A few moments ago.
[Get up! It's still alive!] Valinar ordered.
Aito didn't even bother reading her notification window and stumbled to his feet at the impossible happening in front of him. The Khül, despite its injuries, was walking towards him.
His unique skill, One Against Many, hadn't activated yet. Logically, he was facing only one opponent right now.
However, where was he? In a natural coliseum filled to the brim with orcs. There were thousands of them here.
And since he considered all of them enemies and they were within range, his unique skill should have kicked in by now.
It could only mean one thing, the challengers hadn't been able to flee far enough. Last time, he had been around half a kilometer (0.31 miles) away from his allies when One Against Many boosted his physical stats.
'Shit, the orcs must be hindering their retreat,' he pondered, thinking about a solution to this problem.
"To most, the Khül looked like a monster with overwhelming strength and a power level that shouldn't exist in the Tower. A crazed orc who, to some, was an ancestor and others their doom. But to me, all I saw was a pitiful being condemned by the gods to err the Tower for all eternity. A being neither dead nor alive, craving to know who he really was. *Sigh*, fear not for one day they will pay for what they did to you, old friend."
Extract from, "Yggdrasil Chronicles, The Woodcutter of Iris," by Roan the Merchant.