Chapter 21 | I, the Ogre

After deciding on the adventuring band's name and completing the registration, everyone went back to attend to their own business and preparations.

The next morning, the group gathered for the second time. Most of their outfits had not changed much.

Only Serandic showed a significant change; he had put on a relatively formal apprentice-level light armor that he bought yesterday.

As for Ogre's attire, there was nothing noticeable on the surface, but he had added quite a few hidden gadgets underneath.

This time, Ogre had not only retrieved his modified rope bracer but had also brought along some 'secret weapons.'

It was not that Ogre cared deeply about this adventure; he was just extremely concerned about keeping his own small life.

It had to be said that the modified bracer indeed satisfied Ogre. It not only retained the convenient quick-rebound clasp on the rope but also added an automatic retraction feature.

The dwarf artisan mentioned that a mechanical trigger utilizing metal deformation for rebounding had been installed inside; twisting the end of the bracer would lock the retraction mechanism in place.

Regardless, Ogre did not quite understand it, but he felt that his gold coins had not been wasted.

“Ogre, what are you eating?” Folke asked, somewhat surprised.

Ogre bit into the sour, green fruit he was eating, then tossed one over to Folke.

“I just went to the forest to test out my newly purchased weapons and picked some wild fruit along the way.” After tossing the fruit, Ogre took a hard bite and explained its origin while chewing.

Seeing Ogre eat it so effortlessly, Folke did not mind. He wiped it off, put it in his mouth, and took a bite. The moment he bit down, his pupils contracted violently as if struck by an earthquake.

He then put down the fruit expressionlessly.

“The wild fruit in the forest tastes a bit bad, but its nutritional value is genuinely high. Some of the monsters in this forest survive entirely on them, and they can even replenish a bit of mana.” Having finished one fruit, Ogre took another from his breast pocket to sample.

This awful-tasting fruit had been Ogre's food since childhood. For the sake of survival, he had gotten used to it after eating so many.

Supposedly, these fruits existed in the forest because the Forest of Monsters had once been the dwelling place of an elven tribe. Thus, this sour, green fruit was also known as elven green-fruit.

“Give me one too.” Seeing his young master take a bite, Lange curiously asked for one as well. It was also a gesture to ease his relations with Ogre.

Seeing this, Ogre did not stand on ceremony either. He grabbed a fruit and tossed it over.

Beside them, Serandic almost burst out laughing.

Sure enough, the moment Lange took a bite, he understood why his young master had kept silent.

“Pah, pah, pah! Why is it so bitter? This is awful!”

Although Lange did not use particularly vulgar swear words, it did not mean he was extremely refined. When frustrated, his words were rather blunt.

“Hahaha!”

Beside them, Serandic finally could not hold back his laughter. The reason why a fruit with such excellent benefits had never been brought out to be cultivated on a larger scale—aside from the difficulty of growing the trees to maturity—was primarily its terrible taste.

Watching the expressionless Ogre, Folke cleared his throat. Having received a better, more refined upbringing, he did not swear out loud like Lange. After all, they had brought this upon themselves; they had clearly seen Ogre eating it.

Thus, he merely covered his mouth and cleared his throat to mask his awkwardness.

With Lange making a fool of himself, Folke's reaction did not seem as embarrassing. “Ahem. I am not quite used to this taste either. Ogre, here is the breathing technique you wanted.”

As Folke spoke, the ring on his hand glowed faintly, opening a void pocket next to his palm.

He then pulled out a relatively thin book from this void pocket, which was indeed one of Ogre's rewards.

“Let me see.” Seeing Folke produce the breathing technique, Ogre stopped what he was doing and immediately took the book.

《Lightning Forge Breathing Technique》

The name of this breathing technique was indeed very direct.

Ogre took it and flipped casually through the diagrams and key principles, knowing immediately that this book contained the real deal.

After a brief glance, he slipped it into his under-armor.

“Thank you,” Ogre expressed his gratitude without hesitation. Perhaps such a gift was not precious to those nobles, but to Ogre, it was already extremely valuable.

“I had someone purchase this from the Church of Truth according to your specifications. It was supposedly written by a Knight skilled in lightning-attributed battle qi with the assistance of a Truth Sorcerer.”

Folke swiped his hand through the air, closing the previously opened void pocket.

A void pocket opened by a spatial item could not be kept open for long, as it would make the magical runes on the item unstable. Once completely destroyed, everything stored inside would explode outward.

Generally, it was best to close the pocket within a few minutes after opening it, and wait for the same amount of time before opening it again to avoid any negative effects.

Typically, if a void pocket opened by a spatial item was obstructed by physical matter, it would also be unable to close. Alternatively, if subjected to powerful energy, it might exhibit behaviors where it could not open or close—though the greater likelihood was that it would be directly destroyed.

Even with such 'flaws,' it was still enough to evoke envy. At least, Ogre was very envious. After all, it was truly convenient; with this thing, he would no longer have to carry a small satchel around all the time.

