Berserk

Solam couldn't feel any pain at all. His mind was a muddled mess, and his consciousness was beginning to fade. All he wanted was to tear the creature in front of him to pieces. He wiped at the wound on his chest and looked down at the blood on his hand. Something in his mind seemed to snap completely. His vision turned red, and then he knew nothing more.

In the Snow Tiger's eyes, Solam had become the most terrifying creature in the world. Solam wiped at his wound, then threw back his head and roared. His body began swelling rapidly, growing a whole size larger and rising well over two meters tall. His muscles burst through his clothes, and the veins bulging across them looked like old tree roots, as if they could explode at any moment. He let out another roar, then charged straight at the Snow Tiger.

With death looming over it, the Snow Tiger went completely berserk as well. Ignoring its many wounds, it roared and charged at Solam.

The two utterly crazed "beasts" had eyes only for each other. Solam struck with his axe, and the Snow Tiger retaliated with its claws. The battle drew the Direwolves and the cubs over, though only one cub remained. Frostfang had already bitten its opponent to death, crushing its throat so completely that its windpipe was exposed. Now it lay motionless in a pool of blood.

After finishing off its opponent, Frostfang immediately joined Bloodfang in attacking the last cub. In the short time Solam had been fighting the adult Snow Tiger, the two Direwolves had brought the cub to the brink of collapse. Even part of its tail had been bitten off. It didn't look like it could hold out much longer.

But now, neither the cub nor the two Direwolves had any interest in fighting. They were completely transfixed by Solam and the Snow Tiger's death match.

Solam and the adult Snow Tiger were both covered in blood, but neither retreated. They traded wounds, each one waiting to see who would be the first to fall.

The adult Snow Tiger had already been somewhat weak, and its earlier injuries only made things worse. It was close to giving out. After losing too much blood, its reactions suddenly slowed. But Solam, in his berserk state, seemed completely indifferent to pain. Taking advantage of the opening, he brought his axe down on the Snow Tiger's back. The blow nearly broke its spine and left it on the brink of death.

Every hunter knew that a wounded beast's final strike was the deadliest. The Snow Tiger must have sensed its fate. Gathering the last of its strength, it opened its jaws and lunged for Solam's throat, hoping to drag its enemy to Hell with it before it died.

Solam had completely lost his senses, but his instincts took over. He grabbed the Snow Tiger's upper jaw with one hand. Then, in the blink of an eye, he swung his axe one-handed and cleaved its entire head off.

The scene fell silent at once. The cub seemed completely terrified, staring over at them without moving. But Frostfang and Bloodfang weren't so easily frightened. The moment they saw Solam chop off the adult Snow Tiger's head, they turned toward the cub. Seeing it still dazed, Bloodfang charged over, clamped its jaws around the cub's throat, and knocked it to the ground. Frostfang was just as quick. The instant the cub fell and exposed its soft belly, Frostfang rushed in, using its fangs and claws to tear it open.

After cutting off the Snow Tiger's head, Solam's body quickly returned to normal. Then, as if all his strength had left him, he dropped onto the snow, staining it red with blood. The redness faded from his entire body, and his skin returned to its usual color. (One obvious difference between Avalon Orcs and other Orcs was their skin color. Avalon Orcs had skin somewhat like the yellow-skinned people of his previous life. The other Orcs' skin colors would be mentioned later, so for now, that was all.) Then Solam toppled backward into the snow and passed out.

After an unknown amount of time, Solam slowly felt his consciousness return to his body.

"Ugh..." Solam let out a weak groan. His body felt as if he'd overexerted himself, and every muscle ached. He struggled to open his eyes. The first thing he saw was a huge, rugged face with two big tusks jutting from its mouth. The sight startled him just as he came to. If he hadn't been so weak, he would have punched it.

"Thank goodness, Ram! You're all right. You're finally awake!" The owner of the face saw Solam open his eyes and immediately cried out in delight.

It was Krum. But could he please stop getting so close to Solam's face? Honestly, even after living here for so many years, Solam still couldn't get used to the Orcs' rough appearance. The female Orcs were a little better. They were rough-looking too, but he could handle them. But the men...

He had to thank his cheap old man for finding himself an Elf mother to balance things out. Solam wasn't exactly handsome, but at least he was easy on the eyes. He didn't have those two big tusks, at any rate. The moment he came to, he was already off on another tangent.

