The Ogre
Ogre.
Lycan bellowed the order to attack. In truth, his voice barely carried at all — the ogre's footsteps drowned out everything, each one a thunderous quake that swallowed sound whole.
The giant's slow approach drained the color from every adventurer present. Then, without warning, torn hunks of flesh rained down in front of them. The victims the ogre had already struck — the ones flung skyward — had come back down to rejoin the living. What remained of them was a nightmare. Twisted arms and legs were the least of it; torsos and lower halves lay scattered wherever they had fallen, separated without care or mercy.
No adventurer who saw that sight failed to picture their own end.
"H-hyaaaaah!"
Only then did I understand why the goblins had been running.
One by one, the adventurers spun on their heels and fled — weapons cast aside, packs torn from their backs and abandoned in the snow. Their faces had gone bone-white, expressions no different from the goblins' own.
"Hold your ground! Do not run!"
Lycan roared again, the cry half scream. No one listened.
What do I do? Should I run too?
"Grrraaah!"
In that instant, Lycan broke into a sprint — straight toward the ogre, the opposite direction of every goblin and fleeing adventurer. His dark crimson cape snapped behind him, a streak of red that tore through my vision.
That was what finally got me back on my feet.
"Stand and fight! Do not give a single step! Bring that thing down and there's gold in it for you — thirty gold!"
Lycan charged the ogre as he shouted. The promise of a fortune stopped adventurers mid-stride. They hesitated, weighing coin against their own lives. Seeing it, Lycan shouted once more.
"Fifty gold!"
The words had barely left his mouth before he hurled himself at the ogre. He moved like a wolf. Blue light flared along his blade and resolved into the shape of phantom fangs.
Shhk—!
The knight's sword carved a wound into the ogre's thick arm. And the knight paid for it at once.
WHAM—!
An attack far too fast for something so massive. A heavy fist smashed into Lycan with crushing force. The impact of body against fist detonated a shockwave of wind; white snow blasted into the air as Lycan was driven backward.
"Ghhhk...!"
He skidded across the open snowfield like a stone skipped over ice. Unlike the other adventurers, he had weathered the ogre's blow. His face had gone deathly pale and he staggered as if he might collapse at any second — but he never let go of his sword.
"U-uaaaaagh!"
The adventurers charged. Of the roughly three hundred present, fewer than half joined the assault, but the sudden counterattack clearly rattled the ogre. It began swinging its fists in wild arcs. Wherever those enormous hands passed, a gale followed — and with it, lives ended.
Even watching their comrades die, the adventurers did not stop. Swords, axes, every kind of blade whirled in a chaotic storm. And while the ogre's attention locked fully on them, Lycan lunged again.
But the ogre had never taken its eyes off him. It knew. Lycan's attacks were far more dangerous than anything the other humans could manage.
And I realized — this was my chance.
The moment the thought formed, I moved. There was no long deliberation, no hesitation. Legs that monster fear had locked rigid drove forward in a powerful stride, and the mana circle coiled around my heart spun into a blur. My small frame cut through the snow with startling speed. I slipped between the adventurers, and suddenly the ogre's vast bulk filled my vision.
Still running, I raised my sword. Moonlight high above wound itself in faintly glittering starlight, gathering for a single strike. But the mana did not stop there. The first circle, spinning hard, flooded outward into my arms and legs. Faint starlight began to coat it as the circle took over for muscle itself.
Wielding two entirely different natures of mana at once was grueling work. I felt the starlight gathered along the blade start to scatter. Any longer and everything I had carefully collected would bleed away to nothing.
"Hyah!"
With a short cry, the starlight-wrapped moon fell. The slash dropped in a clean vertical line and struck the ogre's thigh. Thick hide split open; the blade bit deep into flesh.
[GRWOOOOAAARGH!]
The ogre screamed in shock and pain and dropped to one knee. That was the opening Lycan needed. With one knee down, the ogre's upper body had sunk low — and Lycan's blade came screaming for its throat.
"Hup!"
I was soaked in the ogre's blood; my whole body burned with heat. I twisted the blade with everything I had, trying to wrench free the sword buried deep in its thigh. Every turn of the steel shredded muscle and flesh, pumping out thick gouts of red.
