Chapter 52
Chapter 52
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 52
Chapter Title: The Missing Ogre
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Whoosh!
Once Prince Julius's brief speech ended, the first to charge into the forest was Victor of the Sword Family.
Following his lead, the rest of the nobles rushed toward the woods in a swarm.
'Yeah, he must really want to win this time.'
Last time, he hadn't been able to claim the glory of victory because of my brother.
The unusual part was that Princess Seira from the royal family was participating as well.
'I figured she wouldn't bother since she'd already won before.'
"Hey, what's with all the brooding? You coming?"
"Go on ahead. I'll go last."
Saladin shrugged lightly at my words.
"Fine, suit yourself. Whether you go a little early or late, you're no pushover anyway."
As Saladin gathered his gear, he added one more thing.
"Try not to run into me until I've fulfilled that favor you asked. Your fists are seriously scary."
With that, Saladin headed into the forest too.
The only ones left outside the woods now were me and Prince Julius, who was overseeing the event.
"Your Highness."
At my short call, Prince Julius turned his head toward me.
"Is that offer you made me on the first day still valid?"
The proposal Julius had made to me. Independence.
Understanding the implication of my question, Prince Julius's face gradually lit up.
"Oh, of course! I'd welcome it anytime. However..."
"...?"
What? He wouldn't attach new conditions in that short time, would he?
As I looked at him quizzically, the prince met my gaze with playful eyes.
"If you show impressive results in this competition, wouldn't that open the door to even better terms?"
'Ah, so that's it.'
Any lingering doubts vanished, and I gave Prince Julius a light nod.
"I won't disappoint you."
With those final words, I headed into the depths of the prepared forest as well.
It had taken a long time—nearly a year.
Now it was time for the kingdom to learn.
That the wastrel once dismissed as a bug was no longer a wastrel or a bug.
"Keeaaak!!"
Goblin.
A pitifully weak monster, known as the lowest of the low.
An average adult man could handle one without much trouble if he kept his wits about him.
But to a noble who had never taken a monster's—or any living creature's—life, it was an enemy unlike any other.
"U, uwaaaah!!"
Thwack!
Finally mustering his (considerable?) courage, a young noble swung his club down at the goblin's head.
Blue blood sprayed from the goblin's crushed skull, splattering the noble's face.
"Urp, blegh...!"
Was it the raw stench of blood that turned his stomach?
The noble couldn't hold back his nausea and began vomiting against a tree stump.
And behind that noble.
Swish.
"Kereruk."
"Ah, crap!"
A goblin had crept up silently, paralysis needle at the ready, aimed right at him. The noble hurriedly tried to raise his club again, but it was too late.
Thinking it was the end, he squeezed his eyes shut without realizing it.
"...?"
But even after some time passed, no pain or strange sensation came.
Cautiously opening his eyes, the noble saw the goblin's headless corpse and a man whose fist was coated in blue blood.
"You can't close your eyes. That way, you can't dodge what you could have, and you end up dying pointlessly to the enemy."
The noble knew who this calm-spoken man was.
"Y-Young Master Jerome...!"
Relief mixed with a hint of puzzlement flickered in the man's eyes.
He belonged to the Sword Family faction. Yet Jerome had saved him from what could have been a disaster.
'Or maybe he didn't even know who I am.'
Compared to Jerome, his own presence was so insignificant that Jerome hadn't recognized him.
Either way, he was his savior, so as he moved to express his gratitude—
Snap!
"...?"
A short sound rang out, and Jerome's hand brushed past his neck.
In Jerome's hand was the necklace he had been wearing.
"I'll be taking this. You would've passed out from the goblin's paralysis dart anyway, so don't feel too hard done by. See you later."
Having snatched the noble's necklace, Jerome leisurely walked deeper into the forest.
The noble stared blankly at Jerome's retreating back, his eyes inadvertently drifting to Jerome's hand.
Jerome's hand was laden with necklaces just like his own, dangling like fruit from a tree.
Similar scenes were unfolding everywhere.
Monster hunting was essentially a stage for a select few from the start.
Not every noble could build up their martial prowess.
The event was mainly intended to give nobles some taste of real battlefield experience.
Thus, as time passed, only a handful would stand out in the competition.
After three days, most nobles had lost their necklaces.
Victor of the Sword Family.
Princess Seira of the royal family.
And Jerome of the Shield Family.
These three led the pack, closely pursued by another.
Thud!
"Argh, seriously! Leave me alone! I just want to lay low and head out quietly! Damn it!"
Saladin grumbled endlessly as he took the necklace from a noble who had been knocked out by Mini's hand chop to the nape.
He wanted to slip away quietly, but he couldn't just let these fools who came offering their necklaces on a platter walk away empty-handed.
The nobles had kept approaching, wondering if the puppet user Saladin might have a weakness.
As many nobles lost their necklaces and the competition's end came into view, an anomaly began to occur.
"Ptooey!"
It might be spring, but temperatures plummeted in the forest once the sun set.
"Brr, cold. Damn it. Why does this idiotic schedule always have to include this?"
Hasaway Anne Dwayne, heir to Kelton territory, wiped his dripping nose and vented his frustration by the campfire.
Kelton had been loyal to the royal family for generations, so he couldn't voice his complaints openly.
