Chapter 64:Milkshake22 vs Direlion

Chapter 64: Chapter 64:Milkshake22 vs Direlion

Victor shut the hotel room door behind him.

He had no idea what the time difference looked like between this world and Gavalon, whether a day here meant a week there or the reverse, so he’d played it safe and booked the room for two full weeks straight.

He sat on the edge of the bed without bothering to take in the furniture, the view, any of it.

Just breathed in, out to regulate his emotions.

Before coming here, he’d stopped by Rook’s shop to pick up a low-grade health potion. He cracked it open the second he sat down, drinking the contents in one go, letting the warmth of it spread through his aching body.

A hundred thousand gil for one bottle. That was enough money to cover his and his father’s rent for three to maybe five years. But he’d handed it over without hesitation anyway. He needed to go in at full strength, and just in case, two more sat waiting in his inventory, courtesy of the money he’d gotten from the Cleavage gang.

He set the console down in front of him and powered it on.

The familiar Dungeon Conquest logo flared to life, and without waiting for his fear to make him think twice, he pressed login.

[Welcome Back, Milkshake22]

The pull hit him immediately, and the first thing that greeted him on the other side was... cold.

Real, biting cold, cutting straight through him despite the natural resistance his Barbarian body carried.

He exhaled, watching his breath fog in front of him, and slowly pushed himself upright. His joints cracked, muscle protesting the movement.

He looked down at himself. It was that same body with the same scars, same tattoos, and of course, the same frame.

I actually came back.

Also, it seemed like the game had continued from the position he’d logged out.

He was still curled in the narrow ledge of that same cave.

However, his eyes quickly caught something. Scratched deep into the stone wall beside him were claw marks. They looked fresh and desperate, like something had spent considerable time trying to dig its way in even after he’d vanished.

A cold realization settled over him.

If his body stayed exactly where he’d left it while he was gone, had it also remained vulnerable this entire time?

What if the Direlion had broken through while he was gone? That meant that his Babarian body would have become lunch.

He swallowed hard, suddenly very grateful he had hidden behind this tight space before logging out.

Maybe for his next log out, he’d hide his Barbarian body properly, or at least get a defensive armament, just in case.

At the same time, he’d thought of his body in the real world. It was a good thing he rented out that room for two weeks straight.

At least he was sure that he would have been back before then.

Carefully, he leaned toward the cave’s edge and peered out.

The Direlion was there. It looked fed, sprawled beside the picked-clean carcass of a beast it had clearly hunted during whatever stretch of time had passed. Some of the bones were left scattered around the Direlion.

But now, the Direlion rested, chest rising and falling slow and heavy.

Victor pulled back, his mind already racing through everything he remembered about Direlions.

He’d have to take that beast down if he wanted any path back to the Southern Bloodline tribe.

Ding!

[New Trial Detected]

[The Prey Of The Hunted]

[Do you accept?]

Victor suddenly felt like tge game was rage baiting him because he clearly had no choice but to accept.

He willed in his mind.

[Trial Accepted]

[Direlion — Alpha]

[Level: 6]

[Threat Class: Territorial Predator]

[HP: 820/820]

[STR: 68] [DEF: 45] [SPD: 52] [VIT: 60]

[Unique Trait: Pack Alpha — enhanced size, aggression, and territorial instinct]

[Special Ability: Frost Maw — exhales a short-range burst of freezing breath immediately after a pounce, dealing bonus damage and applying Slow]

Victor studied the information hovering in his vision, committing every line to memory. Luckily, he still remembered this creature’s weakness. He had faced it in-game at least a hundred times.

A normal barbarian would have fought screamed like a fool and fought it head on. But Victor was not that type.

Besides, he had a feeling that if he died here, there was no Checkpoint to resume game play.

Victor remembered that the Direlions usually moved as a pride. But alphas enjoyed their own space.

Meaning that a pride might be out there. Although he did not meet them the first time he came here, they might have been hiding in the snow for all he knew.

Victor also remembered that Direlions had reduced maneuverability in confined spaces because of their size, and there was that exposed flank beneath the mane.

If he could just get to it, he would win this battle.

Still, he had not forgotten that this was a Level 6 beast.

It was higher than him, and even if they were of the same level, beasts were usually stronger, but not impossible to confront.

