Berserkers pushed Aito to his very limits and beyond. With each wave, he was forced back further down the bridge, when finally, by the 45th wave, he reached his side.

‘T, t, this… I can’t take this anymore. I, I, it’s too damn cold!’ He thought, taking out two pieces of flint from his dimensional bag.

The temperature drop decreased faster after the 40th wave, reaching -58°C. Even with his current Body stat at level 3, that kind of temperature without the right equipment to warm you up was bound to kill you at some point.

Aito’s lips arced up slightly at the sight of those two flints. It brought him back to his time on the island that seemed somehow distant despite only being a bit less than three months ago.

He turned around, taking advantage of this break in between waves to finally use the fortifications Segolene had built for him.

Right at the edge of the bridge linking both mountains, on his side, was a wooden wall almost barring entrance to his plateau. Shielded from most of the cold wind by a natural barrier provided by the mountain, it felt slightly warmer on this side.

Some sort of black matter coated the wood, a crucial addition Aito had asked for. Segolene had seen no problem with that since, to her, it was part of the fortification as a whole. She hadn’t known what he wanted to do with it.

Aito brought his two flints close to each other. Thankfully, his dimensional bag kept it safe from the cold, so it wasn’t frozen like the oil that coated the wooden wall.

Clack!

Clack!

Clack!

Upon contact, his flints spewed out tiny sparks that, at first, did nothing more than vanish in the snow.

‘C, c, come on!’ He thought, digging a small hole in the frozen oil to reach deeper.

Clack!

Clack!

Clack!

Suddenly, the frozen oil caught on fire. The flames progressively spread to the edges of the structure, lighting up the plateau of an orange light, warming up Aito’s body.

“Ha…,” he pushed out a heavy sigh of comfort, ruined by the distant roars of berserkers coming for his frozen ass. “Give me a break!”

As soon as he said that, Aito thought about a certain someone the cold had made him forget until now. “Right, there is that guy, too.”

With an amused smirk, he stretched his hand and used something he would have done sooner.

—System Right: Orc Subordinate—

An ethereal portal opened, fragmenting reality. A tall orc in full plated orcish armor stepped out of it into the barren frozen land.

“My Khan,” Krugan said, hitting his chest to show respect.

Aito almost couldn’t hold back his grin when he saw the orc slightly trembling, forcing himself to remain unfeeling towards the cold, more by pride than anything else.

Orcs from the 6th floor were used to high temperatures, so Aito could only imagine how much of a shock it was for Krugan to step into the snow. 

“I hope you’re in good shape because I’m in need of your fighting prowess,” Aito declared, pointing towards the other end of the bridge where monstrosities made their way through the many corpses obstructing their way. “I need to rest for a few minutes. Do you think you can handle those level 2 creatures?”

Krugan nodded without even an ounce of doubt. “It will be done according to your will, my Khan.”

“If you need help, I’ll be standing right behind you. Also,” Aito injected mana into his ring, summoning an illusionary barricade of two walls with an entrance in between that would force berserkers to step in one by one. “That should make things easier for you.”

“Thank you, my Khan.” Krugan stepped forward, placing himself in front of the entrance.

Aito stood aside, took out his water bottle, hastily drunk from it, and waited for the show to start. He felt a bit regretful for not being able to do more than that.

He had no remaining spell balls. His last boom ball had been used on the Khül. All the support items he had were a flash ball and the repeater, not that bolts would do him any good against those bulky things.

ROAR!

Krugan planted his boots into the stone, held his tower shield coated in Durability firmly in front of him, and held strongly his huge one-handed ax that matched his frame rivaling a berserker’s.

‘Hum, if there was a picture book of orc fighting tactics or martial arts, this guy would be the incarnation of it. Even in the cold, he is like an impenetrable stonewall.’

The first berserker to reach Krugan charged for his tower shield. However, to its surprise, Krugan stood unmoving despite the powerful attack. Behind the berserker, other corrupted humans pushed those on the front, trying to force the orc out of the way.

