Roman's heart thundered in his chest as the massive Elder insect advanced with terrifying speed, its forelimbs clicking against the frozen ground like ancient hammers.
All around him, dozens of smaller lice swarmed, their legs skittering over the grass.
Occasionally, the wind swept some insects off course, but the Elder remained rooted like a statue—barely touched by the storm.
It didn't seem like the Elder appreciated the presence of him.
The wind whipped flakes into Roman's face, but he barely registered the cold.
All he could see was the Elder—towering,armored, its eyes glowing like embers.
The weather was worsening by the second. Under such pressure, Roman couldn't help but mutter,
"I should've listened to Aunt Amrita's advice."
It felt as if the world itself were squeezing him, pinning him to the ground. Every breath burned his lungs. His vision flickered at the edges.
"I will not die without a fight, and let this mistake be my lesson to think before going to a decision even with a strong gut feeling."
He tightened his grip around the mandible he used as a sword and took a stance
—Omega Doctrine. This one was different than the previous one.
This was calm and calculative. One way to fight insects is never be predictable and do not come near it.
And their weakness—their fragile joints. Although hard to break, but if it is broken, they were good as a handicapped person. Easy to kill.
He darted forward, planting a low kick into the Elder's one of six knee-joints.
The joint groaned under his strike, but it did not buckle. Instead, the Elder pivoted, its massive forelimb swinging down.
Roman dropped into a roll, the impact of the Elder's limb exploding snow and brown grass above him. He felt the wind knocked out of him, but he sprang up, legs coiling like springs.
He launched forward, sliding under another swipe, the cold air hissing past his ears. A smaller insect leapt at his side—Roman twisted mid-air, elbow cracking through its shell with a wet crunch. Blood of the insect sprayed across his face
[Ding! Host killed a Bison Lice. Gained +.5 EXP!]
[Talent Activated: 10,000x EXP Multiplier!]
[Received +5,000 EXP!]
Immediately, he poured the EXP into his C-Rank Talent: Origin Mana Enhancement.
"I just need one more kill to reach Tier 2... maybe then I'll stand a chance against that giant bastard."
The ground trembled as the Elder lunged again, its limbs tearing into the earth like spears.
He ducked, barely missing the blow, then twisted into a spinning kick that threw away another lice crawling up his back.
He hadn't yet fully used the mandible although previous roman would find a way to intergrade the Omega Doctrine as a sword style but it could be said He is actually defeated or crawled over by these insects before he could have an chance to use the mandible properly as a sword.
Hell with it. If this keeps going, I'll die anyway. Might as well give it a chance.
He spun, lunging into the nearest swarm.
The lice darted at him, but his blade flashed in the dim light—slice, slice, slice.
But then—
Nothing.
His chitin blade didn't even pierce their shells.
Instead, he was almost cleaved in half. Blood spilled from his limbs, chest, and legs.
He was crumbling.
His chitin blade didn't even pierce their shells.
"Shit... if only I knew how to use mana properly," he cursed. "But those books were locked behind paywalls, and I didn't have the luxury to buy them."
"Is this the end?" he wondered.
If he were given another chance, he'd become a politician, not a player thrown into this hellhole.
But to survive, he needed to fight until the very end.
He didn't need to kill them all—he just had to last long enough. Long enough for the time in this place to end so he could transfer back to the real world.
Only an hour had passed. That meant just half an hour had gone by outside.
If a normal person with 500 mana had to stay for four hours in Origin World, then with 1500 mana, Roman needed to survive for at least 12 hours.
But he knows noe if he had to survive till then he needed to level up his C ranked talent.
He swung the jagged mandible in a desperate arc, forcing back the swarm. With his blurred vision, he spotted one of the lice—its shell cracked, leaking pale fluid. It must've been injured in his last flailing attempt.
"At least killing that thing won't be bad," he muttered, voice hoarse, "even if I have to be food for these shits."
Gritting his teeth, he lunged again, ignoring the blood streaming from his limbs. He rammed the chitin blade straight into the swarm, putting himself in danger. Somehow, he managed to drive both mandibles into the weakened spot of the insect's carcass.
Crunch!
Crunch!
The lice let out a distorted screech before splitting in two.
Roman collapsed, his legs giving out beneath him as the last of his strength drained away like water through cracked stone.
His vision blurred, and the cold bit deep into his bones. Pain surged through every inch of his body—his arms, his chest, his legs—each wound screaming for medication.
Dozens of the lice swarmed him now, their grotesque legs scraping over his skin. One sank its mandibles into his thigh, another into the meat of his forearm. Blood poured freely, steaming slightly in the cold air. Roman gritted his teeth, trying not to scream.
Then, the Elder lice—the largest and most menacing of the swarm—lurched forward, its massive form casting a shadow over him.
Its eyes burned like twin embers in a dying fire as it lowered its head, jagged mandibles clicking together in anticipation. It reared back, ready to take a bite out of his exposed skull.
But Roman was fully concentrate on the transparent screen
[Ding! Host killed a Bison Lice. Gained +0.5 EXP!]
[Talent Activated: 10,000x EXP Multiplier!]
[Received +5,000 EXP!]
Immediately putting that in his C rank talent he muttered "Lets fight bastards."
Name: Roman Maximus
Trait: Origin Mana Enhancement
Rank: Tier - 2 (0/14845 Exp)
Trait: 10,000x Exp Converter
Rank: Tier - 0 (2900/10M Exp)
Mana: 1500/1800
Strength: 10 (+6)
Speed: 10 (+6)
Psych: 11 (+6)
Skills:
Basic Martial Art (Omega Doctrine)
Proficiency: Medium(10%)