The Man-Eater (6)

Nord! Right hip!! The accessory hanging there!!

‘—That’s it!’

My eyes locked onto the round object hidden against the ogre’s flank in a single heartbeat. We had planned for this. If a surprise throat-slit wasn’t possible, the ogre bastard would burn through its hoarded mana the moment it felt cornered. Once it was dead, that stored power would be as useless as a savings account at a funeral.

But here was the real question: if the ogre started spending that reserve, would our odds of winning vanish?

‘No way.’

Magic power was the product of mana expenditure and proficiency. I only had to remember how my Burning Hand had struggled to light kindling in the beginning. Even if the bastard was willing to waste mana, the chance of us getting wiped out instantly was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠still low.

That was why my single role in the plan was crystal clear.

—Shupat!!

I stamped forward, spear in hand. The ogre raised its guard, ready to counter. Perfect. No fear of eating a hit. I twisted my lips and whispered.

“Summon Cloud.”

WHOOOOSH—!!

My secret technique, the Mama-Mu Fog, exploded outward and swallowed a three-meter radius around the ogre. “Woooooo──!!” The ogre roared like a wild animal and lunged. It might have guessed my aim with that oversized brain of its, but I was faster. It never imagined it would have its own switcheroo trick thrown back in its face. A perfect smoke-screen counter.

I hadn’t used the Munge-Munge Gun during our brawl precisely because I was saving this spell. I needed to land one flawless ambush on the bastard—at least once.

—My designated role in the plan was to steal the ‘mana-storing item.’

“Cash out your savings, you fucker. You’re paying for your own funeral.”

I dropped low, almost crawling, and swept the spear in a smooth arc.

—Slice!

The blade slipped under its guard like a pickpocket’s hand, cutting across the ogre’s waist. I reached out, snatched the ancient relic it had tucked at its belt, and slipped away clean. An eye for an eye. The proper way to repay a thief is with theft.

“——GIVE IT BAAAAAACK!!!”

The instant my hand closed around the treasure at its waist, the ogre charged, shaking the earth. I dodged the lightning-crackling fists and examined my prize. A rune stone that looked like an imperial seal. That was the ogre’s ‘mana-storing relic.’

I pocketed it and smirked. “Ogre King, huh? What a joke. You don’t even have territory or subjects.”

“Foolish words!! Britannia is my land!!!”

The ogre swung wildly, trying to reclaim its seal. I focused entirely on evasion. I had dodged straight jabs before; there was no way random hooks would catch me.

“I am the true master of this land!! The conqueror of Oghas who shall reclaim the ancient royal territories from the inferior races and rebuild the dynasty that should have been mine!!”

The enraged ogre bellowed its sophistry as it charged. I frowned at the roar.

‘Are there actually talking ogre variants?’

If so, this one might belong to a higher species. Information worth remembering.

“Ice Arrow.”

Tirsi’s magic slammed into the ogre while it frantically tried to recover the disk from me. Its frenzy only grew worse.

“Inferior species and failures, flocking together!!”

The ogre howled. I congratulated myself on choosing the spear. Otherwise I would have been drenched in its spit. It still had some intelligence, yet its face was pure monster—completely at odds with its fluent speech.

“You lowly humans!! What right do creatures like you have to obstruct my path to conquest!!”

“This guy’s fucking insane. You’re the one who stole first, you son of a bitch.”

I cut the spitting ogre down with a single remark. Expecting logical conversation from a criminal might be asking too much, but this was beyond ridiculous. The ogre hurled murderous intent at me in complete reversal.

“You are no mischievous child, yet you would steal my treasure for such a pathetic reason!!”

“Wah wah.”

“You insolent inferior bastard!!!!”

“Wah wah, one minute old.”

Even when I refuted it with intellectual dignity, the words didn’t reach. As expected, the ogre had no conscience that could sympathize with me. If conscience really equaled intelligence like I’d told Tirsi, this guy probably wasn’t that bright. If that formula held true, then every intellectual on Earth and in this world would be a civilized, well-mannered person.

“──Ah.”

That was when it hit me. A single realization sliced through my mind like ice-cold soda water poured straight into my brain. I saw the ogre’s true nature with perfect clarity.

Actually, I was almost too late.

‘So that’s it… That’s what it was.’

Recently I’d gained too many goals and faced too many incidents; my head had been cluttered. That must have been why I nearly forgot my most primal objective.

The vicious egoism of stealing the achievements Veronica and I had built together and claiming them as its own. A mentality that felt no shame whatsoever. If you searched the entire other world, only ‘them’ possessed such a structure.

“You too.”

Inside accelerated perception where the attacking ogre looked like it was moving in slow motion, the murmur slipped from my lips like an unconscious reflex.

“You too── were a professor.”

What followed the realization was self-reproach. Maybe because I had been living happily with Franc and Dana these past days. Or maybe because more than a month had passed since I escaped my master’s program, and like any discharged soldier adjusting to society, the trauma had begun to fade.

Even after witnessing a vicious creature that extorted what it wanted from others and used it however it pleased, I had failed to recognize that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this ogre was a professor. I could forgive myself for that. Having my rune’s mana stolen was infuriating, but the effort I’d invested to obtain it hadn’t been that great. Recovering it would be relatively easy.

But Veronica? She had poured years of effort into accumulating that mana, only to have it ripped away. Yet she had calmed me down and prepared to face the professor alone! Compared to her nobility, my own anger felt almost insufficient.

—Fwoooooosh!!

