The Mad Wolf Lugarak might be the ruler of the Floodlands, but to players, it was nothing more than a rabid mutt.
It was one of those aggravating small-fry monsters—constantly darting around, trading blows tit-for-tat, and making it a pain to land a solid hit—which earned it the scornful nickname “mutt.” The kind of beast that’d pick a fight just for locking eyes with it, like some twisted mirror of today’s society.
But the One-Eyed Lugarak? That was a different story.
According to the lore, it was a grizzled veteran, seasoned by countless battles, with attack patterns distinct from the standard Lugarak. If the regular one was a crazed street punk charging in blindly relying on raw toughness, the One-Eyed Lugarak was a boxer ruthlessly pummeling helpless civilians.
Its infamously dirty and unrelenting combos had once stirred up a storm of complaints about Hunter Land.
Of course, to a veteran player like me, even the One-Eyed version was just another lowlife thug.
It came rushing at me, but I raised my guard and deflected its attack somehow, forcing it to stagger back as if it had taken a hit.
But that was a trick—a bait pattern. It feigned catching its breath, trying to lure me into dropping my guard.
After exhaling, it’d suddenly lash out with its claws in an offbeat rhythm.
Whoosh!
I timed it perfectly, pulling my body back just as its claws sliced through the air.
After swinging its claws, it’d grip the ground, spin its body, and whip its tail around for a follow-up strike.
I rolled toward the direction of the tail, dodging as it swept past beneath me.
Everything was within my predictions.
Who’d have thought I’d end up hunting a Lugarak out of the blue like this?
Lately, I’d noticed more signs of Lugarak activity in this forest. Someone—or something—kept clawing at the trees, making an infuriating racket that was driving me up the wall. This guy was probably the culprit behind those marks.
I’d been doing my best to avoid it since dealing with it would obviously be a hassle, but here we were, face-to-face.
Still, there was a payoff—I’d finally run into some people.
They didn’t look like they were in any condition to help, though. They seemed exhausted, and I wasn’t expecting much from them anyway.
Honestly, it wasn’t surprising. Back in the game, Hunter Land NPCs would talk a big game about helping, only to stand back and watch while forcing you into solo play.
I tightened my grip on the hilt of my greatsword.
In this world, the only thing I could trust was my weapon—my greatsword.
I’d better kill—no, hunt—this mutt quickly and try talking to them.
Wait, will we even be able to understand each other?
—
“We… we’re saved…”
The hunter with the pierced stomach barely came to after some makeshift first aid.
But no one paid him any mind.
Everyone’s eyes were locked on the ferocious battle unfolding in front of them.
Noah’s hand trembled as she gripped her shield. It wasn’t out of fear or dread of what might happen next.
Just minutes ago, the Lugarak had been toying with them, but now it was being completely overwhelmed by this mysterious woman.
Her ragged clothes were tearing further under the beast’s claws, exposing more of her pale skin, but that barely registered.
Her movements were practically divine.
It was as if she could see right through every move the Lugarak was about to make.
And with that massive greatsword in hand, she relentlessly closed the distance.
Against a monster renowned for its speed and relentless onslaught, she was the one forcing an in-close fight.
Cold sweat dripped from Noah’s shaking hand.
This was exhilaration.
The thrill of witnessing a hunter with extraordinary skill.
She swung her greatsword without a care for her own injuries, driven solely by the intent to kill her enemy.
Who else could wield a greatsword—or hunt—like that?
Noah wasn’t alone in feeling this way.
All four hunters watching shared the same thought.
They couldn’t step into that fight.
Trying to help would only hinder her, so none of them dared to move.
“Incredible…”
Someone voiced what Noah wanted to say.
Her skill was staggering.
None of the hunters Noah knew fought like that—nor could they.
In her memory, the greatsword was a weapon defined by heavy, downward strikes, relying on its sheer weight.
There was a saying among hunters: gather enough strength to swing a greatsword, channel that force through your whole body, and you could stand firm against any attack without flinching.
But that was just theory.
In practice, you’d still take damage, theory or not.
And maintaining the focus to pull it off in a life-or-death situation was a whole other challenge.
The Hunter’s Guild recommended a hit-and-run style—striking with the sword’s weight and then pulling back.
For hunters with only one life to live, hit-and-run was far safer.
Charging in like your life didn’t matter was no different from suicide.
But this woman—this hunter—shattered those assumptions.
She pressed the attack aggressively, heedless of the wounds piling up on her body.
Blood splattered, gashes opened, but she didn’t care.
She wouldn’t stop until the monster in front of her was dead.
Berserker.
That was the word that fit her.
She didn’t crumple under the Lugarak’s assaults; instead, she leaned into them, blocking with her greatsword.
Every so often, a claw would graze her unprotected skin, tearing it apart, but she never wavered.
If anything, she moved faster, as if her wounds fueled her.
She stood like a wall, shielding them.