The real danger wasn’t the level though. As a gamer, he had faced worse. It was that Frost Maw ability.

It was usually a pounce followed immediately by a point-blank blast of ice. If he got caught in that combo, he’d be slowed down, and in a fight with this creature, he needed speed the most.

Direlions were big and bulky, built for open terrain, to run prey down in wide spaces. This cave was narrow, cramped, and full of jagged outcroppings.

An Alpha like this would have real trouble pivoting fast in tight spaces. Victor believed that its intimidating size would work more against it instead of for it.

Victor’s eyes searched for the other weak point in its mane. Even though it was thick and bristling along its neck and shoulders, it left one spot exposed.

This spot was at its flank, just behind the foreleg, where the fur thinned out to let the joint move freely. Yes. There was no natural armor there at all.

Victor’s eyes drifted to the picked-clean carcass a few feet from where the Lion slept.

An idea formed in his mind.

He crept out of the narrow corner he was hiding, moving slow, and careful, until he was close enough to grab the remains of the kill.

The Direlion did not notice. Eating to it’s fill had a thing to do with this.

After all, like most beasts, it did not go hunting when it was full. Unless of course, it was threatened.

Victor hauled the carcass a short distance deeper into the narrow passage behind him, dropping it in a spot that forced anything chasing it into the tightest section of the tunnel.

Then he threw a small rock at the Lion’s flank.

It worked instantly. The Lion’s eyes snapped open, a deep snarl rattling out of its chest the second it registered its kill missing. Its head swung toward Victor, pure territorial fury replacing sleep in half a second.

It lunged.

Victor was already moving, backing into the narrow passage, willing the axe from his Inventory, gripping them tight in both hands.

The Lion surged after him, and exactly as he’d hoped, its shoulders scraped hard against the tunnel walls, it’s momentum breaking. That pounce he’d been dreading was instantly reduced to an awkward, half-controlled lurch.

Seeing its condition, the Direlion fired its frost Maw anyway. A burst of freezing air clipped Victor’s side as he dove clear, ice crystallizing across his shoulder.

Instantly, his movement became sluggish, but he gritted his teeth and kept moving.

The Lion recovered fast, snapping its jaws toward him, claws raking the stone an inch from his leg. Victor swung the axe in response. Unfortunately, he only caught the mane, his blade skidding uselessly off its thick fur.

Shit I missed. I was supposed to hit lower.

He circled it, watching the beast’s pattern closely.

If there was anything he had learnt in this game, then it was that every character, beasts included, had habits that could be exploited.

The way the Lion always reset into the same stance after a missed strike, head low, weight shifted back onto its haunches before the next pounce. For three times Victor watched it happen. Three times it repeated exactly the same way.

The fourth time, Victor moved first.

He feinted toward its face, drawing the lunge, then dropped low and drove the axe hard into the exposed flank the instant its weight shifted forward.

The Lion roared, more in fury than pain, and its claws caught Victor across the ribs before he could fully clear the strike, tearing deep, searing pain blooming through his whole side.

He staggered, vision swimming, blood trailing down his side.

Oh, screw this. He roared.

[BERSERKER INSTINCT — ACTIVE]

Strength surged through him, allow the pain to dull into something distant and manageable. He surged back in before the Lion could capitalize, axe already swinging, catching the same wounded flank again, then again, each strike landing exactly where the mane couldn’t protect it.

The Lion thrashed, slamming against the tunnel walls, cornered by its own size in a space too narrow to fight properly in. Victor kept pressing, relentless, driven by the forty-five seconds he knew wouldn’t last forever.

One final strike buried the axe deep into the wound, and the Lion’s legs finally gave out beneath it, its massive body collapsing sideways against the tunnel floor with a final, shuddering breath.

Silence.

Victor stood there, chest heaving, blood dripping from the axe and from his own side, sweat soaking through what remained of the cloth around his waist.

He stared down at the massive body for a long moment.

Then he started laughing loudly.

It was filled with the disbelief of a person baffled that their plan actually worked.

After all, playing with a controller was entirely different from fighting in real life.

His knees gave way and he fell on the ground, watching as the blood of the Direlion soaked the snow earth.

Ding!

(Author’s Note: Thanks for showing love. Let’s go to the Babarian tribe.)