Chapter 36: The Old Ogre

Ogres are enormous, hideous, and voracious creatures. They prey upon the weak and are accustomed to resolving problems through violence. An adult ogre stands nearly three meters tall on average and weighs around two hundred kilograms. Scholars of the White Tower believe that ogres are a branch of the goblin lineage, but unlike their frail kin, these powerful humanoid monsters are innately evil and brutal. They will devour any creature they catch—including their own kind.

Ogres are mostly social, living in groups. The smallest clans are family units composed of one or two males, two to five females, and several young. The largest groups can number over a hundred. Their method of solving problems is to smash obstacles directly with clubs, stones, or spears; if that fails, they simply ignore the problem and move on. Though they are physically robust and immensely strong, ogres are rather dim-witted. They attack human villages without scruple, and most settlements that fall are victims of ogre assaults. Thus, human lords may turn a blind eye to goblins, kobolds, or even small gnoll tribes within their domains, but they will never tolerate ogres wandering their lands.

Victor, Edwin, and Bruce were gathered around an oak table, each awaiting the latest intelligence from their scouts.

Suddenly, a large black raven flew in through the window, flapping its wings before landing upon the table and giving a loud caw at Edwin. This was Victor’s alchemical raven.

Edwin immediately placed a handful of pebbles and a silver dish on the table. The raven picked up a pebble and dropped it onto the dish, producing a clear “ding,” then tilted its head to scrutinize Edwin, as if waiting to see where the old scholar would produce its reward.

“This is Blackfeather’s third reconnaissance. Judging by the results, it has indeed found only one ogre in the southwest corner of our territory,” Edwin said after tossing a dried fruit to the waiting raven.

In recent days, Edwin had been training this clever alchemical raven and named it Blackfeather. To his surprise, Blackfeather could, after training, express numbers up to twenty. Thus, he drew a sketch of an ogre and attempted to have Blackfeather scout out their numbers.

“Master, I don’t doubt your conclusions, but ogres usually travel in packs… For the soldiers’ safety, I think we’d better wait for more detailed reports from the scouts,” Bruce said. He didn’t believe a raven could distinguish between one and a group of ogres. Perhaps the bird was clever, but its cunning was surely best used to beg for food.

Victor, of course, trusted the results of Blackfeather’s reconnaissance, but he had no intention of voicing any opinion on the matter.

Just then, Nelson hurried in with a note.

“Southwest corner—one ogre, unknown number of gnolls. That’s the scouts’ report,” Nelson announced directly, seeing all three men staring at him.

“One ogre? That’s wonderful!” Victor breathed a sigh of relief. Though he trusted the alchemical raven, the corroboration from the scouts was reassuring.

Edwin and Bruce exchanged a grave look. After a moment’s hesitation, Edwin said to Victor, “Having only one ogre is good news, but it could also be bad.”

“Ogres are savage and combative. The strongest males fight each other for leadership, and these battles are usually fatal—the loser always pays in blood and life, reinforcing the victor’s authority. Yet there are exceptions: sometimes a defeated male escapes the clan and becomes a wandering ogre. These solitary outcasts are extremely formidable and often possess the ability to go berserk,” Edwin explained, glancing at Bruce, who understood perfectly.

“An ogre capable of berserk rage is stronger than an ordinary knight. This innate ability allows it to ignore pain; the more wounded it is, the greater its strength and speed. Regular elite soldiers cannot withstand the onslaught of a berserk ogre. Even a Bronze Knight may not hold out for long. However, I am confident I can hold it off. While I do, your task is to keep shooting it with heavy crossbows until it falls!” Bruce spoke quietly, his fighting spirit burning in his eyes.

It was clear that Bruce intended to make this ogre the opportunity for his breakthrough from Bronze to the extraordinary ranks.

“Captain Nelson, you’ll need to select some men skilled with crossbows and horsemanship to join my team. Remember to wear only leather armor—if an ogre’s spiked club strikes you, it makes no difference whether you wear plate or leather. Only speed and agility can protect you,” Bruce instructed Nelson.

“Couldn’t we dig a trap for the ogre?” Victor suggested, thinking it unnecessary to fight such a powerful, foolish creature head-on.

