Chapter 6 : Animal blood is a tonic food

Teabagging is Bad Manners

The flood of curses in the chat window—directed at someone squatting and standing over a corpse after shooting it dead—proved it.
Even in esports competitions, players have faced penalties for teabagging.
That’s the impact, even in the anonymous online world.
In real life, it’d spark a fistfight—a blatant provocation.

In that sense, gorging herself in front of orcs desperate for emergency rations was prime teabagging material.
But they were the ones who’d been rude first.
They weren’t here to negotiate—they’d planned to take her food by force, relying on their numbers.

Whatever Lena did was self-defense.
And if she also managed to rile up the filthy orcs’ tempers? That’d be a bonus thrill.

Puheueu!

The orcs in front of Lena—her cheeks puffed out as if about to burst—breathed heavily.
Bloodshot eyes glared, hands gripping weapons tightly, exuding menace.

Simple-minded bastards.

The smile on Lena’s lips wasn’t forced—it was pure, unfiltered glee.
Oh, but this might choke me to death.

Her mouth had dried out trying to swallow the jerky, even though it wasn’t fully dried.
Fortunately, the orc blood coating it helped.
The fishy stench hit hard on the first bite, nearly triggering her gag reflex, but after chewing for a while, the flavor kicked in.

[The extreme poison contained in the orc’s blood invades your body!]
[Poison Resistance (Lv. Max) detoxifies it!]

The subtle savoriness after the fishiness faded, paired with a tingling, carbonated-like pop, was oddly addictive.
She could see herself hoarding a stash to munch on whenever she got bored.

[You have consumed the mana-filled seminal blood of the orc!]
[The mana contained in the seminal blood is absorbed into your body!]

Animal blood’s a tonic, after all.
Arctic natives drink reindeer blood for nutrients, and coagulated cow blood becomes blood curd.
So what’s the big deal about drinking it?
As long as it doesn’t kill you.

[The mana ingrained in your entire body has reached saturation!]
[You are having difficulty absorbing mana!]

The real issue was that blood didn’t give her the same boost it used to.
The first time she drank it, energy surged through her—she’d thought, “So this is why old folks obsess over stamina.”
She’d even avoided it for months, teary-eyed, hoping to recapture that rush, but it never hit as hard again.
Her body had built up a tolerance.
What a shame.

Guess I’ll stop treating orc blood like an energy drink and sip it like soda instead.

Lena wiped the blood from her lips and stared ahead, her face simmering with anticipation.
You’re still not coming? I’d love to fight soon.
If I could chop off their heads and stockpile their blood… Gulp.

Her eyes rolled back as she mentally planned her next meal.

Kruooo!

An orc unleashed a thunderous roar.
The sound shook the dirt floor and sent mountain birds scattering.
The hairs on Lena’s body stood on end.

But the roar actually calmed the orc down.
One orc, a head taller than the rest—the leader—raised both hands and shook his head.
A gesture of surrender.
Then, as if to say, “Eat slowly, we won’t take it,” he extended both hands politely.

“Hey, they’re not gonna attack?”

Lena frowned.
The orcs just looked baffled.
A human who gets mad when you back off without a fight?

“Then I’m eating all this myself? Aren’t you guys hungry?”

Their eyes, though, betrayed their hunger—lingering, ravenous, like bloodthirsty beasts.
How’s that a human?

But it was precisely because this human was so bizarre that the leader opted for surrender.
He pointed at the headless orc corpse sprawled beside Lena and wiggled his body.

“Oh, so you were chasing him?”

The leader nodded so vigorously it seemed a gust of wind might follow.

In the Great Forest, where she was the lone human, Lena had mastered communicating with monsters through gestures rather than words.
Reading orc body language was child’s play.

“Hey, what a letdown. I thought we’d fight, but nope.”

Lena stopped scarfing down the jerky, her excitement deflated.
Still, she pieced it together.
It seemed this whole mess stemmed from an exile who’d taken a wrong turn while fleeing.

