"Woof! Woof! Woof! Woof~"
The evil bark twisted and distorted, warped by excitement and pleasure.
Expressionless, Garen pulled himself off the tree trunk bristling with spikes. A terrifying, predatory fire gleamed in his eyes.
Thanks to his digitized body, Garen's physical form hadn't taken a single scratch.
Even as he removed himself from the cluster of spikes, not a trace of damage could be seen—neither on the skin that had been pierced through nor the brain that had been skewered. Not even the outer armor or his robes showed the slightest tear.
But Garen had no time to focus on these inexplicable phenomena.
"Damn it."
"I almost let my guard down and lost everything."
He gritted his teeth, spitting out every word like blood, and tightly gripped the massive sword gleaming in his hands.
Killing intent surged.
A regular urban youth, thrown into another world without a golden cheat, and with a 90% chance of starving to death, had somehow, in just one day, awakened the deadly aura of a battle-hardened warlord.
"Woof! Woof! Woof! Woof!"
The overly excited hellhound—an oversized toy poodle—still hadn't sensed the danger. It wagged its puffball-like tail, full of lustful enthusiasm.
It probably thought Garen had turned around just to change positions.
"A dog with a broken spine dares to bark so arrogantly in front of me?!"
Enraged, Garen raised his greatsword high above his head and roared like thunder:
"Decisive Strike!"
The sword in Garen's hands immediately burst into golden light. It was as if a warm, holy radiance had fused with the cold steel, elevating the already ornate blade into something divine.
It was an indescribable feeling.
If one had to put it into words—this was the sword of justice.
Garen, the Might of Demacia. A knight of justice, a radiant god of war.
Though this Garen was a fake, the projection of a game hero's skills into the real world still retained part of the original hero's aura.
Anyone who saw such a sword's brilliance would instinctively believe its wielder to be a noble and righteous man.
But our Garen was still a fraud.
So, with the holy sword raised high, he bellowed:
"I'm gonna bash your damn dog head in!"
Garen leapt forward and swung his blade.
The [Decisive Strike] skill granted a 30% boost to movement speed—translated into real-world terms, Garen's entire body suddenly became light and swift.
His physique was already powerful. With this buff and an attack fueled by rage, Garen's speed in that instant was astonishing.
His form moved like a thunderbolt, tearing through the air with a sound that should have been impossible for a man clad in heavy armor and wielding a massive sword.
That kind of speed was the best foundation for an overwhelming strike.
But the giant toy poodle had already reacted.
Not because it had exceptional physical abilities.
Not because Garen's attack wasn't fierce enough.
But because… Garen, like an overly theatrical anime protagonist, had shouted out his move name beforehand.
With that much warning, even a dog would know it was about to be hit.
So just as Garen's sword was about to slam down on its head, the oversized poodle kicked off the ground with all four legs and leapt to the side, dodging the strike.
Dodged?!
Even before the swing finished, Garen realized he'd made a mistake.
But once a heavy sword was set in motion, it was extremely difficult to adjust the force or direction midway.
At least for this Garen, who had zero swordsmanship skills, mid-air directional swordplay was out of the question.
But!
Just as the blade narrowly missed the toy poodle's head—something bizarre happened.
The two-handed greatsword twisted in mid-air at a perfect 90-degree angle, entirely defying physics.
It was as if Garen hadn't swung the sword—but rather, the sword itself had taken initiative.
Then, like a homing missile, the sword adjusted its trajectory and chased after the dodging poodle.
Finally—bam!—the sword slammed into the poodle's side.
Garen's weapon was a massive greatsword—broad-bladed, sharply tipped, and incredibly heavy.
When thrust straight, it was like an armor-piercing drill; when swung wide, it was more like a siege hammer.
And the massive poodle—took a direct hit from the blunt force.
Its several-ton frame warped under the impact, stumbling backward uncontrollably.
The tremendous pressure from the blow resonated through its flesh and bones, vibrating all the way into its organs.
"Whimper~"
Struggling to stay upright, the poodle's bark turned into a pained, pitiful whimper.
The lustful gleam in its eyes vanished, instantly replaced with human-like fear and dread.
It had lost its nerve.
Though its physique wasn't yet crippled, its spirit had already been crushed.