“Ogres, though clumsy and rash, have keen instincts—an innate gift, you might say. They can avoid most traps; otherwise, they would have gone extinct long ago. That’s why any soldier facing an ogre must always accept the risk of death or injury,” Edwin said with a wry smile.

“We’ll set out on horseback this afternoon. Once we reach the site, let the soldiers and horses rest thoroughly, and attack the creature at noon tomorrow. Let’s begin preparations now,” Bruce said, springing up and leaning on the table, visibly excited.

That afternoon, a team of over forty set out as planned, including all the trainee knights, Victor, and Edwin.

Victor had joined at Bruce’s request; with a military-grade heavy crossbow in hand, he was no less lethal than an ordinary knight—and Victor was eager to witness such a legendary monster for himself.

As for Edwin, he had insisted on joining the expedition, promising to stay out of harm’s way and not be a burden.

By dusk, they had rendezvoused with the scouts monitoring the ogre. The intelligence was confirmed: a solitary ogre had built a nest by a stream, with no signs of injury. In the nearby woods, gnoll tracks had been found, but their numbers remained unknown.

Before sunset, a temporary camp was erected. After supper, Sir Bruce greeted everyone, then retired to his tent to rest.

“Bruce seems out of sorts. Will tomorrow really be all right?” Victor, who had never seen the usually composed Bruce so grim, couldn’t help but worry.

“Bruce is preparing himself for tomorrow’s battle. He will face a berserk ogre alone—a dangerous challenge,” Edwin replied softly.

“I don’t understand. If berserk ogres are so powerful, why don’t we just shoot it from afar with heavy crossbows?” Victor asked in puzzlement.

“There are two issues,” Edwin explained. “First, in its berserk state, an ogre is impervious to wounds, its speed and strength greatly increased. If no knight holds its attention, it will slaughter the archers before they can bring it down. In the end, we would lose many shooters, and the ogre’s resilience might still see it survive. Second, it is extremely difficult for a Bronze Knight to advance to the extraordinary ranks. Aside from bloodline talent, one possible method is to experience a life-and-death trial, pushing the body to its limits and awakening all twenty-four elemental nodes, thereby ascending to Silver Knight. Bruce intends to seize this chance for his breakthrough; he won’t let it slip away.”

While Edwin explained to Victor, neither noticed the gleam in Nicole’s eyes.

The next morning, Bruce and Nelson, each bearing a heavy shield, led the way at the front. Nicole and four trainee knights guarded Victor and Master Edwin in the center, while the other soldiers formed a fan-shaped formation with their crossbows, advancing toward the ogre’s lair.

By noon, Victor saw the solitary ogre by the stream. The creature was only two and a half meters tall, draped in a thick black pelt resembling bearskin. Its limbs were bare, joints knobby, muscles somewhat atrophied, skin a dark brown-black covered in tough hide and protruding lumps. Hunched and pot-bellied like a pregnant woman, its face was hidden by dense gray-white hair.

It was indeed an ogre, though not the robust chieftain of legend, but rather a sickly specimen. As everyone exchanged puzzled looks, a hoarse voice sounded.

“Humans, what brings you to the home of Golash? I am so old I can’t even chew the sinew of split-hoof cattle. I pose no threat to you, nor do I possess any treasure. Please be on your way.”

It was perfect common tongue—flawless grammar and intonation—yet everyone was stunned, for the voice came from the ogre.

Ogres are known for their stupidity and primitiveness. Though they have their own language and can manage a few words of gnoll, it was unheard of for an ogre to speak fluent human language. The sight of this strange ogre speaking so startled everyone.

“My word! The legends are true! This is an elder ogre!” Edwin was the first to recover, exclaiming loudly.

Ogres can live up to ninety years, but few survive past fifty, for the weak perish from hunger or are slain by their own kind. Yet, legend holds that an ogre who lives past sixty will awaken to true intelligence, capable of conversing with most sentient races, and will leave its clan to live alone, just as this one had.

