Chapter 56 | I, the Ogre

“Another new day.”

The sunlight pierced through the rosy clouds, waking Ogre from his closed-eye meditation.

Although this was not his first time admiring the rising sun, he could still feel the sheer beauty of nature in it.

In fact, the purple glow of dawn appeared every day, but few people had the time to appreciate it.

“The wax and oil should be fully mixed and solidified by now.”

Rising from the Devil-Claw Eagle's nest, Ogre looked at the disguise materials he had prepared after letting them sit overnight.

With limited conditions, he could only make do.

The disguise identity Ogre was preparing this time was rather special; it didn't require any major cosmetic alterations.

“I should grab something to eat first.” Having meditated all night after his workout, his stomach was naturally growling with hunger.

Since his disguise materials were makeshift, Ogre made do with his breakfast as well, sourcing ingredients on the spot.

He planned to eat the Devil-Claw Eagle eggs and bird wings directly.

The near-winter weather made storing food in the wild very easy.

Gathering some dry firewood, Ogre also dragged the Devil-Claw Eagle's nest over—this thing was perfect for starting a fire on the spot.

Aside from not providing utensils, the Devil-Claw Eagle had really prepared everything it possibly could, making Ogre feel rather embarrassed.

As electrical currents sparkled at his fingertips, a fire was quickly lit.

The rising smoke could ward off some beasts, but it would also attract some magical beasts.

To survive in the jungle, the first thing one had to learn was how to conceal one's tracks; making smokeless charcoal was the very first survival skill Ogre's father had taught him.

Now, with his strength steadily growing, Ogre no longer had any use for this skill.

He had long since earned the right to light fires, no longer worried about smoke exposing his tracks—this was the confidence born of possessing true power.

With Ogre's strength, which was infinitely close to that of a Professional, there was almost nothing that could threaten him on the outskirts of the Forest of Monsters and the mountains—and even if he couldn't win, he could still run.

“What a shame, though...”

Cracking open the roasted bird eggs, Ogre pulled out his personal notebook once more—he felt that the greatest regret of this escape was this notebook, which had been soaked and ruined by water.

Staring at the useless, unsalvageable notebook, Ogre muttered, “Forget it, the contents aren't of much use anymore anyway...”

He sighed and threw it into the fire, treating this as a farewell to his past.

No matter how clever one's plans were, there would always be imperfect spots... But he would never give up even a sliver of hope to resurrect his father.

“If only I had a spatial item.” Ogre thought of the ring on Folke's finger.

It had to be said that when Folke was around, things had indeed been more than just a little convenient.

After finishing his hastily prepared meal, Ogre cleaned up the traces of his presence, tied his bundle to his spear, and left the cliff.

...

“Burn her to death!”

In the small village, a rare crowd of villagers had gathered.

In an era with scarce entertainment, any uncommon occurrence in daily life would draw people's attention.

The guards of the Church of Dawn maintained order in the village, but they did not stop the enthusiastic shouting of the crowd.

To them—this was completely normal.

And the focal point of all these villagers was actually just a young girl tied to a wooden stake.

“The sinner, Munado, has violated imperial law, harbored variants, and concocted and consumed forbidden elixirs. Her crimes are unforgivable! At the break of dawn, she shall be executed by purifying fire!”

Following the white-robed Cleric's declaration, the villagers' cheers reached a crescendo.

“Burn this witch to death!”

“Harboring variants, she deserves it! Burn her!”

The crowd's cries had unconsciously devolved into a frenzy. Many did not originally feel so strongly, but swept up in the enthusiasm of those around them, they too began shouting, “Burn her to death!”

Perhaps, there was no lack of young children among them who had no idea what forbidden elixirs were, nor did they understand why such things were prohibited.

They simply joined the revelry with those around them, as if participating in some sort of festival.

The torches neared.

Yet the girl on the pillar showed no fear—she merely curled her lips in disdain, as if laughing at the ignorance of the world.

“Munado, do you plead guilty?” the white-robed Cleric asked as a matter of routine.

Although this formality served no real purpose, it did not stop them from executing it.

In the words of the Church of Dawn's scripture—all living souls have the right to speak.

“I was born free, hahaha! And so I shall remain in death! Cages and lies cannot bind me, you pathetic mortals... Has your god ever looked down and answered you?!”

The witch's manic laughter contrasted sharply with her heavily bruised and scarred body.

“Unrepentant! Sinner, you do not deserve true purification!”

A hint of anger unconsciously slipped into the white-robed Cleric's otherwise gentle voice. He was not angry at the witch's attitude, but rather her blasphemy against the God of Dawn.

As his voice fell, the execution by fire proceeded as scheduled.

“Hahaha! You are afraid... ahahaha...”

The witch did not scream from the agony of being burned by the flames.

She just continued to laugh out loud, as if the one being executed was not her.

As the fire raged on, the witch's laughter finally faded along with her physical body, turning into ashes and soot.

‘Just a false sense of freedom. Meaningless, and changing nothing—nothing but a different form of escapism...’

In the crowd, a “Sister” carrying a basket silently made this evaluation. This “Sister” was precisely Ogre in his new disguise.

Using the badge left behind by Yade, Ogre successfully fabricated an identity with it—a Sister of Dawn from the city of Notabon.

As for why he chose to be a Sister instead of a Cleric, that was naturally because a Sister was much easier to impersonate.

To become a Cleric, one had to be a Priest, and Priests, strictly speaking, were actually a derivative branch of Mind-Imagers.

Disguising himself as a Cleric was far too easy to expose.

Disguising himself as a mute Sister was much simpler.

Equipped with the badge, all he needed to do was forge some documents to get by.

As for whether he would be found out, he certainly would.

But so what? This was only a temporary identity anyway, and Ogre didn't intend to stay here for long.

A legitimate identity would allow him to reintegrate into human society in a different way, and that was enough.

The false gender also made it easier for Ogre to hide himself. This bit of dressing up was not enough to make him feel ashamed.

“Sister Gelin, your experience is indeed regrettable... If you don't mind, you may stay with us for a while until the Church verifies your identity and assigns you a new Knight partner.”

The white-robed Cleric walked up to Ogre after the execution by fire was complete.

The excuse Ogre gave was that his accompanying Knight had taken “her” through the forest to save time, but unfortunately encountered ogre raiders along the way... In order to protect “her,” the Knight stayed behind to hold them off and died in the Forest of Monsters.

Meanwhile, “she” had only managed to escape the forest through sheer luck.

In fact, “she” was indeed found and “rescued” by several adventurers; when Ogre was found, “she” was still being chased by goblins, which greatly added to the credibility.

As for how they communicated, Ogre cleverly made use of sign language and writing to create an advantage for himself.

In the early days, to avoid revealing any accent when interacting with humans, his father had also learned basic sign language, only stopping once he became more and more fluent in speaking.

Thus, Ogre naturally knew some simple sign language as well.

As for where the women's clothing came from... Well, there actually happened to be some in the goblin nest. After rummaging around, Ogre had managed to find a tattered Sister's habit. This was what had sparked his idea of using a fake identity as a Sister.

“Ngh, ah...”

Ogre squeezed out some sounds like a semi-mute person, then used simple sign language and a nod to express his agreement.

The city of Notabon was not completely on the other side of the forest, but it was roughly at a cornering distance. To verify his identity, it would take at least a week to make the round trip.

“Macar, I will trouble you to look after Lady Gelin's living arrangements during this period,” the white-robed Cleric said to the accompanying Knight beside him.