Then the ogre started to move. Still unable to free my sword, I had no choice but to cling to it, swinging wildly with every thrash of its body. It fought Lycan with violent, thrashing force, and every time it did, its muscles swelled enormously — the thigh muscles included. That swelling clamped down on my blade like a vice, locking it in place so it could not be pulled free.
"Nngh...!"
The ogre was too busy with Lycan and the adventurers to spare me even a glance. It seized nearby adventurers and swung them like weapons, or snatched up fallen logs and brandished them as clubs. When a log shattered under its own strength, it simply hurled the pieces.
Hanging from the ogre's thigh, I watched Lycan's face. It was twisted tight, running with sweat and blood. His eyes still burned — but I felt no confidence that he could win.
I exhaled low and spun the second mana circle hard. Pure, unadorned natural mana — free of any starlight — began to scatter a biting cold. A frigid winter wind tore through my body; ice-cold blood raced from my heart to every extremity.
Channeling pure natural mana refined through the circle's rotation was extremely dangerous. My heartbeat slowed. My vision blurred. I furrowed my brow and forced every scrap of mana into a single point. The cold surged. The moment the circle's shape around my heart began to fade, the freezing mana poured out through my arm as a conduit — and from my arm, straight into the sword.
Krrrk—!
The mana released through the blade no longer answered to me. Pure mana ran wild. It erupted outward and froze everything it touched. White frost raced out from the ogre's thigh, and the leg locked solid in ice.
I had emptied every last drop of mana left in my body. Feeling the cold sink deeper into my senses, I dropped to the ground.
[GRWOOAAARGH!]
The attack had not been wasted. The ogre screamed and tried to move its leg — and the frozen right leg shattered like glass. Suddenly missing a limb, the ogre toppled, and there was nowhere left to dodge Lycan's strike.
KRRAAASH!
Lycan's slash split the ogre's skull. A fountain of red blood burst from the wound and drenched us both.
"Hah... hah..."
Lycan collapsed onto the ground, gasping. The tension had finally broken.
"W-we won!"
"We woooon!"
The adventurers roared their triumph over the fallen ogre. Not a soul among them found the noise too loud.
After the battle with the ogre, the adventurers' attitude toward me changed completely. The mere act of approaching or speaking to them made them jump and start watching my every move.
Lycan was no different.
Late that evening, I sat across from him by a campfire. With a calm face, he offered his thanks.
"I'm grateful. We never would have taken that ogre down without you."
I shook my head. My help had mattered, yes — but it was Lycan who had delivered the finishing blow. Without him, the ogre never would have fallen.
"It was thanks to you, Lycan."
"You're being far too modest."
I said nothing and held my hands out toward the fire. Where the cold mana had raced through me, a lingering chill still seemed to flow.
"I'll send formal thanks to your Magic Tower through the mayor."
"Ah — no, you really don't need to do that."
"I insist."
"Mm..."
Faced with Lycan's stubborn resolve, I gave an awkward smile and looked away. It seemed every mage in this world belonged to a Magic Tower. Were there truly no free mages who operated on their own?
I wanted to ask him about the mages of this world, but I had no desire to invite unnecessary suspicion, so I kept my mouth shut. I asked something else instead.
"Lycan. Would it be all right if I took the ogre's hide?"
"The hide? Of course. I can set aside the sinew for you as well."
Lycan transferred half of every material harvested from the ogre to me. Not a single adventurer questioned the decision.
Rain and her master raced by carriage and arrived at the port city in a breathless rush. Together they went from person to person, asking after Ceris.
A small girl who walked around carrying a sword tended to draw eyes wherever she went — and hers was a beautiful face on top of that. Naturally, the townspeople remembered her.
"Hahh..."
"Haah..."
Rain and her master both let out hollow sighs. They had pushed themselves hard to get here, and the girl named Ceris was nowhere in the city. According to the rumors, she had joined a monster subjugation force assembled only a day earlier and left town with them.
"I'm sorry..."
"It can't be helped. If we wait in this city, she'll come back."
"Mmm..."
Rain hung her head, looking thoroughly dejected. The reason they were late was none other than Rain herself. Of all the times to make a mistake while writing a report...
She thought of her own foolish blunder and heaved another deep sigh. Please, she thought — please let that small girl return to this city before her master's period of outside activity came to an end.
Rain murmured it under her breath, the words nearly lost in another sigh.