Time perception snapped back to normal. The ogre professor’s fist filled my vision. I kicked off the ground and evaded that ugly killing intent. The blue-green of Beast Regression left meteor-like afterimages.

“Khuk?!”

The ogre professor froze mid-attack, stunned that I—who had been barely dodging earlier—had escaped its punch range at blinding speed. It looked exactly like a professor who believed his graduate student would remain forever in his grasp, only to watch that student walk away for a real job.

—Fwoooosh.

I pressed my forehead to the spear shaft. Professor Slayer rested a hand on my shoulder. Feeling the mana catheter for Beast Regression surge, I raised the weapon.

“Bleed as much as the tears you made others shed.”

The mystery of spearmanship spiraled around the mithril blade. I wrapped and deflected the desperate punch. Once caught on the double-edged tip, the ogre professor’s fist was shredded to rags. Three fists flew at once. I spun the spear to block, rebounded powerfully, then drove the point downward. The ogre’s guarding arm was severed.

“Owwwwuuu!!!!”

Even with one arm gone, the ogre’s fury remained terrifying. Its punches carried weight that would have been unbearable if not for my mana skin. Realizing raw power wasn’t enough, the ogre used its severed limb as a literal shield, catching my spear in a spray of blood. Fist strikes that tore the air rained down like a barrage. What had been ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠meaningless punches became the tenacious obsession of a cornered beast. Heavy impacts began to accumulate on my body.

Then, even as its shield arm was sliced away, reason returned to the ogre’s eyes. It had felt the mana surge.

Rune letters now coiled around Veronica, who had transformed back into human shape at some point. Tirsi raised her wand and chanted alongside her. The pain in its arm seemed to keep the ogre from losing focus. The instinct that looking away from me meant death had, in fact, saved the bastard’s life. Or rather, it had only saved its life.

—Slice!

The spear tip grazed the ogre’s knee. As cartilage tore and its head dipped, I slammed the shaft upward into its skull.

“AAaaaaaaaaa!!!”

Even with its jaw rattled, the ogre’s tough vitality let it kick me in the side. I hadn’t set my stance properly, so the weight difference sent me flying sideways. The ogre crawled after Tirsi and Veronica in a frenzy.

“Kahuk!! Heok, huk!!”

Fear flooded the ogre’s eyes. Panting, it used every available limb to scrabble across the ground in an ugly sprint. If it had been charging to fight, I might have respected it. But this was pure desperation for survival.

They say if you want to see someone’s true nature, give them power or drive them into a corner. From my perspective, this ogre had no dignity worthy of calling itself king. After abandoning magic for barbaric fists, giving up the stolen seal, and running across the dirt like any common monster—there was none.

—WHOOOSH!!

I corrected my posture with the propulsion of compressed steam. Summon Cloud without a chant. Somehow I had known I could do it. Professor Slayer clapped like a delighted child at my growth.

“Kaaah! Bin mog thata kcha!”

I roared meaningless nonsense and slammed a rocket-like flying kick into the ogre’s flank.

“Vector—Final Vent!!”

“Woaaaaaaa!!!”

The ultra-high-speed Nord Kick, propelled by compressed jet thrust, launched the ogre bastard through the air.

Listening to Veronica’s chant, I realized the ogre’s ribs had been shattered. The body of the thieving bastard who dreamed of kingship could not withstand the combined strike of an Earth hero’s leg strength and the White Hunter’s secret technique.

Shit. My mistake. I should have torn the ribs out completely.

“ᚺ(Hagalaaaaaaaaaaaaz)!!!!!”

“Ice Wall.”

The ogre rolled across the ground and pointed its remaining hand at Veronica. The ice wall blocked the lightning blast. Tirsi had erected the Ice Wall without chanting, wand raised.

Even while doing so, Veronica kept her eyes closed, sweating as she continued the incantation. Because of her curse she found concentration difficult, so we had agreed beforehand that Tirsi and I would defend her while she chanted. Her claim that once would be enough had been completely correct.

Veronica raised her hand and slid her fingers as if harvesting grain ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with a scythe, completing the spell.

【Sleet Shower (Krapadrífa).】

What appeared was a hail blizzard capable of punching through stone. Countless chunks of ice poured from nowhere, pounding the ogre’s body as if grinding it to paste. A boulder larger than me in the area of effect was reduced to rubble and scattered in three seconds.

Now I truly understood why people said rune magic wasn’t suited for combat. Even Veronica, who could unleash something like this, could only drop rocks on people’s heads when limited to runes.

“ᛃ(Jēra)!!”

The ogre endured with magic resistance, fighting to the bitter end. It began absorbing mana to avoid death.

“In the millennial kingdom of Oghas!! Cursed races are unnecessary!!!”

“No. The executor does not determine the value of the citizens. The citizens determine the value of the executor.”

Tirsi was the one who answered the arrogant declaration. She spoke loudly enough for the ogre to hear and raised her wand.

“A power-mad wretch seeking a nation and people for self-gratification should not presume to call itself king.”

Tirsi released the mid-tier wind magic she had completed through chanting.

“Etten's Refusal.”

The whirlwind swallowed the hail blizzard. Ice fragments that collided and spun behaved like dust inside a vacuum cleaner. The ogre was pulled in like a scrap of paper; only its shadow remained as its arms and legs slowly disintegrated piece by piece.

When the hailstorm—where one second had felt like a full minute—finally ended, nothing remained but a sack of frozen meat.

I rested the blood-cleared spear on my shoulder and muttered.

“As the ancient sages taught, the path of tyranny deserves death.”

As expected, the old sayings never contained a single falsehood.