With a mighty roar, Borin struck the Orc Lord with his hatchet, a blow that sent the orc flying back with such force that he crashed against the entrance of the bank. The impact shook the entire structure, eliciting terrified cries from the hostages cowering inside.

For a fleeting moment, Borin allowed himself a smug scoff, standing tall and proud as he witnessed the apparent success of his attack. However, his satisfaction quickly dissolved into a frown of concern as the Orc Lord rose to his feet with unsettling ease. The orc seemed barely fazed by the attack that would have incapacitated a lesser creature, brushing off the dust as if he had merely taken a small punch. The wound inflicted by the hatchet was superficial at best.

“You…You have the ‘Boss’ title??” Borin mumbled under his breath, his eyes widening in realization. The Orc Lord’s resilience and the minor nature of the injury confirmed Borin’s worst fears—the orc was indeed empowered by a ‘Boss’ title for the duration of the quest, granting him an absurd boost to all his stats. This title would only disappear once the quest concluded.

Boss quests rarely happen but come with tempting rewards for the side who wins.

However, Borin had understood the risks when he rushed in—aware of the high difficulty and the recommendation for two S Rankers.

But his priority had been the hostages’ safety, hoping to end the siege before the orcs executed them as the quest timer ran out. The orcs’ strategy to keep the hostages alive hinged on the demands of the quest until the timer expired. Otherwise, they would rather rape or eat the hostages just for fun.

“Everyone mocks us orcs for being dumbo, but this lord smarter than you fat old human,” the Orc Lord taunted with a contemptuous growl, mocking Borin’s solitary charge.

“Shut your ugly trap! Yaaaar!!” Borin retorted, his voice a mix of anger and defiance. He gathered his strength and swung his hatchet with renewed vigor. The blade cut through the air, igniting a terrifying whirlwind of flames that extended from the hatchet—a fearsome spectacle that screamed of destruction.

But as Borin prepared to hurl this fiery tempest towards the Orc Lord, the orc demonstrated his enhanced speed and strength. With a feral snarl, the Orc Lord lunged forward, closing the distance in a heartbeat. He raised his massive, hooked machete and, in a brutal display of power, cleaved off Borin’s arm that wielded the hatchet.

“Yargh!”

The sudden amputation made Borin lose his momentum, dissipating his flames.

The hatchet clattered to the ground, its flames extinguishing upon separation from its master, leaving Borin reeling from the shock and the abrupt loss, his battle cry turning into a pained grunt.

The Orc Lord stood over him, his machete dripping with blood, a sinister grin spreading across his gnarled face as his tongue slid over his lower canines, “This lord take your corpse and feed it to me pets.”

As the Orc Lord raised his machete for a fatal strike, the air suddenly and abruptly shimmered, and a blinding white light flooded the space around him. “Argh!” The intense brightness seared through the battleground, causing the Orc Lord to grunt in annoyance and pain. He stumbled backward, shielding his eyes with a massive, gnarled hand, his attack thwarted by the sudden luminance.

“You have terrorized our people enough. Return to your world, or I wouldn’t sit by and watch,” a firm yet gentle voice boomed from above. As the light gradually receded, it condensed into the figure of a man hovering in the sky, his presence as imposing as the words he had just uttered.

The Orc Lord, squinting against the residual glare, gazed upward. There, framed against the dusky sky, was a Hunter clad in golden armor with a white cape flowing behind him. In his hand, he held an elegant white staff with black accents topped with a radiant white crystal that still pulsed with the fading light.

Below, Borin stared in disbelief, the pain from his severed arm momentarily forgotten. The young man’s aura was overpoweringly strong, rivaling, if not surpassing, his own. More strikingly, there was a familiar quality to it, reminiscent of the great Evangelion Family, whose members were renowned for their signature elemental power of frostfire and white color mana. Even his features bore a resemblance to the illustrious line, especially the Aira Evangelion who disappeared!