“Yes, Golash is old and does not have many days left. I dwell here, eating bark and roots, occasionally hunting, but I am no threat to you. Please, spare poor old Golash. By the way, the one who spoke must be a learned elder. Golash admires the wise above all—perhaps we could become good friends,” the elder ogre said, shuffling toward Edwin.

“Stop it! It wants to eat my brain!” Master Edwin shouted in a panic. “If this old ogre can speak like a human, it means it has eaten human brains! Don’t be fooled by its words—it’s a cunning and ruthless monster!”

Bruce’s face changed at once. He stepped forward, leveled his halberd at the ogre, and barked, “Back, you ugly brute!”

“Relax, mighty knight. Those are only rumors. Golash has never eaten a human brain,” the elder ogre replied, retreating.

“Don’t believe a word an elder ogre says. They are cunning and excel at deceit. According to White Tower records, elder ogres, driven from their clans by old age and unable to find food, live alone and resort to traps and trickery to prey upon sentient beings. They are especially fond of humans, elves, and halflings. There are rumors that elder ogres gain the memories and intelligence of their victims by devouring their brains, making the brains of elders and scholars irresistibly attractive to them,” Edwin said, trembling with a mix of fear and excitement. “Some scholars even argue that elder ogres and ordinary ogres are no longer the same species, for their brain structure has greatly changed. I’d love to dissect one myself!”

The elder ogre wished to eat the old scholar’s brain—while the old scholar wanted to open up the ogre’s skull! Victor found this all rather ridiculous.

“No, no, you misunderstand elder ogres. Golash’s knowledge comes from ancient bloodlines. My memory tells me ogres and humans share a common ancestor, only our forebears were cursed to become what we are now.”

Seeing the archers spreading out and the knights closing in, the elder ogre explained hastily, inching back toward the nest built of bones, wood, and turf.

“Ancient bloodline memories?” Edwin’s eyes lit up. He knew that powerful races sometimes inherited knowledge through bloodlines, gaining wisdom and abilities at a certain age.

“Indeed, I know many ancient secrets. Perhaps we could sit and discuss them,” Golash said, trying to tempt the scholar with the offer of lost knowledge.

“I might consider cutting off your limbs and taking you back to the White Tower for a thorough discussion,” Edwin retorted coldly.

Since Edwin was unmoved, the ogre turned to Victor. “You must be the lord of these lands. Could you ask your men to calm themselves? Perhaps we could strike a deal.”

“Oh? What sort of deal do you propose?” Victor was surprised that this articulate monster could discern his status.

“Noble lord, a dreadful disaster is soon to befall your domain. Many will die, but I can give you this information. In exchange, you must provide me with food. I could even help you rid your lands of other monsters—like the gnolls, for instance…” Golash threatened, sounding every bit the charlatan.

“Golash, I will never trust a man-eater’s words. Don’t bother denying it—the bones scattered around your nest are evidence enough. Today is your end, monster!” Victor’s eyes glittered with a cold light. To his keen perception, the human bones among the debris were plain as day.

“Heh, Golash is an ogre. Eating people is in our nature, just as humans eat cattle and sheep—there is no guilt in it.”

Perceiving Victor’s murderous intent, the elder ogre dropped the pretense, cackling as it pulled from its nest a massive femur—perhaps from some long-dead behemoth—pointed it at Bruce, and declared, “Mighty knight, Golash will break through. Even if I fail, I will kill a few of your companions. If I succeed, I’ll hide in the shadows and plague you with vengeance. Here is your chance for a duel: if you defeat me, I swear by Amberly, Mother of Ogres, never to return to these lands; but you must swear as a knight that none of your men will attack me until our contest is decided. Do you dare, human knight?”

Bruce’s pupils contracted. A cruel smile twisted his lips as he pronounced, word by word, “I swear by my honor as a knight that none will attack you until our duel is decided.”

Bruce had come precisely to risk life and death against a berserk ogre and seek his breakthrough to Silver Knight. Why would he fear a senile, feeble old ogre?

“That monster is cunning! It only said that if it wins, it will leave and never return, but didn’t say what happens if it loses. Shouldn’t we remind Lord Bruce?” a rough-looking trainee knight whispered to his companion, unaware the other regarded him as a fool.