The Green Ogre

"Grrrr..."

The Green Ogre rumbled low in its throat.

Open fury and fighting spirit smoldered in its eyes, as if it were scolding me for the insolence of still standing after a single blow.

"Graaah!"

Then it roared — a voice like a blast, loud enough to shake the ground — and the enormous rock sword in its grip came swinging again. A horizontal cut tore across the earth like a gale. I barely knocked it aside, and at once a lightning slash came crashing down from above.

On this battlefield the Green Ogre's strength was simply overwhelming. Even with an elixir in me, a head-on contest was impossible. Let a single attack land, and my body would be split in two.

But I did not give an inch before it. I didn't need to.

"—!"

The furious cuts poured in, and the air split with one cracking report after another. A green sword-wind raged as if it meant to pulverize everything in its path. Yet the storm broke against the small reef that was me, and could not push a step farther.

Clang!

Once more the blade's path twisted, and it carved nothing but empty air.

"Guh..."

At last a note of confusion slipped from the Green Ogre's mouth, as though it could not understand how a small, fat human was still taking its sword this far.

But this was a fight I knew by heart. Even in my hunter days, the higher monsters I faced almost always outclassed me in raw physical ability. They were creatures never born of human seed. No matter how far into the superhuman one climbed, crushing such things by strength, stamina, or toughness was close to impossible. That was why hunters — myself among them — needed technique: a way to shed force we could not withstand, to gnaw little by little at foes that never tired, to cut hides that were tough and thick.

Of course, fighting on technique alone meant every instant was a walk along a wire. Let the angle of the sword slip by a hair, or the timing lag by a breath, and death followed at once. But that razor-thin fight was all I had ever known, and until now I had always survived it.

Which was why—

Clang!

—there was no way a mere monster could ever read a sword path like mine.

"Graaaaaah!"

A savage howl shook the ground again. The cry was threatening, and yet somewhere in it a strange impatience had taken root. By instinct, the thing felt Edwin closing in — an enemy that could actually stand against it. And that impatience turned at once into motion.

It seized the rock sword in both hands and unleashed a slash too fast for the eye to follow.

Whoosh!

Its blows had already been overwhelming. This one, driven with everything it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had, was fiercer still.

I met it.

Clang!

A clear ring of steel, and I knocked the blow aside once more. Beyond the rock sword as it reeled away, the ogre's face filled my vision, slack with shock. In that splinter of time, an opening showed itself.

That was the chance I had been waiting for.

I savored the look on its face and drove my Aura Core to the absolute limit. The murky, blood-red aura flared even more ominously, writhing like hungry flame.

Thud!

I kicked off the ground and brought the sword up. The Green Ogre, already thrown off balance when its great attack was stopped, had no way to block me. Into that gap, I extended the blade.

Slash!

A chilling flash sheared clean through the monster's hide. Its right arm, thick as a great log, snapped off midway and dropped to the earth.

"Gyaaah!"

The Green Ogre screamed, raw and wretched, and I clicked my tongue. In truth I had aimed for the neck. It had reacted in the instant before the blade landed, and so I took the arm instead.

"Huff... haah..."

Only then did my breath catch up with me. The aura wrapped around the sword guttered out in a heartbeat. The mana I had wrung to its limit had finally run dry.

It didn't matter. This far, and no farther, had been the role given to me.

"Brother!"

Edwin shouted it as he arrived at last. Behind him came the other knights, fresh from smashing the orc pack. He stared at me with a face more stunned than the one he turned on the groaning, one-armed ogre, his lips working as if he had no idea what to say.

But I was not what Edwin needed to worry about just now.

"Deal with that thing first!"

"Aaaaaah!"

The armless ogre went mad with pain and rage and began to thrash. Edwin snapped back to himself, his expression hardening, and aura gathered along his sword — unlike mine, a clear, limpid sky blue. Then, without hesitation, he charged the one-armed beast.

Thud!

With only a single arm left, the ogre did not last long. Edwin's sword took its neck, and it collapsed where it stood. It must have been the last of the demons. For a moment, silence brushed across the battlefield.

A soldier's shout broke it.

"W-we won!"

"Victory is ours!"

The soldiers who had survived raised their voices with his, and the razor tension of the fight began to unwind.

"......"

Only Edwin kept his eyes on me, and there was nothing ordinary in that look.

Duke Kaiser's office.

"...That is all."

Edwin bowed his head and brought the report to a close.

The result was victory — and a perfect one at that, with casualties not even a quarter of what had been expected. Yet the face of the man who had just delivered the news of triumph was far from bright. Duke Kaiser's gaze shifted to the knights who had entered with Edwin.

"Is everything he said true?"

"...There is no mistake."

"I can scarcely believe it myself, but Young Master Lucas's exploits were nothing short of a heroic stand."

One after another, the knights testified that Edwin's report held no lie. Only their expressions, much like their commander's, were shadowed with the same unease. Kaiser frowned.

"So you are telling me it is true. Lucas went in as an ordinary knight, bought time against a Green Ogre, and in the end cut off one of its arms — a decisive share of the credit for bringing the thing down."

"...Yes."

At their firm answer, Kaiser let out a low sound, and a deep crease settled between his brows.

From the moment Lucas, after being taught the mental art, had formed an Aura Core in a mere week, he had suspected there was something to the boy. He had even allowed himself a thread of hope that Lucas might be of some real use in this battle. But never to this degree.

Lucas was a one-star knight, and nothing more — a fledgling who had only just begun to handle aura. Kaiser had expected, at best, the showing of an apprentice. Instead the merit he had earned was something even a proper knight would be hard-pressed to achieve. It was, in a word, heroic.

