imps shot after me like bloodthirsty shadows.

The orc roared upon seeing the new threat and charged with furious might. His axe sang through the air, the earth shuddering beneath its force. Yet the berserk-empowered imps were swifter. They dodged the blow and retaliated, slashing his sides, belly, and arms with sharp, vicious claws.

I too joined the fray, gripping a metal pipe in both hands. I struck at the orc's legs, forcing him to stumble, to falter.

The battle became a bloody dance.

Each of my blows was laced with desperate resolve; each of the imps' leaps was a strike meant for death. The orc bellowed, swinging his axe, splintering the stone tiles underfoot. One imp failed to dodge—their body exploded into black ichor, staining the earth.

I gritted my teeth. My heart hammered against my ribs. But I could see—the orc was slowing.

His breaths turned ragged, his movements sluggish. He barely managed to fend off my remaining imp. Blood trickled down his massive frame.

"Now," I thought, rolling to the side to flank him.

One chance. One heartbeat.

I dashed forward, closing the distance. The imp struck furiously at the orc's face and shoulders, drawing his attention. The axe rose high—just as I swung the pipe low, striking behind his knee.

Crack.

The orc howled in pain, staggering. An opening revealed itself—and I raised the pipe again, aiming for his flank.

But in that very moment, I felt it—the berserker's energy fading. My last imp froze mid-attack, as if the strings controlling it were severed, and collapsed lifeless to the ground.

The orc, sensing the shift, turned his bloodshot gaze toward me.

"Shit!"

I barely raised the pipe in time. The axe came crashing down.

The impact thundered.

The world exploded into pain.

The pipe shattered like fragile glass. Even though I had caught part of the blow, the orc's strength was overwhelming. I was thrown backward like a ragdoll.

I flew several meters before crashing onto my back with a heavy thud.

A sharp pain lanced through my chest. I groaned, struggling to breathe—the air stubbornly refusing to fill my lungs. A dark patch of blood spread across my shirt near the heart.

I barely propped myself up on my elbows. My arms trembled. My legs refused to obey.

"Damn it..." I rasped, coughing violently, spitting blood onto the ground.

The orc, each step heavy, began to approach. His massive form eclipsed the sky above. The axe still rested in his hand, ready to deliver the final blow.

I stared up at him, nearly powerless to rise.

"Is this... the end?"

Thoughts swirled chaotically through my mind. I remembered the imps—their desperate fight. I remembered the people the orc had torn apart without a shred of mercy. I remembered how I fought to survive... and how I believed I could endure.

I clenched my fists. Even if strength had abandoned me. Even if each breath was a struggle and my throat burned with blood.

I would not allow myself to die like this.

The orc raised his axe high above his head. The shadow of death fell upon me.

I braced myself.