Re:Crafting in Another World
Chapter 89: Orc XII - Moonlight Creatures

Chapter 89: Orc XII - Moonlight Creatures

The forest was alive with a tension so thick it made even the air feel like glass—fragile and ready to shatter. The refelctions of Lunamarite spilled through the gaps in the high canopy above, painting the mossy earth in eerie blue. The chirps of nocturnal birds had long vanished. Now, only the low growls of a predator echoed between the towering trees.

"Shh!" Velara hissed, dragging Rilith behind a twisted root covered in glowing moss. Her breathing was ragged, her wings torn and bloodied. "It’s still close."

Rilith’s eyes widened. Her usual playful, seductive air was gone. "How? We’ve masked our presence with magic!"

"It’s not working. This forest... it’s different."

The ground vibrated.

The two-headed Tygros sniffed the air just meters away, both feline heads sweeping from side to side. Its black-and-blue fur shimmered like smoke, thick and matted, hiding muscles as dense as iron. Four legs padded with terrifying grace across the underbrush, each movement calculated. Each head snarled with rows of dagger-like teeth, stained with the blood of whatever it last devoured.

Rilith clutched Velara’s arm. "Where’s Ka’ra?"

"I don’t know!" Velara’s voice cracked. "Last I saw her, she fainted. That roar... it wasn’t normal. It—it broke her will."

Rilith’s voice trembled. "This is impossible. We’re succubi—top class in this world. We’ve crushed many creatures back in the forest. And now... we’re hiding?! From a simple monster!"

Velara grimaced. "This isn’t a normal forest. Shennong built this place. You felt it, didn’t you? The trees, the creatures, even the soil—it’s alive. It hates us. It hates everything beside Shennong."

"How is any human going to survive when this dungeon opens?" Rilith whispered.

Velara looked away. Her lips curled into a bitter smile. "They won’t. That’s the point. I think Shennong is going to kill everything that enters here."

A long silence passed before Rilith finally asked the question hanging between them. "He wouldn’t... let us die, would he?"

Velara gave her a side glance, her eyes glinting under the moonlight. "You know Shennong. He might."

"...Then what about Lady Yenissa?"

"Don’t even think of calling her," Velara snapped. "That woman? She’ll say we deserve this for underestimating the forest. She won’t lift a finger."

They crouched low, silence stretching as the Tygros crept further into the trees, distracted by some movement in the distance.

"We make a break for the exit," Rilith whispered. "Circle back to the outer boundary. If we get to the border, we can slip into the normal forest. Regroup."

Velara nodded. "We move together. No flying—it’ll hear the wingbeats. Just run."

Covered in damp earth and broken pride, they crept away, step by silent step.

But the Moonlight Tygros was no ordinary beast. Its left head rose and turned unnaturally, sniffing. And it felt it—the vibration—the minuscule movement from the succubi trying to escape. It let out a terrifying screech, high-pitched and guttural, then launched.

It crashed through trees like they were nothing but brittle matchsticks. Bark and debris exploded. The earth shook.

Rilith screamed. "RUN!"

The beast gained ground with each thunderous step.

Velara looked back, eyes wide. "We’re not going to make it!"

But then—

A roar echoed through the forest.

Not from the Tygros.

A blur of blood-stained green and black bolted from the right, slamming into the beast’s path with unrelenting force.

"K-Ka’ra?" Rilith gasped.

A lone orc woman stood in the clearing, her body covered in wounds that bled freely down her muscled arms and cracked armor. Her eyes blazed with primal rage, and her lips moved in a whisper—over and over.

"I had to get bitten. I had to get bitten. I had to."

Her right arm hung uselessly, gushing crimson, and yet... she stood. Her presence shook the air.

"She’s gone mad..." Velara murmured.

"No," Rilith said, stunned. "That’s orc rage. She’s... letting it consume her. Remember Shennong told us about this!"

Ka’ra stepped forward, dragging her foot, teeth clenched.

"I’m your opponent now," she growled. "Come on then, you furry bastard."

Both heads of the Tygros focused on her. The beast hesitated—not from fear, but from curiosity. Then, it lunged, jaws open, both mouths aiming to rip her apart.

Ka’ra caught its teeth.

Blood burst from her palms. Bones cracked. But she didn’t scream.

She held the jaws, screaming with effort. "YOU—DON’T—SCARE—ME!"

With a twist of her body and a primal bellow, she snapped one of the left head’s fangs. The price: her hand, severed cleanly by the pressure.

She stumbled, fell to her knees, but her eyes were still burning.

Velara screamed. "Ka’ra!"

