In Jaejung-hyung’s words, the Orc Chieftain is—
“A rock-bodied mad dog.”
And right now, everyone is feeling that in their bones.
“Hey! Hold it! It’s breaking left!”
“Reserves, what are you doing! Protect the mages! They’re getting wiped!”
The formation had collapsed long ago; we were five minutes from total chaos—no, already there. Even the so-called aggro you talk about in RPGs isn’t sticking. Actually, we can’t make it stick. I’m not even sure the concept applies.
The opening was fine.
Shield tanks from Teams 1 and 2 took their proper spots; Teams 3, 4, and 5 slotted in left and right by the book—looked like a stable raid.
But just like Jaejung-hyung said, it’s a mad dog. With zero warning it blitzed straight through, out of the shield tanks’ control range, dove into the archers and mages. The reserves rushed to intercept, but in that instant two mages and one archer just… evaporated.
The ranged DPS kept their focus on landing shots on the Chieftain from where they stood, and when it actually jumped them they barely dodged—three went down cold.
Archers, with their higher AGI, managed to scrape by. The mages got a quick taste of hell. What does it feel like to be punched until you die by a giant fist? Something you’d rather never experience again.
Luckily, Charming moved smart and slipped away in advance. The archer and mage in our Party 5 were competent enough to prioritize escaping the Chieftain cleanly and survived.
“Damage report?”
“Another mage got clipped.”
Attack’s face twisted. Ten melee on point, and yet it bull-rushed, slipped the gap, and hunted the casters and bows. We’re learning the hard way that ten isn’t enough.
“If it’s like this from the start, we’re not clearing. Tell the shield DPS to stick closer, and have the reserves move up too. If it keeps slipping out like this, we get nothing done.”
Attack glared at the wild-eyed Chieftain, frustration bleeding through.
“That muscle-pig bastard… how is it that fast.”
The blue-cropped man beside him shook his head.
“That won’t work either. Until roar time, we have to hold like this. If you push them closer now, we panic as a group.”
“Ah… damn it.”
Attack kicked the ground for no reason, eyes still nailed to the Chieftain.
“General-hyung. Then not everyone—just send in half the reserves. Yeah? At this rate we’ve got nothing. We need to survive right now to have a later. We lose a few more mages and we’ll have to call it for lack of DPS anyway.”
The man they called General wore a thinking look for a beat, then nodded. He felt, as keenly as anyone, that the current trajectory meant nothing.
Attack is the team’s head on paper, but their dynamic is odd. General is the axis; Attack is more the shock-troop captain, and important calls get run by General.
“To all party leads: peel off half your reserves and commit now. Plug the gaps and keep the Chieftain from running wild.”
The message went out to each party lead.
Shield Warrior heard it and relayed to our reserves immediately. No time for chatter; we just answered with nods.
PrettyGirl and Myungchang exchanged a look.
“Me?”
“I’ll go first. Cover the back.”
Myungchang clenched his long spear in both hands and sprinted off. Not a speck of hesitation. PrettyGirl watched him go without a word, then refocused on the Chieftain.
***
It’s wilder than I expected.
That’s my takeaway after tangling with it. The movement speed is insane. I don’t know its AGI stat, but it’s definitely higher than our archers’. I can read the motion, but my own speed isn’t enough—I get left behind.
“Shield Warrior, I think we have to narrow our cover.”
We’d just suffered for it—Chieftain slipped through space we didn’t cover and we had to chase it down like idiots.
“If we stick closer, we won’t be able to keep up. I’m barely holding as is.”
Shield Warrior’s AGI isn’t high. He’s having a worse time than me. Too tight, and when the Chieftain breaks away you can’t chase. You have to factor in turn recovery too.
It’s like soccer—man-marking some nut with crazy footwork and pace, only to get broken by a single turn. Better to give a half-step and deny entry, keep it out of the lane. Especially against something that wants to cut the throats of our mages and archers.
“Then let’s not block in a single file—what if we set a straight line? You step up and I’ll cover behind.”
“With me up here too, that worry’s gone.”
At some point Myungchang had closed in, planting his spear forward, taking a position. Blank, steady expression. Red straight hair snapping.
With a third body, the problem we were chewing on eases—we have less to cover.
“From watching at range, it looks tuned to target ranged first. When melee closes, it’ll eat a few hits but charges to shove them out and still tries to reach the backline. If it lands that attack, it calms again. I noticed two or three pattern shifts in between, as well.”
Myungchang spoke without a quiver. Sure, it lined up with what I’d heard from Jaejung-hyung, but I didn’t show it. If he got that just by watching… good eye. I have the cheat sheet; he doesn’t.
“Okay—Shield Warrior, step in more. Our job is to pound it when it tries to slip out. Incoming!”
No sooner said than done: the Chieftain, after smacking a melee elsewhere, switched lines and charged us.
“Stop. Right there.”
Shield Warrior bellowed and met the rush with his shield—barely enough. He got blown back; unavoidable. Myungchang and I slipped in behind.
The Chieftain swatted Myungchang’s forward thrust aside with one hand and tried to dart past me.
Getting ignored, huh?
