After dragging the elk carcass into his storage bag, Hulk knelt beside the Champion's Chest. It looked plain, just worn wood and rusted iron, but it gave off this heavy, old feeling, like it carried the weight of the ancestors.
No locks. Hulk lifted the lid, and inside sat a single bottle filled with swirling blue liquid, cool mist leaking from its open mouth.
The moment Hulk sniffed it, he felt his wounds ease, his aching muscles soothed by a refreshing chill crawling up his arms.
"By the War God... this stuff's strong."
Through the panel, he checked its details:
[Ancient War God's Brew]
[Effect: Increases all attributes by (1–10) when consumed. Loses effect after 1 hour. Useless if an attribute's over 90.]
"Orc-made. Pure strength," Hulk grinned. "Good. Real good."
But even good brews had a cost. Strong elixirs always bite back later. Hulk didn't trust potions to go down smooth without some burn in return.
He patted the wolf beside him. "C'mon, Gnash. We need a place to hole up."
Awoo!
Guided by the wolf, Hulk found a tight cave. The entrance was small, but Hulk smashed it wider with raw brute force, stone cracking under his fists and elbows. Orcs didn't need fancy tools.
Inside, it was big enough for both of them, dry and hidden.
As Hulk dragged stones to block the entrance, he noticed something odd beneath his feet, powder on his knuckles glowing faint red.
"Emberstone..."
Emberstone burned hot and long. Worth more than tusks of a mountain boar. Finding this stash was like tripping over gold.
[System Reminder: Emberstone Mine Discovered – 100 tons remaining.]
"Ha! Praise the War God! 100 tons?"
This wasn't just luck. This was fate.
Enough Emberstone to keep the whole Bloodfang Tribe warm all winter, maybe longer. No more freezing nights or old warriors dying with frost in their beards. Hulk's fists weren't just meant for breaking bones—they could bring life too.
But first, the brew.
"Let's get this over with."
Hulk tilted his head back, chugging the icy potion down his throat. Cool at first, then like swallowing coals. His gut churned, and heat roared through his bones like molten rock.
"ARGHHH!"
Veins bulged. His muscles swelled. His green skin flushed darker, turning the color of old blood under torchlight. It was like someone had jammed burning spears beneath his ribs.
Gnash whimpered but stayed close, ears low.
Hulk's mind nearly broke under the pain, but deep in his chest, something old stirred. The blood of the orc—pure, fighting blood. Not just from Grond Bloodfang, but from ancestors before him.
Finally, the burn eased. Hulk collapsed, darkness swallowing him whole.
...
He woke to a warm tongue on his hand. Gnash.
"I'm alive."
The wolf barked once. Hulk chuckled weakly and checked his panel:
[Name: Hulk]
[Race: Orc]
[Level: Standard]
[Age: 12 years]
[Height: 7.2 feet]
[Weight: 530 pounds]
[Strength: 24]
[Agility: 15]
[Intelligence: 18]
Title: Champion
Special Skill: Blood Fury
"Good growth. Feels right."
His muscles felt packed, not bloated like before, pure fighting muscle, the kind that could crush ribs with an elbow or tear an arm from a socket in a wrestling hold.
Blood Fury, huh? Probably tied to that burning rage he felt earlier. He'd figure it out soon.
Night was creeping in. The Blood Forest after dark wasn't a place for half-grown orcs to wander around without caution.
"Gnash, remember this place."
The wolf lifted its leg and pissed on the cave entrance. Good enough for a tracker.
They started walking home. Hulk knew his kills today would make his mother proud, maybe even get a nod from Grond, but it was Gorrka's approval he wanted most. His sister was a true brawler—he still hadn't beaten her yet in a fight.
And Borzak—heh, that tuskless fool would choke on jealousy once Hulk told him about the Emberstone.
As they hurried through the shadows, a low growl echoed through the trees. Something big moved ahead.
Then, stepping into the moonlight, a beast the size of an orc's hut appeared—fur blood-red, glowing faint like coals.
[Beast: Crimsonfang Bear]
[Level: Elite]
[Weight: 1500 pounds]
[Strength: 31]
[Agility: 14]
[Magic: 53]
Skill: Flame Breath
It wasn't a normal beast. No, this was something worse—a Crimsonfang, a magical breed of voidspawn-touched bears with fire burning in their guts.
Hulk clenched his fists, knuckles cracking. No sword. No spear. Just bone and muscle versus flame and fang.
"Fine," he muttered, rolling his shoulders. "Let's see if you can handle real fighting."
Fists up. Elbows ready. Knees sharp. Legs steady.
The fight wasn't going to be pretty.
It was going to be messy.
It was going to be brutal.
Author's note: Try my other work: Devour to Conquer: Reincarnated as the Primal Lion Sovereign.