59：A Masterclass in Violence
Spurred by the promise of a heavy reward, a terrifying, bloodthirsty green glint erupted in the eyes of the six veterans.
To them, these two humans were already corpses. Two against six? Bare-handed? It was pure suicide.
"Kill them!"
Six pairs of feet slammed into the sand, instantly leaving deep craters in their wake.
The two Black Iron veterans leading the charge split to the left and right. Their massive arms, carrying crushing momentum, swung down toward Soren's head. The sheer force made the wind howl.
[Eagle Eye Perception] activated.
Through Soren’s pupils, everything changed. The gaps in their thick, calloused guards, the flushed skin of the orcs' throats, the rippling striations of every flexing muscle—all of it slowed down, froze, and highlighted their fatal, critical weaknesses.
He didn't step back to brace himself. He didn't even attempt to dodge.
His [Thin Titan Blood] completely boiled over in that very second.
"Die!"
As the giant fist of the veteran on the left crashed down, Soren violently jerked up his left arm, taking the blow head-on with a single-handed block.
Bang!
The collision of flesh on flesh produced a sickening, heavy thud.
There was no sound of a human arm bone shattering as expected. Instead, the veteran's massive fist struck Soren's left forearm as if it had slammed into a solid mountain. The sheer recoil forced the huge fist back half an inch!
In the split second that astonishment flashed through the veteran's green eyes, Soren thrust his right hand forward. His five fingers were squeezed tightly together, forming a rigid spearhand.
This was a killing technique forged through thousands of life-and-death struggles in his previous life.
His hand became a blade, tearing through the air.
Püch!
His fingers plunged straight into the soft cartilage gap just below the orc veteran’s Adam's apple. Two fingers locked like a vise onto the trachea and carotid artery. Then, with a brutal outward twist of his forearm, Soren ripped his hand back!
A large mass of steaming flesh, along with the trachea and soft tissue, was savagely torn completely out of the orc’s throat!
The veteran on the left clutched the geyser of blood erupting from his neck, collapsing to his knees like a pile of wet mud.
Meanwhile, Soren didn't even pause to catch his breath.
Pivoting on his right toe, he slid his body flush against the charging form of the veteran on the right. His hands whipped out, moving like lightning to grab and apply a reverse-joint lock on the wrist and elbow of the 200-plus-pound orc.
Roll!
Using the opponent’s own forward momentum, Soren slammed his back against the veteran's chest. The savage strength of a Titan surged through his back.
"Up!"
BOOM!
The massive orc veteran was hurled over Soren’s shoulder in a devastating suplex, smashing deep into the yellow earth. Sand and dirt exploded into the air.
Before the shock of the impact to the orc's brain could even settle, Soren had already raised his left leg high. He aligned his heel directly over the veteran's cervical vertebrae.
He brought his foot down in a vicious axe stomp.
CRACK!
The sharp sound of snapping bone echoed with horrifying clarity, slicing right through the ambient noise of the arena. The veteran didn't even manage a final, spasming twitch. His spine was completely severed. He died instantly.
Renn, who had just thrown a heavy elbow to knock back one of his own attackers, instinctively turned his head. He caught the tail end of the sequence in his peripheral vision.
Goosebumps erupted across Renn's entire body.
Two seconds!
A head-on clash! Ripping out a throat! A momentum-driven suplex capped with a spine-shattering stomp!
This was absolutely not the fragile human he had assumed—someone who needed to rely on footwork to avoid the enemy's brunt. This was an ancient, ferocious beast wearing human skin! Just what kind of monstrous foundation was hiding inside that scrawny, mud-covered human?!
The Orc Centurion’s pupils shrank to pinpricks.
Something is wrong! That was an overwhelming crush of pure, raw strength!
"Useless trash! Get out of the way!"
The Centurion bellowed, kicking aside one of his own dazed elites who was blocking his path. Gripping a heavy, spike-covered bone warhammer with both hands, he charged with thundering steps. He and the last surviving elite veteran formed a pincer movement, rushing Soren from the left and right.
"Die, flea!" the surviving veteran roared. Eager to claim the kill, he threw himself into a low, wild boar-style combat roll. Spreading his limbs like iron tongs, he aimed to grapple and completely lock down Soren's legs.
Simultaneously, the Centurion leaped high into the air. The heavy bone warhammer descended with a howling screech that seemed to crush the very air, aiming directly at Soren’s skull!
A hammer crushing from above, a grapple locking the legs from below. It was a flawless, inescapable death trap.
Yet, there wasn't a single ripple of panic in Soren’s cold, ruthless eyes.
He violently swept his right leg backward, burying his calf deep into the yellow sand to forcibly root his stance.
The exact instant the low-rolling veteran wrapped his arms around Soren's leg...
Instead of retreating, Soren surged forward!
He bent his upper body sharply backward, narrowly evading the massive bone warhammer that cleaved the air inches above his face with a foul wind.
Using that backward leaning momentum, he drove his right knee squarely into the side of the grappling veteran's face in an explosive, counter-rotational knee strike!
BANG!
The knee utterly obliterated the orc's jawbone. The veteran's entire facial structure caved inward. Jagged shards of broken teeth and shattered bone were driven upward straight into his brain. His eyes bulged out of their sockets as he died instantly, his arms falling limply away from Soren’s leg.
Having missed his lethal airborne strike, the Centurion realized his attack had failed. Because he had committed his entire body weight into the downward swing, his center of gravity was drastically thrown off, causing him to stagger violently forward.
In the locking gaze of Soren’s [Eagle Eye Perception], that momentary flaw was infinitely magnified.
