Pushing aside the bushes, Dilin froze at the sight before him—his heart skipped a beat.
Beyond the foliage stood a two-meter-tall humanoid creature. Its entire body was moss-green, with curved fangs jutting past its lips and crawling up its cheeks. Half its face was smeared with paint-like red pigment. A nearly bald head sprouted a single thin braid—a look eerily reminiscent of those "shamate" hairstyles from Dilin’s original world.
But what seized attention were its limbs: thick, corded with muscle, veins bulging like ropes. One blow from those arms would shatter Dilin’s slight frame instantly. He doubted his skull could withstand even a casual squeeze from those massive hands.
*Orc?!*
Dilin stared, stunned yet oddly familiar with this hulking stranger. Why familiar? Back in his old world, he’d devoured countless manhua about orcs—well, some were black-and-white too—mostly featuring orcs and elves in… *ahem*… certain scenarios.
Cough. This world’s orcs differed slightly—like having actual hair, albeit in a style straight out of some primitive nomadic tribe. Otherwise, they matched the comics perfectly. One glance was all Dilin needed to ID it.
A primal sense of danger washed over him, urging flight. Not just from seeing this nonhuman giant up close—but from something subtler…
His eyes snapped to the orc’s opponent: an elf girl crouched low, propping herself up with a curved blade. She was injured. Her uniform marked her as a Coleman Academy student. Silver hair fell just past her shoulders, side strands tied with red ribbons. Her violet eyes—glassy and exhausted—held a trace of defeat.
*A Moon Elf?*
This fight had dragged on. Sadly, she was far too young. Her face tugged at Dilin’s memory, merging with his image of Astrid before her awakening. He realized with a jolt: this elf girl bore an uncanny resemblance to pre-awakening Astrid. Had he not known Astrid had already undergone Divine Maiden Transformation, he might’ve mistaken them. *Clan kin? Or direct bloodline?*
Unawakened Divine Maidens held no Divine Right—their strength and speed were child-level. Wrestling this muscle-bound orc was suicide. Even her blade looked unlikely to pierce its hide.
The outcome was clear. Unless a miracle happened, this silver-haired elf was about to meet a grim fate. What kind? Dilin didn’t dare spell it out—too explicit for these pages.
Some spin-offs claimed orcs were honorable clans who’d never *ahem* assault female knights. Sadly, Dilin’s research in the *Demonfolk Compendium* confirmed this world’s orcs lived up to every vile expectation: simple-minded brutes obsessed with strength, conquest, and stealing mates—especially *other* men’s wives. They’d even force husbands to watch.
They revered power, yes. But they also craved others’ spouses. Craved minotaurs.
Judging by the orc warrior’s gleaming eyes, Dilin could guess exactly what awaited the elf if she fell. The beast was already licking its chops for its prize.
Elf and orc—the classic pairing of doujinshi fame. History repeating itself.
Afterward? If satisfied, the orc might share her with his tribe. If not? Coleman Academy students would likely find her broken body in Coleman Forest by dawn.
Dilin glanced at his overheating firearm, smoke still curling from its barrel. Useless now. He doubted this pea-shooter could kill an orc anyway—against that bulk, it was like throwing a toothpick. And forcing another shot now would only make it explode.
*Doesn’t matter. I can’t help.*
Silence stretched. Dilin pressed his palms together, whispering: "I’m sorry, classmate. I’m powerless. Truly."
"If I charge in, I won’t save you—I’ll just die too. Don’t blame me…"
*I have to run.*
"Help… please…" The girl’s choked sob cut through the air, thick with tears and despair.
This scene—so like Astrid’s past. Maybe it was her face, so like Astrid’s. Maybe it was the memory. Whatever the reason, some reckless courage surged through Dilin. He turned back, snatched a stone from the ground, and hurled it at the orc’s head.
***Thwack!*** The pebble struck the orc’s thick skull.