Even for him, holding against their numbers was impossible and so he let the first one through, using their own momentum against them. With the sudden loss of resistance, the berserker lost balance, falling, followed by those behind him.

Taking advantage of that opportunity, Krugan stepped forward and hacked the berserker’s head.

BAM!

BAM!

With his precision, practiced moves, and because of the berserker neck’s thickness, it took him two hits to decapitate him entirely.

He stepped on the corpse, shieldbashed the one coming through the entrance with enough strength and accuracy to stun it, hacked its legs to destabilize it, and expertly sliced its throat at the right timing.

‘Holy shit,’ Aito had never realized how strong Krugan actually was. The orc may have no other real skill than Durability—probably because of the restrictions the gods had imposed on the race—but he was downright deadly.

Like a true war veteran, the orc used every advantage at his disposal. He used the barricades, corpses, and his own enemy momentums and numbers against them.

Krugan’s surgical precision was a step above Aito’s. If it hadn’t been for his superior stats in prison, Aito didn’t know if he would have won that fight.

Slowly, but surely, Krugan was holding his ground, piling up berserker corpses that were progressively removed by his raging opponents. Calm and composed, he had the upper hand on them.

‘Didn’t think he would be able to last this long with sheer technique alone. I wonder how strong he’ll become once he gets to actually use—what the fuck!?’

Krugan stomped the stone bridge, creating a long 10-meter trail that shook the ground, destabilizing his opponents’ footing.

—Active skill: Tremor—

‘How… now way… don’t tell me…’

[The candle’s blessing,] Valinar said. [Did you think it only applied to humans? No, it applies to any intelligent life form. Be it human or not.]

‘Does that mean…’

[Yes, every orc you’ve given a blessing to may be able to wield other skills than Durability. Though not necessarily every one of them will manifest the skills right away. You’ve certainly increased the 6th floor difficulty by a large margin for other challengers. The moderator might be biting his nails right now because of you.]

‘Ha…’ he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. On one hand, he was glad the orc got stronger since they might be of use to him later. On the other, he felt a bit guilty for the other challengers, particularly those he had fought with on the 5th floor. ‘Well, whatever… I’m not their granny anyway.’

ROAR!

Aito heard an unusual roar. Staring at the origin of that loud noise, he realized that all the berserkers in a 5 meters radius around Krugan were temporarily stunned.

—Active skill: Warlord’s Roar—

Taking advantage of this opportunity, the orc massacred them one after the other. Corpses on the pile slowly increased in number. A few moments later, Krugan came back to him, bloodied, panting but alive.

“It is done,” the orc said with solemn air to him.

Aito was impressed.

He had expected the orc would need him at some point. Krugan looked like he could handle two or three more waves on his own before eventually getting… killed. Aito thought about it, but he had enough rest next to the fire’s warmth. He wanted to speed things up and get out of this accursed barren frozen place.

“Filona’s frozen nipples… how many more skills do you have that I don’t know about?” Aito asked, patting Krugan’s broad shoulders with a satisfied smile.

“I… don’t know. I discovered those while fighting against other humans. Those are the only two… skills I can use other than Luzliatark,” the orc said.

“I see,” Aito pondered. “Can you see a floating ethereal window from time to time?”

The orc appeared to consider his question, “I…am sorry, my Khan. I do not know what that means.”

“Hum, I figured as much.”

[They do not possess the same System as you if that was your question. The System and the candle are two different entities, yet are very similar. Unless you—]

Berserkers charged the bridge, heading straight for Aito and Krugan, ‘Hang on Valinar. Let’s have this talk later.’

*****

Lore:

“Translated to the common tongue, Luzliatark was the name for Durability in orcish. Orcs of the 6th floor believed the yellow light that coated their armors and weapons was the temporary manifestation of their prized mineral, Luzli, the same mineral that composed some parts of the current Woodcutter’s armor. Thus the name Luzliatark.”

Extract from, “Yggdrasil Chronicles, The Woodcutter of Iris,” by Roan the Merchant.