The oversized poodle closed its mouth and whimpered quietly, looking at Garen with anxious, shrinking eyes—afraid this armored juggernaut might swing again.
But Garen was fixated on the strange phenomenon that had just occurred:
His sword had clearly missed.
So how had it suddenly redirected and landed a hit?
Could it be…?
Garen recalled his digitized state, then glanced down at his sword.
Was this a directional attack?
Without hesitation, he mentally designated the giant poodle as his target once again and swung his sword—behind him.
The enemy was in front.
He swung behind him.
It was utterly ridiculous.
But the moment the blade left his hands, the heavy sword performed another 180-degree mid-air spin and again honed in on the toy poodle like a guided missile.
The poodle tried to dodge—but it was pointless.
Boom!
Another direct hit.
This time, the dog could barely stay standing.
It wanted to run.
But the intelligent poodle—far more sapient than any Earth dog—understood very clearly:
Given Garen's burst of speed earlier, it couldn't escape.
So, it continued to force itself into a weak defensive posture, whimpering softly in hopes of mercy.
But Garen couldn't care less about its movements—he was internally shouting in disbelief:
It really is a directional attack!
In games, directional attacks are abilities that always land unless countered by a specific skill.
Even basic attacks from heroes fall under this category.
And for Garen, the hero, swinging his greatsword was a basic attack.
Sounds awesome, but in games, it's just a core mechanic.
After all, you can't have a MOBA hero missing last-hits to minions due to RNG misses.
But once that mechanic is brought into the real world…
That means every swing of this heavy sword is guaranteed to hit.
As long as the target is within range, they have no choice but to block, defend, or take it head-on.
It's practically a causality-defying weapon.
"Hahaha!"
Though he was a swordsmanship noob, Garen couldn't help but laugh wildly once he realized he'd become a "guaranteed-hit swordmaster."
His laughter echoed through the woods, twisting and warping with the blowing wind into something dangerous.
At least, that's how the toy poodle felt—it shivered uncontrollably from the sound.
"Evil Dog!"
Garen pointed his sword across his chest, a wicked smile on his face.
"Kneel and beg, and I might spare your dog life."
It was an awfully sadistic line.
Garen didn't believe for a second that this poodle—famous for its unholy lust—could understand his "mercy."
Then—plop.
The poodle bent its front legs and kneeled without dignity.
"…What?"
Garen was so shocked he nearly dropped his sword.
"You… can understand me?"
He asked in disbelief.
"Woof woof…"
The poodle whimpered pitifully and even nodded its head.
"…"
Garen was stunned by the dog's intelligence.
No wonder a poodle the size of an elephant was different. Its intelligence was nearly human—it was almost ready to take human form.
But wait… he was speaking Chinese, wasn't he?
Could a dog in another world understand Chinese?
Garen couldn't wrap his head around it.
Suddenly, a cold mechanical voice rang out:
"Passive Skill Provided by System: Language Comprehension."
"The language spoken by the host will be automatically translated into the world's common tongue. The host can also understand the native language and writing system."
So that was it.
Garen finally understood:
Everything he said was automatically being translated into the local language.
And this oversized poodle was indeed intelligent enough to understand human speech.
This only made Garen more curious and excited about the world he had barely begun to explore.
The massive poodle, meanwhile, tapped into every instinct it had as a fluffy creature—doing everything it could to seem cute and pitiable.
Its gaze softened, its tail wagged upright, and it let out soft, whimpering sounds.
Somehow, this elephant-sized beast managed to mimic the charm of a domesticated puppy.
"…Damn it."
Garen felt a twinge of sympathy.
His greatsword hung suspended mid-air, no longer swinging down.
The poodle cautiously took two steps back… Garen made no move.
It took two more steps back… Still nothing.
It looked like Garen was about to let it go.
Grrrr—
His stomach growled.
The endless stamina from his digitized mode did nothing to ease his hunger.
If anything, the mismatch between his perfect physical condition and ravenous gut only made him feel hungrier.
And the poodle tried to take two more steps back—
"Stop right there!"
Garen tightened his grip on his sword. His gaze was sharp, righteous energy radiating off him:
"You vile dog of lust! Who knows how many innocents you've harmed in the past?!"
"I, the noble swordsman Garen, shall bring justice upon you today!"
(End of Chapter)