“I knew it.”

She’d cleared this area ages ago.
She’d wondered why an orc would pick a fight with her.
Orcs were among the more communicative creatures in the Great Forest.
It was about time to reinforce discipline, but it’d have been awkward if the orcs had started it.

Still… Hm, they’re orcs, and they’re backing off without a fight?
Her last shred of hope was mercilessly crushed.
The leader clearly had no intention of spilling blood.
He was sharp for an orc—probably why he was in charge.

In that case, I’ll rile up the underlings instead.

Hoo! Hoo!

Sure enough, a smaller orc was huffing, chest heaving.
Lena locked eyes with him and smacked her lips—like a predator eyeing prey.

The reaction was instant.
Unable to contain his rage, the orc charged, ignoring the leader’s restraint, swinging his club.

Buuung!

The club sliced through the air with a booming thud, like a drumbeat.
Orc combat was straightforward.
They relied on brawn over brains.
With their natural strength, some used raw muscle, others wielded crude weapons like clubs or axes.
Why bother with strategy when you could shatter rocks?
Crush a skull, and the fight’s over—simple.

“So he attacked first, huh?”

It was the same for Lena.
To her, the club’s swing was slow enough to bore her to tears.
Its trajectory was so obvious she could’ve dodged it blindfolded.

Before she even planned her move, her body reacted.
Thud. Her slender hands caught the club mid-swing, halting it in the air.

The orc’s eyes bulged.
Her arm muscles flexed subtly, and with a snap, the wooden club broke in her grip.

Lena planted both hands on the ground, flipped upside down, and thrust her legs upward.
The orc, off-balance from his swing, took her rising foot straight to the chin, head snapping back.
He was out cold, but she wasn’t done.

Spinning midair to right herself, she drove her heel downward in the opposite direction, burying his head into the ground.
The orc flailed like a fish out of water, then went still.
No matter how tough his muscles were, a caved-in skull was game over.

“…”

Silence blanketed the area.
It’d happened in a flash.
To an onlooker, it was a seamless flow—Lena just stood up with a bit of flair.
In the process, an orc died.
Like squashing a bug.
A clear display of her dominance.

What followed, as the orcs stood frozen, was a masterpiece.

Gulp!

Her smooth throat—lacking an Adam’s apple—rippled as she drank.
She scooped blood from the orc’s corpse with both hands and swallowed it down.

“Kuhah.”

Her refreshed exclamation sounded like a hero downing a shot of liquor, not blood.

“Mm, delicious.”

She smacked her lips, her lingering regret plain, sending shivers through the orcs.

A monster. That’s what they instinctively realized.
An unexpected powerhouse who’d appeared in the Great Forest—the cradle of ceaseless battles—and carved out her own domain.

“Oh, you saw, right? He attacked first. This is self-defense.”

The leader didn’t argue.
He shook his head as if to say, “Do what you want,” then turned and walked away.
The terrified orcs trailed after him.

“Hey, how boring.”

Lena muttered, her thrill fading.
She’d expected a brawl, but they were fleeing.
At least I got one. That’s a decent haul.

“The physical changes are impressive, though.”

Lena hadn’t provoked the orcs just to stockpile soda—though that was a big motivator.
Her real goal was to fully awaken the destiny of the Wild and explore what had changed.

From what she could tell, her muscles moved with newfound elasticity, and the subtle creaks that once accompanied her movements were gone.
Image-wise, she was closer to a mollusk—fluid, adaptable.
She felt she could pull off any wild maneuver she imagined without effort.

Above all, her senses had sharpened dramatically.
Already keen, they were now so acute that she didn’t just predict movements—she saw them, crystal-clear.

“…”

That’s how she noticed it.
Something she’d overlooked until now.
Traces, nearly perfectly concealed, came into focus.

It hadn’t been long.
A month at most for the oldest ones, with some left just today.

“…Someone’s been robbing my house?”

Signs of theft.