Abandoned Church – Night
Orcbolg sat on the wooden floor, armor and helmet set aside. His bare back faced Hestia as she carefully traced the Falna on his skin.
The divine markings glowed faintly, shifting. His stats were updating.
Then—she stiffened.
Her blue eyes widened as she stared at the results.
"You… grew this much again?" she whispered.
Orcbolg remained silent. Waiting.
After a moment, Hestia grabbed parchment and wrote down his status.
Orcbolg's Status
Name: Orcbolg
Level: 1
Strength: G 299 → F 388
Endurance: G 275 → F 365
Dexterity: G 301 → F 412
Agility: G 324 → F 437
Magic: H 195 → G 278
Skills:
Relentless Pursuer – The longer a battle lasts, the sharper his instincts become. Grants increased perception of enemy movements over time.
Magic:
None
Development Abilities:
None (Locked until Level 2)
Months of Growth
Hestia exhaled, gripping the parchment tighter.
It had been months since he became an adventurer.
At first, his growth had been steady but normal. But over time, it became clear—his rate of improvement was far beyond the average.
Most adventurers took years to push past G-rank stats at Level 1. Yet here he was, nearing F-rank already.
"You're really something, you know that?" she muttered.
Orcbolg studied the parchment but didn't respond.
Hestia frowned. "Hey… You know, you don't have to keep pushing yourself like this. You've already gotten so much stronger. You could slow down a little—"
"I have to be stronger."
His answer was immediate.
Hestia sighed. Same answer as always.
"You're not normal," she murmured.
Orcbolg said nothing.
After a moment, he picked up his helmet, sliding it over his head.
Hestia watched him, worry lingering in her chest.
Just what kind of life had he lived before coming here?