I stuck to its flank and crossed my twin blades at its neck—schk, schk. Felt good in the hands, but who knows how much damage landed. A stagger would be nice. Maybe this kind of raid boss just shrugs that off?
But then I saw it.
Huh? For the briefest instant…
The tiniest hitch—a buffering hiccup in a smooth reel.
It does work. But the Chieftain’s defense is so high the effect is microscopic.
Still, the charge broke. Shield Warrior and Myungchang latched on again. Our surround re-formed.
And I saw it—the Chieftain’s gaze flick to me.
***
We scrapped for a long while—Chieftain charging and breaking through, us blocking and corralling. After who knows how many clashes, the Chieftain, far off, drew in a massive breath and let it all out at once.
“Krwooooaar!”
“Roar!”
The guttural rumble at my ear—and the inevitable stiffen. It’s like all sensation vanishes for a heartbeat. So this is stiffen. Not being able to move at will is infuriating.
Whether it understood that or not, the Chieftain’s iron fists came in swinging. Take one clean and you retire.
Lucky or unlucky, I was off-line. Others weren’t—several dropped instantly.
At the same time, the reserve melee rushed in across the field to save whoever they could.
I spotted PrettyGirl sprinting at the Chieftain, greatsword raised high, charging without fear like a gust.
Among the women here, none carry a blade that size and rush the Chieftain. A rare sight. So out of place it inspires a strange awe.
All I can do is watch; I can’t move.
Flinch.
Watching her, I reflexively tried to follow—and though I should have been frozen, I felt a little give.
Why can I move?
Roar stiffen is supposed to last about eight seconds. It hadn’t been long, but it felt like it was loosening already. Like being hauled up out of a bottomless pit. Maybe four seconds?
Around me, nearby melee still couldn’t move. Is this a bug? Why me and not them?
High RTP? No, that’s not it… The answer came from an odd angle: pain index from external hits.
If the roar registers as pain, sensation returns. Pain can break the stiffen.
This… might get me punished as an exploit. But QA swore the system had no issues like that, so probably not.
For now I pretended to still be stiffened.
With a moment to breathe, I checked the field. The backline guards—Attack and General—were already in the thick of it, trading steel with the Chieftain.
Then the next roar.
I drew my blade across the top of my forearm—a hard cut.
Will this work? Call it a hunch—no certainty the system models it—but it feels like it should.
HP plunged the instant I cut, but the stiffen broke almost immediately.
It works. It works. I was sure. My pain tolerance is high, so it’s uncomfortable but manageable. Others might need to cut deeper.
Melee still inside roar range stayed frozen, and the standby squads threw themselves in, pulling aggro to keep the statues alive.
Even so, the Chieftain strolled through and massacred frozen players. If the programming says “ignore minor hits within tolerance, target designated victims,” there’s nothing players can do. You can’t stop it.
Maybe that other team’s strat—dragging frozen players out of range—was the better call.
“This looks hopeless.”
Shield Warrior muttered it, a shade low, but I heard him fine.
Players were melting. Attack and General were doing everything in their power, but the plan wasn’t working and baseline specs were too low. I’d had some hope, but I felt the same. The board state was trash.
“Sure looks that way.”
Honestly, the Chieftain’s rushes aren’t that costly if the ranged play smart. If they just keep cutting out of its line of sight and straight-line chase, you can smooth it over.
The problem is the roar windows. No matter how good you are, if you get caught you’re auto-load into a coffin. Look—anyone under 12 is just dissolving. That’s beyond anything Attack or General can fix.
We still have choices… but which?
***
“What a waste.”
Shield Warrior sighed, staring up at the dreary sky—thunder-soaked ash-gray clouds billowing by.
“Really is.”
Charming wore a similar look, with a thin, rueful smile.
“If only we’d done better…”
PrettyGirl lifted and lowered her greatsword from the ground, scowling at nothing in particular.
“Good work, everyone. Let’s call it a learning run.”
“But still…”
PrettyGirl couldn’t let it go; her face wouldn’t smooth out.
Everyone had performed better than expected—beyond that, even. They didn’t lose an inch to the 12s.
But the strategy didn’t land, and the raid team’s levels and baseline ability weren’t enough to break the Chieftain. The party comp should have assumed 12+ from the start; as it was, the glaive phase just shackled us. Once the formation shattered, we never really rebuilt it.
Separately, Charming, PrettyGirl, and Shield Warrior fought to the end, but potion limits are real. In the final stretch it was our party plus Attack and General. That says it all.
“But why didn’t you come out at the end? It looked unwinnable.”
Charming asked it like it had just occurred to her.
Attack, General, PrettyGirl, and Shield Warrior went down. Charming and I survived, but our potions were gone; she eventually retired too.
So when I didn’t exit for a long while after that, curiosity set in.
PrettyGirl and Shield Warrior turned their heads to look at me too. Not expectant—just curious.
If the Chieftain dies, light is supposed to pour from the sky. That didn’t happen, so they knew I didn’t kill it.
I raised my index finger and pointed at the cloud-choked sky.
“How about… we make that sky open up, just once?”