“The font and formatting indeed look like they were printed by the Church of Truth,” Ogre agreed with a nod, then finished off the last fruit in his hand.

The speed of his chewing made one wonder if Ogre was eating some peerless delicacy.

“Even though they clearly have the means for mass printing, it has never been popularized... Sigh, if it could be spread widely so more people could become Apprentices or even Professionals, would monsters and foreign races still pose any threat to the Empire?” Folke sighed.

Things like breathing techniques could not be trained just by holding them; they required guidance.

Yet, even so, the Empire still strictly regulated the circulation of breathing technique texts on the market.

Only a tiny portion of foundational cultivation content was allowed to circulate.

This was the case with the Lightning Forge Breathing Technique Ogre received. It only contained basic content related to the Professional level; the subsequent lightning battle qi combat techniques that went with it were nowhere to be found.

The previous Withered Wood Rejuvenation Meditation Method was no different. This tier of meditation method had relatively limited stimulation on mental strength and the Mind-Image Seed. While it was considered decent among ordinary Professionals... it was incomplete.

It lacked the subsequent accompanying mental defense, mental attacks, and mind-image condensation.

Complete manuals with full sets of techniques were extraordinarily precious.

They were not only rare but also difficult to decipher—many manuals used special encryption keys; even if one obtained them, they could not be understood without a dedicated decryption key book to translate them, which very effectively prevented the manual's contents from leaking.

For commoners with low literacy rates, the path of self-study to rise and become a Professional was essentially a dead end.

They could either pin their hopes on awakening Mage talent and being taken away by the academies that recruited every year, or have decent physical talent with some Knight aptitude, which would allow them to seek refuge with the Church of Dawn as a guard, or join the military.

Among the Dawn guards, those who could be promoted to Paladins were also in the minority.

As for the mysterious Mind-Imagers, they were even harder to fathom—this profession required constant meditation and visualization, and once the 'fated connection' arrived, they would awaken. It was said that some had successfully awakened their Mind-Image Seed simply by studying and reciting the Dawn doctrines and believing in the God of Dawn.

Of course, those who went their entire lives without awakening remained the majority.

“They are probably afraid of something even more terrifying than foreign races and monsters,” Ogre said, changing the subject.

He noticed that Folke was somewhat naive in certain aspects.

But that was fine; Ogre did not like keeping company with overly devious people anyway.

“Something even more terrifying?” Folke stared blankly for a moment, unable to think of anything more frightening than the annual foreign invasions.

“Nothing. By the way, have today's missions been accepted?” Ogre asked, patting the small hammer at his waist.

“They're all sorted. Speaking of which, Ogre, where is your primary weapon?” Folke knew that Ogre did not possess a spatial item like he did.

Even Serandic had brought a short sword this time, while Ogre only carried a hammer?

“This is enough for me,” Ogre patted his ordinary-looking small hammer and said with a mischievous smile.

“Isn't that thing used for stonework and carpentry?” Lange, who was next to them, put on his helmet as he heard they were about to set off.

He had always felt that showing his face looked really cool, right until he met a certain fellow who completely lacked knightly virtue.

He did not want his handsome face targeted and 'looked after' by those monsters again; he had already lost enough face before.

“Hammers are quite useful.” Only then did Ogre notice the flashy greatsword on Lange's back.

Well, he probably knew what the other meant—he was showing off to him.

“I recall you use a spear, Ogre. If you don't have a weapon, I happen to have one right here. If you don't mind, you can have it.”

Folke reached out to open his void pocket and retrieve a weapon for Ogre. He was very thorough when it came to strengthening the squad, thinking that even the worst weapon he had prepared should be better than that broken stick from the arena.

It had to be said that having such a leader indeed brought great peace of mind; he had even anticipated weapon requirements and prepared one especially for Ogre.

Though he claimed it was just by chance, anyone with a brain knew better. He was a Mage, and his retainer Knight used a sword; why else would he have a spear ready?

From this perspective, Folke had truly put thought into this.

The boost provided by a weapon was still highly significant for a bunch of quasi-Professional Apprentices like them, accounting for at least ten to fifty percent of their combat capability.

But Ogre reached out and grasped Folke's hand as he was about to open the void pocket, shaking his head. “There's no need. I wasn't joking with you all. A hammer is indeed one of the most suitable weapons for the Forest of Monsters.”

Ogre then let go and turned his gaze to Lange. “If you don't want to drag us down, you'd better switch your weapon to a shield and a small one-handed sword too.”

“Why is that?” Lange was the first to ask.

“It doesn't matter what a Mage equips, but we are all apprentice-level melee units. Since we don't have the power to shatter boulders and split mountains with a casual blow, it's better to switch to shorter weapons. Besides, isn't your duty to protect Folke?”

Unlike these city nobles, Ogre had frequented the forest since childhood. He knew what worked and what did not.