Even the media helicopters buzzing overhead paused, their cameras fixed on the new arrival, their broadcasts filled with speculation about the identity of this powerful young Hunter who had forced the Orc Lord to retreat with mere light.

“You Hunter…This lord no recognize you,” the Orc Lord growled, pointing his blood-dripped machete at the newcomer.

“I am Arthur Evangelion, and from today onwards, I am officially on duty to stop you demons,” Arthur declared, his voice firm and determined as he descended beside Borin. With a concerned smile, he offered his assistance, “Your arm, sir…Please let me help you,” he said, swiftly picking up Borin’s severed limb.

“Kid…He has the ‘Boss’ title; you should be careful,” Borin managed, wincing in pain yet touched by the young man’s bravery. But for some reason, he didn’t feel like telling the kid not to fight the orc lord.

“I will be fine, sir,” Arthur reassured him, his smile unwavering. He then placed the severed arm against Borin’s bleeding stump. From the white crystal of his silver staff emanated a cool yet warm white mana that enveloped the gruesome wound. Borin’s eyes began to widen as he watched the energy stitch the flesh back together rapidly, healing it and reducing his pain.

“You…Are you…” Borin looked up at this young man and had no doubt he had Evangelion blood flowing through his veins since the Restoration magic he just demonstrated was also something the Evangelion Family was renowned for.

But the shocking thing was that for an Evangelion to have all these abilities, they should belong to the direct line of descendants, the prime branch.

So, who was this young man really when Aira was the last descendant of the Evangelion Family?

Even the staff he was holding was…

The Orc Lord’s temples visibly bulged with veins, his rage reaching a boiling point upon witnessing this little human’s disregard for his presence and focusing instead on healing the fat old Hunter.

“This lord be enjoy eating your flesh soon!” he bellowed, his voice echoing ominously through the area as he lunged forward, his machete aimed to cut down Arthur in a single, fatal swoop.

But Arthur, with an almost serene composure, stabbed the end of his staff into the ground, a brilliant, radiant white light pulsed outward in every direction, humming with potent energy.

Caught mid-lunge, the Orc Lord’s eyes widened in shock as his movements began to slow dramatically, almost as if the very air around him had turned to molasses. A chilling cold enveloped him, paradoxically burning like fire against his skin, a torturous sensation that kept slowing him down mere inches from Arthur’s neck.

“You should have heeded my warning,” Arthur said calmly, shaking his head in mild rebuke as the Orc Lord struggled against the debilitating magic that ensnared him. Layers of frost began to form overhis, crackling and hissing as they spread across his gnarled skin.

“So now you will pay for the lives you have destroyed,” Without hesitation, Arthur raised his staff, pointing it directly at the Orc Lord. A concentrated power of white mana began to swirl around the crystal tip, gathering into a devastating beam of pure energy. The air around the staff shimmered with the force of the gathering power.

“NOO!!” The Orc Lord roared in terror, a sound filled with the horror of impending doom. He could feel the magnitude of the power being channeled and knew the destruction it promised.

*BOOM!*

In the next moment, a deafening boom shattered the relative silence of the standoff as a radiant white beam erupted from Arthur’s staff. The beam struck with unerring precision, boring straight into the Orc Lord’s chest. The energy pierced through flesh and bone with effortless brutality, leaving a gaping, bloody hole where it exited his back before the beam dissipated into the air.

Borin had his jaw drop upon seeing the staggering display of power from this young man even though he seemed to have exhausted a lot of mana in that single move.

That was 1

/5th of the power of a decently powerful nuke condensed into a single, concentrated beam which was so precise and calculated that it dissipated right after it did its job to prevent any collateral damage. Just what kind of sweet faced monster was he?

Staggering backward, the Orc Lord’s expression shifted from fury to disbelief. His jaws slackened, blood spurting from his mouth in a gruesome fountain as his body and mind struggled to comprehend the fatal blow. With a final, shuddering gasp, he collapsed to the ground, his massive form creating a thud that resonated through the immediate area.

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