Her unyielding stance was driving the Lugarak into a corner.
“Hup!”
—
The white beast with pale pink eyes clashed once more with the black wolf radiating red light.
But the Lugarak’s attack cut through nothing but air.
The greatsword, merciless, tore into its flesh.
Even the monster’s cries no longer instilled fear in the hunters.
The roar from its jaws was now a desperate wail, heavy with the weight of looming death.
—
The greatsword means a lot to me in so many ways.
It was the first weapon that got me hooked on Hunter Land.
It didn’t have any flashy moves, but the hefty impact of each swing felt so satisfying.
Every time I swung it, I felt like I was truly facing down a monster.
The greatsword’s defining trait is its heavy attacks.
The fastest way to fight is to just hit a few times and pull back, but honestly, other weapons could do that too.
It’s beginner-friendly but gets repetitive and dull.
That’s why I use the guard technique—parrying.
I watched the Lugarak’s claw swipe and raised my greatsword vertically.
Clang!
The claw grazed the flat of the blade, sparking as it was deflected sideways.
The Lugarak’s body lurched forward. I struck it hard in that opening.
Parrying shows up in plenty of games, but perfectly timing it to disrupt an enemy’s attack flow is a downright fantastical skill.
Thankfully, it worked with the greatsword too.
When I first gripped it, the unfamiliar weight threw me off for a moment, but I got the hang of it fast.
My mind already knew how to handle the situation, and my body had the ability to pull it off.
“Hup!”
—
The beast howled in agony.
I wasn’t unscathed either.
“Haa, haa…”
Without armor, even a glancing blow from its claws felt like my skin was being flayed.
This was my first time fighting a high-level monster.
No matter how much I parried or dodged, the lack of proper gear left my body covered in cuts and bruises.
My already ragged clothes were falling apart even more under the Lugarak’s attacks, barely hanging on.
If these rip off completely, I’ll be naked. Fighting like this makes me feel like some hardcore veteran.
It was my own fault for trying to solo it with no equipment.
Parrying’s a solid technique, but in a slugfest like this, minor injuries were unavoidable.
Seriously, no one’s helping? That’s cold.
Time to finish this.
The Lugarak whimpered, twitching on the ground.
Even so, it thrashed around, refusing to go down quietly.
It was in a groggy state—its leg hide torn, claws shattered.
When a monster takes a heavy hit like that, it acts like this for a bit.
Like a person writhing in unbearable pain, unable to move.
It wouldn’t be able to act for a moment.
This was the perfect chance to pile on damage, and the greatsword was made for it.
The greatsword’s basic attack chain is straightforward.
The horizontal swing is just a probing move.
It’s for jabbing at the monster while reading its patterns. Sure, there are variations, but the real thrill of the greatsword comes from its charged strong attacks.
Each stance has its own name.
A downward strike is “Decapitation,” a horizontal slash is “Execution,” and a big upward swing in a circular arc is “Full Moon Slash.”
I stomped the ground hard, planting my feet and twisting my body.
The Lugarak still hadn’t recovered.
I gathered all my strength and swung with full force before light returned to its eyes.
With the enemy immobile and me free to attack, there was only one option.
I unleashed all the power I’d built up in a single motion.
Gripping the hilt tight, I swung the sword in a wide arc from bottom to top.
The blade scraped the ground before rising to smash into the Lugarak’s jaw.
Full Moon Slash.
Boom!
A clean, devastating blow!
Tooth fragments scattered.
A wave of satisfaction and exhilaration surged through me.
Landing a massive, well-timed hit square on a monster’s jaw felt like it cleared out all my stress.
Doing it in person—not just with a keyboard and mouse—made it hit even harder.
Fighting a monster up close like this set my heart pounding.
On the flip side, its huge body, teeth, and claws were terrifying… though saying that after smashing them all feels a bit ridiculous.
Still, the excitement far outweighed the fear.
I really do love being a hunter.
The Lugarak was completely knocked out.
Its jaw took the hit, and it slumped lifelessly—it had to be dead.
Thanks to the hunters having worn it down earlier, it went down fast.
Honestly, the One-Eyed Lugarak was a pain in the game, but fighting it in reality was a pretty fun experience.
Though being drenched in blood—mine and the monster’s—wasn’t pleasant. The stench was awful.
“Ugh…”
Maybe it was the tension fading, but now that the fight was over, the pain slammed into me like a truck.
The wind made it sting even worse.
I bit my lip, enduring the agony.
I’d love to skin the corpse as a trophy, but I didn’t have the tools.
I did have a stone I’d sharpened for skinning back at the cave, but I’d left it behind.
Why’s everyone so quiet?
I looked up at the people.
One was lying injured, and the other three were standing there, staring blankly.
They were all watching me.
“Um, it’s over.”
“Ah, uh…”
“…Hello?”
Come on, say something properly.
Are we really not able to communicate?
—