Soren violently kicked up a veil of blood-soaked sand, using the grit to obscure his movement. Like an arrow loosed from a bow, he shot forward, hunting down the stumbling Centurion.
The flesh on the Centurion’s savage face twisted into a snarl. With a furious roar, he tossed aside the heavy bone hammer and spread his massive arms wide. He intended to use his proudly monstrous physique to crush this human in a lethal bear hug.
But Soren didn't dodge.
Instead, he met the brute in a raw, unadulterated frontal clash!
Soren’s hands shot out, gripping the joints of the Centurion’s widespread shoulders—one pushing up, the other pressing down.
The two locked into a pure, head-on test of strength!
Deep craters formed rapidly in the sand beneath their feet from the immense pressure. The Centurion had fully expected to snap Soren’s arm bones like twigs, crushing him like a bug.
However, absolute horror washed over the giant orc.
No matter how hard he pushed—exerting every ounce of strength until his face swelled into a suffocating purplish-red—the pair of seemingly frail human arms in his grasp felt like two deeply rooted pillars holding up the heavens.
They did not budge a single millimeter.
Soren raised his eyes, locking gazes with the Orc Centurion, whose back was now drenched in cold sweat.
With a brutal twist, Soren wrenched both of his arms outward in a reverse torsion lock! Then, he ruthlessly snapped them down!
SNAP!
SQUELCH!
Both of the Centurion’s shoulders emitted a sickening, mournful crunch of shattering joints. His massive arms instantly went limp, hanging uselessly at his sides.
But before the agonizing howl could even escape the Centurion’s throat...
Soren grabbed the orc's leather belt with his left hand, yanking hard to destroy the giant's balance and force his upper body downward. Simultaneously, Soren squeezed the five fingers of his right hand together, stiffening them into a solid steel chisel.
SCHLICK!
He thrust his rigid spearhand directly upward, violently impaling the soft flesh beneath the orc's jaw!
His lethal fingertips tore through the soft skin, severed the root of the tongue, pierced through the hard palate, and plunged straight up into the base of the skull, right beneath the brain!
With a brutal twist and yank, Soren withdrew his hand.
The Centurion’s colossal body violently convulsed twice. Copious amounts of dark green, frothy blood mixed with white brain matter began oozing uncontrollably from his nose, his tear ducts, and the gaping wound under his jaw.
With a look of utter disgust, Soren shook the gore from his bloody fingers.
THUD.
The two-and-a-half-meter mountain of meat collapsed heavily onto the blood-soaked sand, kicking up a crimson dust cloud.
Four mangled, broken orc corpses now lay at Soren's feet.
From the very first punch that shattered the recruit’s throat, to the raw, bare-handed lobotomy of the Centurion—the entire massacre took less than two minutes.
The sunlight remained blinding, but the chaotic uproar from the spectator stands had been sliced clean off.
Thousands of orc guards and nobles, previously fueled by bloodlust and cheap alcohol, completely froze. They were stuck mid-action—heads tilted back in laughter, leaning over the railings, or with drinking horns raised halfway to their mouths.
Utter, incomprehensible shock and dumbfounded terror were painted across thousands of rugged, grayish-green faces.
Within the massive, funnel-shaped colosseum...
You could hear a pin drop.
At the exact same time Soren brutally executed his four targets, just a few paces away, a series of bone-crunching sounds exploded like muffled thunder.
Renn, the Monk everyone had seemingly forgotten about, used action to perfectly demonstrate his [Unarmed Master] talent.
Facing the two remaining orc veterans lunging at him, Renn pushed forward instead of retreating.
He abruptly ducked low, letting a sweeping fist sail harmlessly over his head. His right foot plowed a deep trench through the sand as he rooted himself, channeling his entire body weight into his hips.
Tapping into that kinetic energy, he forcefully twisted his torso.
He unleashed a terrifyingly brutal rising knee strike. Like a battering ram, it slammed directly into the chin of the orc on his left.
CRACK!
The orc's entire lower mandible disintegrated into powder. The concussive shockwave of the blow literally squeezed the creature's eyeballs out of their sockets.
Without skipping a beat, Renn pressed his index and middle fingers together like a steel spike. Capitalizing on the right-side orc's momentary shock, Renn violently thrust his fingers straight into the orc's armpit.
The fingers pierced effortlessly through flesh and muscle, stabbing deep into the beating heart within.
He pulled his hand out.
Brownish-green orc blood sprayed like a high-pressure fountain.
The two giant beasts crashed into the dirt side by side.
Flinging the foul blood from his hand, Renn turned around—only to meet Soren’s pitch-black, indifferent gaze.
Their eyes met for just half a second.
Neither spoke a word.
But within the eyes of the Monk—a man who had spent his entire life licking blood from the edge of a blade—an absolute, undeniable reverence could no longer be hidden.
He had initially thought Soren was just some arrogant kid who didn't know the immensity of heaven and earth.
But the lethal movements Soren had just displayed, slaughtering four elite orc drillmasters in two minutes...
There wasn't a single wasted movement or flashy flourish. Every single strike was an optimized, one-hit-kill military combat technique!
The two men shared a tacit understanding.
With a swift flick of his toe, Soren kicked up a rusted half-broken sword half-buried in the yellow sand. It spun through the air and landed perfectly into his waiting grip.
[Grandmaster Military Swordsmanship]!
"Take him down! Chop off his limbs!"
The lower-ranking Black Iron guards stationed around the stands to maintain order finally snapped out of their daze. Over a dozen fully armored orc guards roared in fury, vaulting over the one-meter-high barricade. Hefting heavy spiked maces, they swarmed into the pit, charging in to butcher them.