"Are you all right, Ram? How do you feel?" Krum helped Solam sit up and asked with concern.

"I'm all right. I just feel exhausted. By the way, what happened to that Snow Tiger?" Solam had barely answered Krum before he thought of the tiger. But as soon as he looked up, he saw its headless corpse. "What the hell? Wh-who did this?"

"Wasn't it you? When I woke up, I saw that the Snow Tiger was dead and you were passed out over here," Krum said, puzzled.

"..." Solam looked at the Snow Tiger's corpse and the severed head beside him, then at his own wounds and the bloodstained axe beside him. He couldn't remember anything that had happened. He only knew that when he'd seen Krum knocked away, his mind had gone blank.

"By the way, are you all right? I saw you get knocked flying. Were you hurt?" Remembering Krum being sent flying, Solam hurried to ask.

"I'm fine. I was just knocked out for a bit. My chest felt a little stuffy, but I just coughed up some blood, and I feel much better now." Krum touched the spot on his chest where he'd been hit and said glumly. He felt a little ashamed. He'd been knocked out not long after the fight began. It was so embarrassing. If not for Solam, he'd be dead. Thinking that he was older than Solam but had needed Solam to step in and protect him made Krum feel useless. As Solam would have put it, he was "pathetically weak."

Solam felt much more at ease after hearing Krum was all right. Avalon Orcs had absurdly tough bodies. As long as they were fine at the time, they usually suffered no lasting effects afterward.

Suddenly, a white blur pounced on Solam, and a tongue started licking all over his face. "All right, all right, Frostfang, I'm fine now. But if you don't get off me, something really will happen." Seeing Solam wake up, Frostfang, who had been keeping watch nearby, had immediately rushed over to show its affection. It was clearly so excited that Solam was awake that it had forgotten its duty to keep watch.

Hearing Solam, Krum came to his senses and pulled Frostfang off him. Frostfang obviously didn't want to leave Solam's side. It climbed down reluctantly, but still lay down beside him.

"Phew!" Solam let out a long breath as Krum helped him sit up again. He reached out and patted Frostfang's big head. He'd nearly been crushed. With Frostfang's size now, his current body couldn't handle it.

"How are you feeling now?" Krum asked with concern.

"I'm fine. I'm just exhausted. Give me a little time to recover, and I'll be all right." Solam felt much better than before. A little more rest, and he'd be back on his feet.

"Then rest for a while. I'll take care of the corpses. This hunt was dangerous, but we sure caught a lot of prey." Seeing that Solam looked much better, Krum was ready to deal with the corpses. They needed to leave as soon as possible, or the smell of blood might attract who knew what.

They'd caught quite a lot today: the corpse of an Alpine Goat, the corpse of an Alpine Goat kid, and three Snow Tigers—a large one and two cubs. They also had two live ewes and a lamb.

Krum dragged all the corpses together, then hesitated. There was so much prey. How were they supposed to handle it? In the end, he turned to ask Solam.

"Ram, we've got too much stuff. What should we do with it? This looks like it might be too much for us to manage."

"Yeah, you're right. Here's what we'll do: first, skin the two cubs. We don't need the meat or bones, but remember to pull out their fangs. Those are valuable. Then make two simple sleds out of branches. Put the big Snow Tiger on one, and load the ewe and lamb onto the other. Have Frostfang and Bloodfang pull the Snow Tiger, and we'll pull the one with the goats." Solam thought it over before answering. The Direwolves were strong, but Frostfang and Bloodfang were only two years old, and they'd both been hurt a little in the fight. Having them pull an adult Snow Tiger weighing at least 1,500 pounds by themselves would probably be too much for them, and they'd be very slow. It would be much quicker with both of them pulling together. As for the two goats, one large and one small, the two of them could pull those easily.

"Fine, let's do that." Krum might usually have been as honest as they came, but he was actually very quick to act. He picked up his axe and went with Bloodfang to chop branches nearby. In less than twenty minutes, the two simple sleds were ready.

Once the sleds were done, Krum drew his battle axe and chopped off the head of one of the cubs. Then he cut off all four paws and slit it open. He grabbed one corner of the hide and yanked hard, separating the skin from the flesh. A few more pulls, and he had stripped the cub's fur off. He did the same to the other one, working incredibly quickly. The pelts definitely weren't in the best condition, but they were in a hurry, so it didn't matter. Besides, Orc children had helped adults process prey from a young age, so they were used to it.