Chapter 61 | I, the Ogre

“I'll go.”

Looking at Ogre's outfit, even Mima started to feel that the clothes she had bought were too flashy.

But she knew that was an illusion—when someone was beautiful, they looked good in anything.

‘If the girl who caused the Trojan War looked like this, it wouldn't be surprising at all. Even the legendary succubi wouldn't compare.’

Mima praised and lamented in her heart.

Praising her beauty, yet lamenting her status.

When extraordinary beauty fell upon an ordinary person, it was often not a blessing, but a disaster, just like obtaining a treasure that did not belong to them.

“Aunt Mima,” Macar said, a smile appearing on his face as he watched the door open for the third time. “Is Lady Gelin doing well?”

What Macar felt for Gelin was actually mostly pity.

After all, back then, Ogre had been disguised—Ogre, with his altered face shape, hadn't been nearly as alluring.

“Sister Gelin is doing very well. Hand the things over to me,” Mima said as she enthusiastically took the basket from Macar's hands.

Macar didn't think much of it and handed the basket over; after all, she was his aunt.

As an orphan, Mima was his closest relative after his uncle's passing.

“Alright, Little Car, you can go eat now,” Mima said before shutting the door once more.

“Huh?!”

Macar stared blankly at the door that had now opened and closed three times, feeling that something was not quite right...

Wait...

Why was he suddenly getting treated like a nuisance?

For a moment, he felt like he was being swept right out the door.

‘Could it be that Lady Gelin did something?’

Macar grumbled in his heart. In his mind, he was tasked with protecting Gelin, but now he couldn't even see her.

Wasn't this failing his mission?

What if something happened?

“No, I can't just let Aunt Mima have her way this time. They have absolutely no idea what that Discipline Grand Knight Badge represents... but what if there's really some other reason?”

Macar fell into a state of conflict.

...

“Maybe we shouldn't bother with a disguise after all...” Maqi felt that if she were this beautiful, she would never cover it up.

Why hide away such a pretty face?

“My dear daughter, being beautiful isn't necessarily a good thing...” Mima sighed.

“Why is that, Mom? Isn't it good to look pretty?” Maqi asked, rather puzzled.

She hadn't inherited Mima's youthful beauty, instead resembling her deceased father.

Although she wasn't ugly, she certainly couldn't be called pretty either; average was the best word to describe her.

“You silly girl, you haven't even read as many books as I have. Have you forgotten the history of the Fox-kin? It was precisely because they were beautiful that their entire race was wiped out.”

Mima began her story while carefully undoing Ogre's hair.

“The Fox-kin are a branch of the beastkin.”

“Short, cunning, and fierce—those are their traits.”

This sounded quite a bit like a certain green-skinned creature, didn't it?

That's right. Initially, the Fox-kin weren't much different from goblins. Except unlike goblins, who had many males and few females, Fox-kin were almost exclusively female.

Thus, they relied heavily on males from other races, often completely draining them dry.

Normally, this wouldn't have been a huge deal.

At most, they would just be a fox version of goblins.

But that was until a mad Warlock discovered another trait of the Fox-kin—with just three generations of hybrid backcrossing with the same creature, the Fox-kin could give birth to offspring nearly identical to that creature's bloodline.

Before long, a creature known as the fox-girl was born.

Short-lived, docile, and beautiful.

These were all characteristics of the hybrid Fox-kin. Except for their ears and tails, which betrayed their original race, they were almost indistinguishable from humans.

Once they appeared, they became highly favored by the nobility.

Consequently, the traditional Fox-kin quickly vanished...

Leaving behind only generations of enslaved hybrid fox-girls—which remained a highly sought-after commodity in the black market slave trade to this day.

This could truly be considered the extinction of their race.

It was worth mentioning that, due to the 'successful' case of the Fox-kin,

some Warlocks later tried to do the same with goblins...

However, it seemed they had failed.

‘Isn't this just made up...’

Ogre had read about the Fox-kin before, and he seemed to recall that fox-girls were created by feeding them the bodily fluids of doppelgangers...

Yes, regardless of whether they were male or female, anyone who drank it would turn into a fox-girl.

As to which version was true and which was false, Ogre wasn't entirely sure either.

He only remembered the assessment given in that popular science handbook: Fox-kin, flesh as sour as rot, not recommended for consumption, extremely low value.

“Hmph, that's just a story made up by disgusting old noblemen,” Maqi snorted in rebuttal. “Elves are so beautiful, yet they are perfectly fine, aren't they?”

‘That's because elves are powerful...’ Ogre silently countered in his heart.

Girls transformed from dragons were equally beautiful, yet they were fine as well—was it because the nobles didn't fancy them?

No, it was because they were far too dangerous.

Only a small portion of the dragon race favored humans, and even then, only brave warriors and heroes, with silver dragons making up the majority of those.

These dragons would transform into all sorts of beautiful girls to offer themselves to the heroes and mate with them.

This not only made them exceptional companions, but also powerful mounts and partners.

However, Ogre remembered that the ratio of males to females within the dragon race seemed to be 1.5 to 1. Statistically speaking, among those dragons who transformed into young girls... quite a few of them were probably male.

After all, the dragon race was famously equal-opportunity when it came to gender, and they possessed the aesthetic tastes of every single race...

To this day, not a single book dared to claim that it had cataloged every sub-dragon species.

‘In a sense, humans with dragon blood could also be considered a variant, couldn't they?’ Ogre thought to himself.

This was likely the only variant officially recognized by the Church of Dawn.

After all, aside from their lustful nature, dragon-bloods were completely controllable—unlike variants like werewolves, vampires, ghouls, and shadow demons, which either hovered between madness and cruelty, or possessed all kinds of defects.

“Don't talk back. How can the Fox-kin compare to elves?” Mima glared at Maqi.

Maqi simply stuck her tongue out playfully. “Mom, you're going to corrupt little sister Gelin if you keep talking like that.”

“Just because I don't talk about it doesn't mean these things don't exist,” Mima snorted.

Maqi looked a little wistfully as the hair she had so carefully braided was simplified into a plain hairpiece. “I just think it's better to look pretty. Don't you agree, little sister Gelin?”

“Mm...” Ogre shook his head in protest.

If he hadn't disguised himself, he would have been turned into merchandise a long time ago.

“Hmph, you guys don't understand at all how important looks are to a girl,” Maqi pouted.

‘All I know is that goblins prefer to capture the pretty ones first...’ Ogre sighed quietly in his heart.

People always romanticized and fantasized about things they couldn't have.

But in reality, behind all things beautiful, there had to be powerful strength to support them. Otherwise, those advantages would ultimately only serve as a measure of the merchandise's value.

Ogre wasn't sure which version of the fox-girl story was true.

But fox-girls in the slave market were indeed among the best-selling slaves, even more popular than those strong troll servants.

Yet no matter how well they sold, these slaves shared one common trait—the value they created did not belong to them.

“Oh, my. No matter how important it is, you'll still have to get married eventually. Maqi, look at the other girls in the village; they've all married and moved out. You're the only one who's still so playful all day. When I was your age, you were already three years old.”

Mima chided her.

She knew better than Maqi that beauty brought advantages, but she knew even better—that the benefits derived from beauty would eventually vanish along with the beauty itself.

A fleeting beauty often blinded a person to their true self.

“No way. My sweetheart must be a powerful adventurer, at least stronger than me, or else I'd rather stay single.” Maqi looked at Mima's darkening expression and finally offered a sheepish smile. “Besides, isn't this because I want to spend more time with you, Mother?”