Chapter 5 Berserk Orc

A chilling wind swept across the open training ground, carrying with it a thin veil of dust and faint whispers of fear. The Red Orc stood amidst the chaos, a monstrous figure that seemed to eclipse even the moonlight. His blood-red eyes glowed fiercely, devoid of any trace of humanity, like two burning coals ready to incinerate anything in their path. His hulking frame expanded with every breath, muscles rippling unnaturally as his wounds healed before their very eyes. The severed ear reformed in an agonizingly grotesque fashion, stretching sinew and flesh until it was whole again. His foot, which had been lopped off moments ago, grew back with an audible crunch of bone and sinew, growing larger and thicker than before.

The ground beneath him quaked as the Orc’s fury erupted like a dormant volcano suddenly awakened. Deep cracks spider-webbed across the earth, and the faint smell of sulfur and blood filled the air. Veins, swollen and pulsating with rage, threaded across his entire body, making him look as though his skin might burst from the pressure. Around him, the faint hum of dark red Ki energy morphed into a visible storm, a ferocious whirlwind that seemed to have a mind of its own. The students felt its heat on their skin, searing and oppressive, as if nature itself recoiled from the being before them.

Sarah clutched her chest, her breathing shallow and erratic. Beads of sweat trickled down her temple despite the cold, pooling beneath her chin. “Why aren’t the teachers here yet? This isn’t fair,” she thought bitterly. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the hilt of her sword, but her body refused to move. Her legs felt like lead, rooted firmly in the cracked dirt. “I’m not ready to die. I have to get stronger—I have dreams, ambitions. I can’t fall to this...thing!”

Jimmy, on the other hand, stood frozen, his eyes darting between Zakir and the berserk Orc. His heart thundered in his chest, so loud it drowned out the panicked cries of his fellow students. He could feel bile rising in his throat as a voice in his mind screamed, “Run! Leave them behind! No one will blame you if you escape—you’re not a hero!” His hands twitched as he took a tentative step backward, ready to make a break for it. “Zakir will hold him back. He’s strong enough, isn’t he? If I stay, I’ll just die a pointless death.”

The raw, unfiltered fear wasn’t limited to just Jimmy and Natasha and Sarah. Joanna’s face was pale, her lips trembling as she whispered faint prayers under her breath, Mara was also having a hard time, She was remembering the stories where she heard how ferocious and powerful Beast becomes after they enter Berserk mode. Even Zakir, who typically wore a calm and determined expression, showed signs of unease. He gritted his teeth, the weight of the moment pressing heavily on his shoulders. His chest heaved as he stared at the notification from his system, the glowing words hanging ominously in the air.

Ding! [Danger, danger! Red Orc power level: 400. Proceed with caution!]

The notification was redundant at this point—Zakir could feel the monstrous aura radiating from the Orc. It was suffocating, an invisible force that seemed to crawl over his skin like a swarm of ants. His grip on his sword tightened, the intricate runes etched along the blade shimmering faintly as he channeled what little Ki energy he had left. The weapon hummed softly in response, eager and willing to strike.

“This doesn’t look good,” Zakir muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible over the howling wind. He turned to Natasha, whose face was etched with despair. “Natasha, you seem to know what’s going on. Tell me—what is this? How do I stop it?”

Her head snapped toward him as if she had been yanked from a trance. Her voice wavered at first, but she steadied herself, drawing from a well of knowledge buried beneath her terror. “It’s... it’s called Berserk mode,” she explained. “When beasts or monsters are fatally wounded, they can enter this state. It restores their injuries, grants them immense power and speed, but they lose all sense of reason. They become killing machines.”

Zakir’s eyes narrowed. “And weaknesses? Does it make them invincible?”

Natasha hesitated, her lips forming a thin line. “No. Their durability stays the same. If anything, they’re less strategic—more reckless. But Zakir, listen—Berserk mode only lasts seven minutes. If it goes beyond that, their bodies... shut down. They die. But they’ll never willingly stop fighting before they kill every human in their sight.”

A flicker of hope ignited in Zakir’s chest. Seven minutes. That was a finite amount of time. “Good,” he said, determination lining his voice. “That means it’s not impossible. We can do this.”