Still, it was irritating beyond measure.
His necklace had been snatched by Victor of the Sword Family early on.
"Tch, that damn treacherous bastard—why's he so strong?"
Hasaway Anne Dwayne rubbed his bare neck and grumbled pointlessly.
Deep down, he knew the truth.
His family, House Hasaway, had always produced bureaucrats.
In a hunting competition like this, they were destined to be extras.
He was the heir to House Hasaway, loyal to the crown for generations, but this one event grated on him like nothing else.
"Tch! Just you wait—in the debate rounds, House Hasaway will be the stars."
Dwayne doused the campfire? No, he left it burning, meticulously setting up artifacts with defensive spells and alert magic around him before crawling into his sleeping bag.
Though he was on the forest's outskirts, the men of House Hasaway were weaklings who had to give their all even against a single goblin.
Even against mere goblins, this level of defensive magic was necessary for a safe sleep.
With the alert spells perfectly prepared for any contingency, there was nothing to worry about.
Or so it should have been.
Beep! Beep!!
"Wh-what?!"
The alert magic he'd just set up blared like mad.
Startled, Dwayne leaped out of his sleeping bag and grabbed his sword.
Weakling or not, he had learned the bare minimum of swordsmanship as part of his education.
Moreover, the alert's pitch suggested a fairly strong monster.
Yet Dwayne wasn't worried.
No monster on the outskirts could pierce his artifact's defensive magic.
But that confidence proved unfounded.
A massive shadow loomed before him like a mountain.
"O-ogre...?"
Dwayne gaped at the surreal sight.
Why was an ogre, which belonged in the forest's heart, out here on the edge?
For a fleeting moment, an irreverent thought crossed his mind: had the royal family lost its mind hosting this?
No, that didn't matter.
The point was, he had no chance against an ogre.
Trickle...
His legs gave out, and hot yellow liquid poured from the crotch of his pants.
'I-I'm gonna die. I don't want to die. I don't want to die!!'
Clack clack clack.
His teeth chattered uncontrollably, his mind fixed on one thought.
Run.
But his limp legs refused to obey.
Yet, for some reason.
The ogre before him didn't budge.
"...?"
Terrified as he was, Dwayne cautiously shifted only his eyes forward.
Moving might provoke the ogre's massive fist to pulverize him in an instant.
After a moment, his eyes adjusted to the dark.
Just then, the three full moons of the Cardia continent emerged from behind the clouds, illuminating the ogre before Dwayne.
"Hiiik!!"
Upon seeing the ogre, Dwayne recoiled in greater horror.
The ogre standing before him was covered head to toe in blood, already dead.
A massive hole gaped in its abdomen.
As if some enormous beast had torn into it with its fangs.
"That's strange."
As I collected other nobles' necklaces and reached the forest's center, I tilted my head.
Something that should have been there... wasn't.
It was gone.
The ogre.
An ogre inhabited the forest's deepest core.
That was the fundamental rule of the monster hunting competition.
To prevent tragedies among the young nobles, this one tradition had never changed throughout its long history.
"Did Victor already take it down? Nah, that doesn't make sense."
I wasn't doubting Victor's skill.
On the contrary, a guy like him could butcher an ogre in seconds.
If my guess was right, he had no interest in something as trivial as an ogre.
He had a far more enticing prey: me.
His goal in this competition was me from the start, so there was no reason to rush off for an ogre.
That's why I'd taken my time, scouting casually as I came.
'Saladin's probably on the outskirts, and Princess Seira isn't the reckless type. So who else?'
Several candidates flashed through my mind, but none fit.
Besides, there wasn't even a corpse here.
On top of that, the forest showed signs of something far larger having rampaged through.
As I pondered these mysteries—
Rustle.
Someone emerged from the opposite woods.
"There you are, Jerome. Took me ages to find you."
Pushing through the underbrush with a friendly greeting was none other than Victor.
His waist was festooned with a ridiculous number of necklaces. His eyes fell on my pouch, stuffed to the brim with the same.
"...Hah, I figured something had changed, but you had an ace up your sleeve after all."
Shing!
Victor muttered as he drew his enormous greatsword with menacing intent.
"To think you'd dare take that arrogant attitude against me."
Victor still remembered. The look that worm before him had given when Guren fell to Saladin.
'Time to pay for that.'
"Brother, hold on. Just a sec. Isn't this a bit too blatant?"
"No idea what you mean. I just want to spar with my vastly improved little brother after so long."
Victor approached with an uncharacteristically gentle tone.
But his eyes were chilling, downright eerie.
"Though an 'accidental' mishap might happen along the way."
Even so, this was too abrupt.
"Brother, can you handle the fallout right now? No ogre means no excuse for an 'accident'—what are you gonna use?"
The reason I'd sought the ogre.
Victor must have had the same motive.
If someone else claimed it, the pretext for wounding each other vanished.
Whether it was me or him. The excuse of 'ogre attack'—that was the very foundation.
Yet here he was, brazenly drawing steel before even locating the ogre.
"Oh, don't worry about that."
Victor's lips split into a wide grin.
Snap!
Victor lightly snapped his fingers.
Booom!!
A massive explosion roared from the left woods, and a gigantic shadow burst into view.