The next day, Gorrka, her wild black hair tied back in braids, her tusks gleaming beneath sharp lips, stomped into Hulk's tent. She was already taller than most of their kin, with strong arms and a bust that made even seasoned warriors sneak glances.
"These are the weapons the Bloodfang warriors favor," she grunted, tossing several crude but solid weapons onto the ground before him. "They ain't pretty, but they kill just fine. Take your pick."
Hulk stepped forward, inspecting the crude racks and bundles of weapons. No glaives in sight. He clicked his tongue in disappointment—he had wielded a glaive in his past life as a human, its weight and reach feeling like an extension of his own arm. But here, he had to adapt.
Five minutes later, he emerged, carrying two weapons: a heavy bone cleaver and a throwing spear.
"Oi, don't get cocky," Gorrka barked. "You've barely grown your tusks yet. Best to master one before thinking you're some warlord."
Hulk gave a toothy grin. "Why not both? Cleaver for skull-breaking, spear for gutting from afar. Sounds like fun."
Gorrka narrowed her eyes. "Fine. If you're so eager to prove yourself, let's see you handle them properly."
She led him to the sparring pits, nothing more than a rough clearing surrounded by bone stakes. Waiting there was a broad-shouldered orc nearly twice Hulk's width.
"Borzak!" Gorrka called. "Still alive, I see."
The hulking orc turned, tusks curling upward in a feral grin. "Gorrka! And who's this runt?" His gaze fell on Hulk with amused disdain. "Thought you said you brought me a warrior, not a whelp."
"Borzak's the strongest of our age, already took part in two raids against the Stonetooth Clan," Gorrka explained, then added under her breath, "Time to put you in your place, brother."
Borzak hefted a brutal spiked club, slamming it against his palm with a low growl. "Let's dance, pup."
Word spread fast. Bloodfang warriors gathered around the pit.
"That's Grond's runt?"
"Oi, he's gonna get his skull cracked…"
Hulk didn't flinch. He eyed Borzak carefully, and just as he suspected, a faint glow appeared in his vision:
[Borzak – Bloodfang Raider]
[Strength: 17 | Agility: 9 | Stamina: 14]
Stronger than him by a good margin. Hulk's stats were decent, but this was a real warrior.
He glanced at his current weapon:
[Bone Cleaver]
[Tier: Common]
[Weight: 700 lbs]
[Attack: 5-50]
[Description: Carved from the ribs of a Dire Hornbeast, crude but deadly in strong hands]
Heavy. Sloppy. Orcish.
But then a familiar blue shimmer appeared before his eyes:
[Newbie Quest triggered: Swing the Bone Cleaver 10 times to gain Basic Cleaver Mastery]
Hulk's lips curled upward. Good timing.
Borzak snarled. "Stop starin', boy, and fight!"
Hulk raised his cleaver but instead of attacking, he chuckled. "Oi, Borzak. You got a mate yet? I heard you fancy my sister."
Borzak's grip faltered for a second, his tusks grinding together. Around them, several orcs exchanged sharp glances. Gorrka's cheeks darkened with fury, but she didn't interrupt.
"W-what are you talking about?" Borzak flustered.
"C'mon. I see how you drool at the sight of her swinging that war axe. Can't blame you. She's got hips that could break a troll's back."
Borzak's club lowered slightly. Confusion mixed with desire and embarrassment warred in his thick skull.
Hulk pressed on, whispering low so only they could hear, "Ever wonder if her fur's trimmed like a boar's bristles or soft like wolf hide?"
Borzak's face twisted. Rage. Lust. Confusion.
Hulk kept casually swinging the cleaver, slowly at first, working toward his goal. By the tenth swing, the panel blinked to life:
[Quest Complete: Basic Cleaver Mastery Acquired]
His grip steadied. The weapon no longer felt like a clumsy bone club—it moved with him.
Checking again:
[Bone Cleaver]
[Attack: 15-50]
Minimum damage increased. Even a glancing blow could break ribs now.
Borzak roared to shake off the confusion, raising his club overhead with both hands. "ENOUGH TALK!"
Hulk planted his feet, eyes narrowing.
The battle could finally begin.