He turned to the students, his voice rising above the chaos. “Everyone, listen! We need to distract him. Keep him occupied so I can land a decisive blow. Natasha, organize them. I’ll handle the rest.”

The group hesitated, their fear palpable, but Natasha’s commanding voice spurred them into action. “Form a Unity Shield! Combine your powers—we just need to buy Zakir enough time.”

The students scrambled into position, their trembling hands clasping together as they channeled their Ki into a singular, protective barrier. The translucent shield shimmered into existence, a fragile dome that buzzed with the combined energy of its creators. The Red Orc roared, a guttural sound that echoed across the field, before charging toward them with unrelenting fury.

Zakir disappeared into the shadows, his presence masked by the swirling chaos. His mind was laser-focused, every muscle in his body tensed as he poured the remnants of his Ki into his blade. The runes glowed brighter, pulsating in rhythm with his heartbeat. He spotted the Orc’s weak point—a vulnerable spot on its neck where the skin was thinner, almost translucent. “This is it,” he thought, his breath hitching. “One strike. That’s all I’ll get.”

The Unity Shield began to crack under the Orc’s relentless assault. The students grunted, their legs buckling as they poured every ounce of energy into maintaining the barrier. Jimmy, sweat dripping down his face, clenched his fists. “Come on, Zakir. Don’t let us die here.”

And then, in the blink of an eye, it was over.

Thud!

The Red Orc’s massive body collapsed to the ground, its head severed cleanly from its shoulders. Blood pooled around its corpse, staining the broken earth. The students stared in stunned silence as Zakir emerged from the shadows, his sword still glowing faintly. His chest heaved, his eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and relief. He had done it.

In that moment, amidst the quiet stillness that followed, the students shared a look—a fleeting sense of camaraderie. For the first time, they realized they weren’t just survivors. They were a team.

That’s when Zakir heard a Noice in his head, a noice only he can hear, The System Notification, and this time system notification had something very shocking for him.

Ding!

[Congratulation! You have Successfully killed a Red Demon Orc]

[The Ruler Dragon of this region has used the energy of the Orc and Grants you a reward with his Special powers]

[System made the reward Specific hence you will only receive a reward that is helpful to you]

[you have received 10 Unallocated Stat Points as a reward]

Zakir's breath came in shallow gasps as he surveyed the carnage around him. The once serene training ground was now a battlefield, strewn with cracks and scorched patches of earth. The metallic tang of blood lingered in the air, mixing with the acrid smell of burnt Ki energy. The faint shimmer of moonlight barely penetrated the gloom, casting eerie shadows over the twisted remains of their battle. He wiped a hand across his forehead, smearing dirt and sweat across his brow. His body ached, and his Ki reserves were dangerously low—almost non-existent.

“What a mess,” he thought, clutching his sword. He glanced at the faintly glowing runes along its edge and muttered, “At least this survived.”

Just as a flicker of relief began to settle over him, the familiar and dreaded sound of a system notification pierced his thoughts.

Ding! [Two Orcs Detected, Each have a power level of 360]

Zakir froze, the words hammering into his brain like a death sentence. His face contorted in a mix of disbelief and exhaustion. “Two more? You’ve got to be kidding me!” His voice erupted in a loud, almost maniacal tone, drawing the attention of the remaining students. “What kind of crappy luck is this? After all we’ve been through, now you’re telling me there are two more Orcs almost as strong as the last one?” He laughed bitterly, the sound hollow and edged with hysteria.

Deep down, he knew the truth. He was running on fumes; his Ki energy had been drained to the point where even standing upright felt like a Herculean effort. The dizziness from overexertion threatened to pull him under, but he gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on the sword. “If I have to go down, I’ll take at least one of them with me,” he resolved, his eyes burning with stubborn determination.

As the others processed his words, their gazes turned toward the path from which the previous Red Orc had emerged. From the shadows, two hulking figures began to materialize. The faint glow of their red Ki energy illuminated their grotesque forms, casting monstrous silhouettes against the shattered landscape. Their bloodshot eyes fixed on the group with a predatory gleam, and the ground trembled beneath their heavy, deliberate steps.

