His eyes flickered a few times as the white light slowly faded, and the wooden cabin was once again plunged into darkness.

A faint exhalation, the sound of clothes rustling, and then a figure appeared outside the cabin—it was James Carter.

The once-luxurious fur robe on his body had turned dull and gray, utterly unremarkable. The patterns on it had lost their emerald luster, now looking just like an abandoned rune stone.

As for his face, the unhealthy sallow tint and fine wrinkles caused by years of hardship had vanished, leaving his skin smooth and flawless.

His mind had become clearer than ever before, even surpassing his previous life. The persistent dull ache in his head whenever he tried to think, which had plagued him since occupying this body, was now completely gone.

This made him realize that, with the help of the mysterious emerald flames, his body had undergone a qualitative leap.

The benefits weren’t limited to his brain—his body had also improved. All his internal injuries had disappeared, his physical strength had more than doubled, and his endurance had increased even more dramatically. As long as he managed his strength wisely, alternating tension and relaxation, he would never collapse before his energy was fully depleted!

As soon as James Carter appeared outside the cabin, the orc not far away immediately stopped chewing. Its massive body spun around in an instant, as agile as a startled deer.

This must be what they call beastly instinct.

Orcs who broke away from their raiding parties to hunt alone were not uncommon in previous years. In fact, in the wild, unless human warriors had an overwhelming numerical advantage and a well-planned ambush, they could do nothing against a lone orc—at best, they could only protect themselves.

If a migrating group of civilians encountered an orc, they would have no power to resist at all.

Just imagine—a half-ton fighting machine at the peak of both strength and agility. How could frail human bodies possibly withstand it?

Now, the orc, upon seeing James Carter, immediately tossed aside the corpse in its hand and picked up its weapon—a thick wooden club.

Compared to the tender, living, and steaming fresh meal before it, the orc suddenly found what it had just eaten utterly tasteless.

It did possess some intelligence, enough to compare and desire tastier food. If it were a pure beast, it would be content just to eat its fill, caring nothing for flavor. With food in abundance, it would never even consider James Carter.

There was no bloodthirsty gleam in the orc’s eyes, only the calm before a hunt.

Orcs never underestimate their opponents. Even a lion uses its full strength to hunt a rabbit. Orcs, whose habits lean more toward beasts, naturally have this good trait.

For the orc, this battle had nothing to do with reputation or profit—it was purely a fight for survival.

Kill the prey, eat him, and turn his body into part of your own. It’s that simple!

James Carter’s weapon was just a hardwood sword.

The difference in strength between the two was obvious, and their clash was about to erupt at any moment!

This was a collision between wild, raging beast instinct and calm, precise intelligence!

Chapter 11: What a Mighty Orc (Part 2)

James Carter showed no sign of panic. The icy white light that had just faded from his eyes slowly returned, carrying a cold, commanding presence.

This white light was not purely material; it was the visible manifestation of free elements in the void being disturbed by powerful mental force, signifying that James Carter’s mind was now operating at its peak.

Legend has it that when divine beings on the continent fight, visible light radiates from their eyes—the only difference is the color.

In fact, ordinary people’s eyes also emit light, but their mental strength is too weak. The free elements stirred by the spirit leaking from their soul’s window are so few as to be negligible, so the light cannot be perceived.

Some people with slightly stronger mental power, when they glare at someone, can make others feel a flash of sharpness in their eyes—this is the same principle as what James Carter was experiencing now.

In an instant, James Carter had thoroughly analyzed every physiological weakness of the savage orc, leaving nothing out.

The orc sensed the threat, as well as the natural pressure that higher life forms exert on lower ones. This made it growl uneasily a few times, its huge hands nervously gripping the thick wooden club until it creaked, displaying immense strength.

Suddenly, James Carter took a small step forward. This immediately ignited the orc’s fighting spirit. The rampaging juggernaut let out a furious roar, the sound shaking the graveyard’s trees so violently that snow fell in showers, and the roar carried far into the distance—many people in Wildfire City heard it.

They knew exactly who the owner of that roar was.

On the city wall towers near the graveyard, several night watch guards sprang to their feet, staring out of the city in terror.

“Did you hear that?” one of the guards said, disbelief in his voice.

“It’s an orc, and a savage orc at that!”

“Who is it fighting? That’s its roar of rage!”

……

The orc suddenly leapt from the ground, churning up dirt and snow, and in almost a single bound covered nearly ten meters, displaying unmatched explosive power.