There was a reason why a Paladin's first weapon was often a hammer.

“Well, I agree with your latter point, but isn't carrying a hammer a bit...” Lange had also realized—compared to how to slaughter, he should indeed be thinking more about how to protect Folke. It was just that Folke's previous strength had made him overlook this.

But he still could not comprehend the reason behind Ogre going into battle with just a lousy hammer.

Folke did not say anything either, merely standing aside as he waited for Ogre's explanation.

As for Serandic, he had too little actual combat experience to chime in. His weapon was also given to him by Folke after all—at the Apprentice level, no matter how strong one's fists were, the efficiency of clearing ordinary monsters was certainly inferior to a short sword.

“It's true that long weapons are always the best on a stage, but not in the Forest of Monsters. The environment is complex and ever-changing. In caves and forests, long weapons will only restrict your performance. Some trees are extremely hard. In this kind of environment, a shorter weapon is better for both you and me. Carrying such a massive sword is honestly worse than going empty-handed.”

Ogre had his own understanding of each environment.

Using a staff on a stage was undoubtedly the most convenient.

But when lining up on a battlefield, long spears that surpassed others in reach were undoubtedly the most effective. And for those Senior-level generals whose strength far exceeded ordinary soldiers, the killing efficiency of spears was clearly inferior to double-handed greatswords. Under conditions of absolute power disparity, the reaping efficiency of double-handed greatswords was far superior to other weapons.

But in caves and forest environments, it was another story entirely. Line of sight was blocked, enemies might not be tightly packed, and when facing agile and unpredictable foes, short-to-medium-range weapons were the optimal choice.

Of course, if you could destroy the environment with a casual swing, then whatever you used would naturally be up to you.

“Then why not use axes, short swords, or daggers?” Lange primarily felt that Ogre's hammer was indeed a bit ugly.

“You can carry a short sword to increase skinning and chopping efficiency, but an axe is unnecessary. In battle, I still lean toward blunt weapons.

“This is because sharp weapons can easily get stuck in the bones of certain monsters during combat, or lose their edge after being corroded by their blood.

“When you encounter a swarm of goblins rushing at you, you'll find that there are very few weapons more useful than a hammer.”

Ogre explained slowly. He needed to describe the scenarios briefly to completely convince everyone.

This was something even Folke's uncle had not considered.

After all, when these family Professionals with background left their training, they were already at the Professional tier and had weapons they were well-accustomed to.

For powerful Professionals, forcing a weapon change was indeed inferior to continuing with what they were accustomed to using daily.

“Look at this end of mine; one swing is absolutely enough to shatter a goblin's skull. For certain missions that require the fur to be preserved intact, a strike to their head with this end ensures better integrity.”

Ogre said, pointing to the awl-like end of his small hammerhead.

As for the normal hammer end, it was used to strike armored targets; some elite, intelligent goblins would choose to wear armor to increase their strength.

These were all experiences he had garnered from hunt after hunt.

“Alright, indeed, I was negligent,” Folke said. He was generally quite reasonable, as long as you could convince him.

“How about... you get me a hammer too?” Serandic asked weakly.

“But I didn't bring any hammers either. Should we go buy some?” When in doubt, Folke's default solution was to buy.

Nothing resolved problems more easily than spending money.

“No need. I have a pair of gauntlets here.”

Ogre fished a pair of gauntlets from his bag and tossed them to Serandic. Compared to a hammer, this pair of iron gauntlets would better suit his skills.

Ogre had long taken this into consideration.

This pair of gauntlets was actually one Ogre had finished using himself. Even so, it had been customized to his specifications; he had even specially resized it just to bring it to his junior brother.

As for Ogre right now, he was not wearing anything on his hands—this was to make it easier to utilize his lightning abilities.

This was why Ogre had his delicate, woman-like hands exposed.

Actually, this was a rather rare circumstance for Ogre. Unless there was a special reason, he would usually wear gloves most of the time to prevent his weapons from slipping.

It was just that Folke and the others were not familiar with Ogre, which was why they had not paid it any mind.

“Your hands are quite beautiful.”

While Serandic and Lange were still changing their gear, Folke happened to notice Ogre's bare hands, which looked even more beautiful than his own well-maintained Mage hands.

“Born with them,” Ogre responded blandly. Whether his hands were beautiful or not, it would not affect his efficiency in killing monsters.

“If you were in my hometown, you might even be able to be a hand model,” Folke teased, a rare joke for him, before opening his void pocket to swap Lange's weapon.

Ogre did not know how to respond to Folke's banter, so he could only ask the others, “Is everyone ready?”

Honestly, had the team not been so amateurish, Ogre would not have thought to step up and influence Folke's decisions. After all, strictly speaking, he was merely hired muscle.

‘Shouldn't I be the one saying that?’ Folke was taken aback for a moment, but he did not make a big deal out of it. He indeed did not look as professional as Ogre in this regard.