Chapter 372 Flawless Clearing

"Raaagh!"

"Rrragh!"

Both of the orcs attempted to smash the bearded adventurer with their clubs, though only managing to smash the rocky flooring and walls as Julius swiftly evaded their predictable attacks.

The Mountain God Style allowed for strikes that surpassed simple, superficial blows, allowing for Julius to stomp down as he cleaved a perfect, downward strike, splitting the orc in half from the top of its head.

"Ravine Separation."

"Hyraaaah!"

–The other orc was slammed against the wall by Everett, causing the cave to briefly rumble before its head was crushed against the rock.

"Hey! That one was mine!" Julius claimed.

"Didn't see yer name on it," Everett chuckled.

Emilio couldn't help but laugh, leading the way again, "Come on. Pretty sure Mother already began cooking before we left–don't wanna come back to cold plates, right?"

"True enough," Julius scratched his beard.

Everett patted his gauntlet against his stomach, "Treyna's home meals are ta' die for."

Perhaps proof of the challenges he went through was the fact that such a quest felt like a relaxing venture to go on with his friend and father; a pastime that was fun, yet without risk. It was a leisurely venture through the cave, taking out any orcs found–some of which seemed to have been woken up from sleep, only to be met with steel and magic.

–

Pointing a single finger forward with his metallic arm, Emilio aimed towards an orc that rushed towards him, coming from a room beyond the tunnel they were currently moving down. Without a word, he unleashed a bullet of fire that traveled faster than sound, colliding with the orc in a contained explosion.

"Gruhhh..."

The orc fell face first–dead, leaving the three unimpeded from moving onto what seemed to be the quarters of the chief of the cave-dwelling orcs.

"What's that now? I think that was twelve," Emilio recalled.

"Not a competition," Julius repeated.

Fortunately, there was no need to bring back proof of slaying the orcs to the guild quarters in town–a benefit of higher monster pop-ups and their trustworthy status as adventurers around Yullim.

Entering the rocky chamber at the end of the dank cavern, shiny minerals kept it dimly lit, showcasing the "chief" of the orcs that dwelled there: a massive, red-skinned orc that dwarfed the other of its kin five times over.

"There he is," Emilio remarked.

"Parting The Storm."

–The picture-perfect, straight strike cut through the orc's neck, bypassing its thick hide of flesh as a massive spray of blood immediately released.

"Oh!"

Not wanting to be doused in the chief's blood, he contained it within a spherical prison of water with but a movement of his hand before landing back down. Defeating the chief was hardly a challenge or an obstacle for the Dragonheart at the point he had reached now.

[Level Up!]

[Level 53 Achieved]

Over the course of the year and a half, he had leveled up significantly, gaining many skills along the way, though not having to rely on them as most outings around Yullim were only against goblins or packs of wolves. In short, Emilio had reached a level of power dwarfing that of old, yet remained untested–the limits of his current self were unknown.

"All done," he said with a smile, not having broken a sweat.

Hextrice stood beside him with her arms folded over her chest, hardly coming up to his waistline in height, yet holding a demeanor as if grander than lavish castles, "Then I suppose I will take my leave."

"Right, thanks for the assist," he said, patting the girl on the head.

The silver-eyed spirit didn't respond, accepting the pat before returning to the Astral Realm with one last "hmph", almost as if needing to fill a quota.

Since he finished the "boss" of the lair off so quickly, there were still some straggler orcs that the other two hadn't yet dealt with, which roared at the man who had just finished their leader before rushing him.

Emilio let out a sigh, holding his hand forward, "Seriously? I just beat your boss, what makes you think you stand a chance? Value your life more in your next one."

Before either of the pig-faced orcs could reach him, he wordlessly released magic of a grandiose level: armored arms made of bright, crimson flames conjured beside him, possessing a giant scale and moving swiftly as they grasped the orcs in their fists, hoisting them up.

Emilio squeezed his fist, signifying the two hands of fire to do the same as they wrung the life from the orcs, causing their flesh to burn and explode from the mystical pressure. It was a spell he had acquired through his recent studying: "Gauntlets of The Burnt Conquerors."

Wiping the dust off of his hands, he walked over just as Everett and his father had finished off the rest of the orcs.

"That's the last of 'em," Everett said, slamming his heavy shield down and wiping the sweat from his chin.

Julius rested his blood-slick sword on his shoulder, "I damn near pulled a muscle just now–dancing around a half dozen orcs is testing the limits of this old man."

"You're not that old," Emilio said with a small chuckle.

"My stiff neck says otherwise," Julius rubbed the back of his neck, "Anyways, let's head to the Guild office then back home–I can use a nice, warm meal after today."

"Same here," Emilio said.

"Hell yeah!" Everett pumped his fist into the air.

After heading into town to claim the bounty for exterminating the unwanted orcs from the eastern cave, a handsome amount of crowns were given to the three before they returned home with the sky dyed to a warm orange with the setting of the Sun.

The enticing aroma of a hot meal, smelling of seasoned pork and beef, escaped through the open windows of the Dragonheart residence, aiding the tired men with the energy they needed to finish their walk.