Ka’ra stood again, this time wobbling, and then dashed forward. With a fierce war cry, she launched a flying kick into the beast’s lower jaw, knocking it back a full five meters.

The Tygros crashed into a tree, stunned for just a second.

Ka’ra fell forward, gasping.

"I... I did it..."

But she couldn’t celebrate for long because the Tygros got up.

Its roar shook the canopy.

But this time, it wasn’t alone.

"What are we even doing? She is much less powerful than us...but she is still fighting!"

"This is shameful!"

Rilith and Velara surged forward.

"Together!" Rilith shouted, her hands alight with infernal magic, which was not as powerfulas the flames of spirits but still packed some power.

Velara launched a volley of shadowy arrows, her wings finally spreading. "Let’s finish this!"

The battle became a blur of fire, shadow, and blood. Ka’ra, with only one arm, still fought like a beast herself—biting, headbutting, kicking. Rilith danced with flames. Velara weaved illusions and tore at the Tygros’ senses using their pheremones.

Hours passed.

Finally, the beast fell. Its heads hit the ground with a deafening thud.

The Moonlight Forest went silent again.

They stood, panting, broken, and bleeding.

Ka’ra’s arm was gone.

Velara fell to her knees.

Rilith collapsed backward, her body steaming from exhaustion.

And from behind the trees, the forest parted... revealing a man.

Shennong.

He walked calmly, as if the chaos meant nothing to him, and crouched near Ka’ra’s severed hand, still twitching slightly.

"You did well," he said, gently lifting it. "An upper B-rank. Only slightly above your level, Ka’ra."

Ka’ra’s eyes widened in horror. "Slightly...?"

Her spirit wavered. Was this the gap?

She trembled—not in pain, but despair.

On the other hand Yenissa looked over to Rilith and Velara, frowning. "That was a shameful display. Even lesser succubi should’ve done better."

Velara winced. "We underestimated it..."

"And paid the price," Rilith added, bowing her head.

Behind them, Romina peeked out from a hiding spot, shaking. She had not even joined the fight—couldn’t. The moment they’d entered the forest, she’d felt only one thing: certain death.

Shennong turned to Ka’ra again.

"I’ll give this to Yenissa," he said, holding her hand. "She’ll keep it safe. We’ll find a way to reattach it."

Ka’ra nodded weakly.

"You did well."

Then, a pause.

"But you should know... your future lies here."

Ka’ra’s eyes sharpened. "What do you mean?"

"I will open this dungeon to the world. Humans, ant monster that is intreseted—they’ll come. But you... you have a choice. If you want to leave, return to your tribe tomorrow, I won’t stop you."

He stood tall, shadows dancing around him. "But next time we meet, we might be enemies."

Ka’ra said nothing for a long time. She looked at her missing arm, then at her sisters-in-battle. Rilith, who saved her. Velara, who stayed by her side. Then at the forest—its ancient, dangerous energy. And finally... at Shennong.

A man who could make her stronger. A man who terrified her.

Not because of cruelty, but because of what he offered—a purpose.

Her tribe... would be dragged into something far greater if she chose to stay.

Could she decide that for them?

Ka’ra looked up, blood running down her cheek, and whispered, "I’ll take my decision,"

Meanwhile, Ukar was marching with his orc army toward the nearest human town. They had no plans—no sneaky attacks like the ones Ka’ra had devised. Their only option was to fight head-on, just as their ancestors had.

Then, they would seize women, men, and children for their tribe. That was the orcaine way.

The sky had darkened unnaturally, thick clouds rolling in as if summoned by the fury of their march. Drums beat like war-thunder across the plains, each deep thrum echoing across the empty earth. Hundreds of orcs marched in sync, blackened iron armor clinking, heavy boots stomping deep into the dirt. War banners flapped in the wind—tattered cloth dyed with the blood sigils of the fallen.

Ukar walked at the front, towering over the others, his jagged axe slung over his shoulder. His eyes gleamed with savage certainty. Around him strode war-beasts chained and muzzled, straining against their bonds, their snarls promising ruin.

Smoke curled from the burning torches carried by bone-armored orc shaman, who chanted guttural blessings to the old spirits and ancestors. The stench of blood and sweat hung in the air. Behind them, the earth itself seemed to tremble.

In the distance, the town’s watchtowers came into view—still unaware of the storm barreling toward them.

Ukar raised his axe to the sky.

"Tonight," he roared, his voice booming across the field, "we bring fresh meat!"

The horde let out a thunderous cry, half war chant, half howl of madness.

And the march continued, steady and unstoppable, until the human gates loomed just beyond the final ridge.

The storm had arrived.

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