Natasha’s breath hitched as her eyes locked onto the advancing Orcs. Her hands instinctively clenched around her weapon, though she knew it was futile. Beside her, Sarah’s knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the dirt, trembling. “No... this can’t be happening,” Sarah whispered, her voice barely audible. Tears welled in her eyes as she clutched at the ground, desperate for something—anything—to steady her.

The rest of the students weren’t faring any better. Their faces were pale, their eyes wide with terror as the realization of their predicament settled in. Every instinct screamed at them to run, but their legs refused to obey. Fear rooted them in place, turning them into helpless spectators as their doom marched closer with every step.

Zakir squared his shoulders, forcing himself to remain upright despite the crushing weight of the situation. He glanced back at Natasha and Sarah, who were shakily rising to their feet, weapons drawn. Their expressions were grim, but there was a glimmer of determination in their eyes. It was clear they intended to stand with him, no matter how hopeless the odds. Zakir’s chest tightened at the sight. “Brave fools,” he thought with a faint smirk.

The Orcs were closing in fast. Zakir tightened his grip on his sword, channeling the last dregs of his Ki energy into the blade. The runes flickered weakly, barely responding to his will. “Just one,” he told himself. “If I can take down even one of them, maybe the others will have a chance to escape.”

His heart pounded in his chest, but his mind was unnervingly calm. He had faced death before, and the horrors of his past had left him numb to the fear that paralyzed the others. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been in a situation like this,” he reminded himself. “And it probably won’t be the last.”

The Orcs were almost upon him now. He could feel the heat radiating off their Ki energy, like standing too close to a roaring fire. His muscles coiled, ready to spring into action. The world seemed to slow, every sound muffled except for the thunderous beat of his own heart.

And then, it happened.

In the blink of an eye, the two Orcs stumbled mid-charge, their massive bodies crumpling to the ground with a sickening thud. Blood sprayed into the air as their severed heads rolled a few meters away, coming to rest like discarded stones. For a moment, there was only silence—a stunned, disbelieving silence that hung heavy over the battlefield.

Standing between Zakir and the lifeless bodies of the Orcs was a figure unlike any he had seen before. The woman’s tall, commanding presence exuded a quiet power that demanded attention. Her crimson eyes glowed faintly in the darkness, a striking contrast to her jet-black hair that cascaded down her back. She wore a uniform that bore a striking resemblance to their professors’, though the elegance with which she carried herself made her seem almost otherworldly. The blade in her hand dripped with blood, but her expression remained calm, almost serene, as if the act of decapitating two high-level Orcs was a trivial matter.

“Its Professor Jessica” the Students said collectively.

Professor Jessica stepped forward, her presence commanding yet comforting, like a lighthouse cutting through a storm. The faint glow of the moonlight caught the edges of her uniform, giving her an almost ethereal aura. Her crimson eyes softened as they swept over the group of battered students, lingering briefly on Zakir, who lay slumped against the cracked earth, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths.

“You’ve done well up until now,” she said, her voice steady and warm, carrying a tone that seemed to wrap around them like a protective blanket. A small, genuine smile graced her lips, a rare sight that momentarily eased the tension in the air. Her gaze held a mixture of pride and reassurance, as if silently acknowledging the courage it had taken for them to survive this ordeal.

The students, still trembling from the aftermath, felt a flicker of relief wash over them. Natasha let out a shaky breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her shoulders sagging as the weight of fear began to lift. Sarah wiped at her tear-streaked face, her lips quivering as she tried to muster a smile in return. Even Jimmy, who had been on the verge of fleeing moments ago, felt a pang of guilt and gratitude as he looked at the professor.

Jessica’s eyes returned to Zakir, who struggled to lift his head. His vision blurred, but he could make out her figure standing tall against the backdrop of destruction. Her smile, though faint, seemed to pierce through the haze of his exhaustion. For a moment, he felt a strange sense of peace, as if her words alone had the power to mend the fractures in his spirit.

“Rest well, students,” she continued, her voice carrying a quiet authority that left no room for argument. “You’ve earned it.”

Zakir’s lips parted, as if to respond, but the words never came. His body, pushed far beyond its limits, finally gave in. His head lolled to the side as darkness claimed him, but not before he caught one last glimpse of Professor Jessica’s reassuring smile—a beacon of hope in the chaos.