"Edwin."

So he turned his eyes back to his son.

"What of it, as you saw it yourself? Did you... sense anything from Lucas?"

Edwin hesitated, then answered with care.

"...I don't know."

"You don't know?"

Edwin called up the Lucas he had seen standing before the Green Ogre.

"It's certain Brother showed more strength than anyone expected. But... it isn't simply a matter of his skill having improved."

The way he slipped the ogre's attacks, the exactness of the cuts he laid into every opening, and the boldness that never flinched even before a monster bristling with killing intent — Edwin added that Lucas had been like a mercenary who had already survived battlefield after battlefield.

"That was not the brother I knew. What in the world happened while I was away?"

Kaiser had no answer for that. It was the very question he wanted to ask himself.

"...A fateful encounter, was it."

He recalled what Walter had said. Walter suspected Lucas had met with some fortune out in the world, and that the encounter had been enough to turn his heart. But the feat before them now could not be explained by that alone. Finding no answer, Kaiser only shook his head once.

"That will do for the report. The rest of you, go and rest. You've worked hard."

With that he dismissed the knights and Edwin. They withdrew with a salute, and the office door closed again.

In the quiet over his desk, Kaiser narrowed his eyes.

Has the boy finally changed...?

Of course that was what he had wanted, both as a father and as the head of the ducal house. He had simply never imagined the change would come so sudden, and so impossible to grasp. Above all else, contributing to the hunt of a Green Ogre at the level of a one-star knight was not something a man did merely by learning a fine sword art.

"...He wouldn't have been hiding his skill."

Lucas had no reason to. And even if he had, Kaiser himself — let alone the retainers — could not possibly have failed to notice. Then the answer was only one.

Talent.

It was true that Lucas had taken up the sword only a little while ago, after that fateful encounter. And yet the only possibility Kaiser could reach was this: that in the wastrel of an eldest son, a gift from heaven had been sleeping all along.

"Ha... well."

A hollow laugh escaped him.

"Am I meant to rejoice that a genius has been born, or else..."

Kaiser let out a breath and stared through the window. Contrary to the tangle inside him, the clear sky poured down nothing but sunlight.

Some time later.

In my room at the ducal residence, I was checking the quest window. The emergency quest had ordered me to slay the Green Ogre. Edwin had landed the finishing blow, but perhaps because I had kept the thing pinned in place, the quest had been safely marked complete. The reward was a single purple book.

The name alone made plain what the item was. Use it, and it would grant me one skill chosen at random from among the Rare (R) skills.

A Rare-grade skill isn't all that high a tier, but...

There was no need to be disappointed. If it came out as something defensive, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠or a buff, even a low grade would still be useful in its own way.

"Might as well use it now."

No point in putting it off. I used the skill book at once, and a new screen appeared. Against a backdrop like a library with every shelf packed full, countless skill books wheeled through the air.

The flying books didn't seem to have names written on them, so I picked one that looked decent enough.

And then—

"Oh?"

A message I hadn't expected appeared. In Crius Saga, Luck was a stat that touched certain draws, item drops, and events, just like this. When it applied to a skill draw, you sometimes received a skill one grade higher — or a scarce hidden skill. My own Luck was still sitting at its base value of F, so I hadn't hoped for anything. I never thought the effect would show itself here.

Insight?

Judging by the fact that I didn't know the skill, it seemed to be one of the hidden ones. But the description left it feeling a little ambiguous. Being able to read a target's status window was not bad in itself.

Among monsters there were often special individuals with unusual powers, and if I could read their windows, I might shut down a variable before it became a problem. But it only worked on those of the same level or below. In the end, wasn't this a skill that wouldn't function properly against a truly strong foe? Why had something like this appeared with Luck applied on top?

"...Doesn't seem like that good a skill."

I had just tilted my head when a voice came from beyond the door.

"Young Master."

It was Walter. I dismissed the window in front of me and looked up.

"What is it?"

"As you instructed, the sparring has been prepared."

"Ah, right."

Was it that time already? I set thoughts of the skill aside for the moment, left ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the room, and headed for the training ground.

Going there every morning was nothing new. But after the Green Ogre hunt, a small change had crept into the routine. I no longer went to the private ground where I did nothing but run. I went to the one the apprentice knights used.

Even this early, the place was bustling with them.

"Good morning, sir!"

Among them, Greg bowed his head when he saw me, then came over with a bright face.

"You're here again today."

"The sparring's been quite a help."

After we returned from the last operation, Greg had asked me to spar. At first I accepted partly to take the measure of the apprentice knights' mood — and wouldn't you know it, the sparring had an effect I hadn't expected.

The growth is faster this way.

Hunting the Green Ogre had pushed my stats well past thirty, and they no longer received the effect of the Elixir of Growth. The ways left to raise them were hunting monsters or running, but the first wasn't something I could do whenever I pleased, and the second was far too slow.

I had been wondering what to do next when I confirmed that sparring with Greg was treated as a kind of combat. The bouts alone raised my stats at a respectable pace. Even if it was only practice, I had a reason of my own to take it seriously.

"It's the same for me. Sparring with you, Young Master, I can actually feel myself improving by leaps and bounds."

Greg answered like that. Even among the apprentices, he was a swordsman with considerable promise. He was not without his rough edges yet, but every flaw I pointed out in one bout, he came back having cleaned away by the next. The growth was visible even to my eye, so it was no wonder he felt it himself. Still, I added a jab on purpose.

"You lose every single time. Are you actually getting ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠any better?"

"Only until today. From now on, I won't lose."

Greg set his stance.

"Here I come!"

"Yeah. Come on."

A sharp presence rose at once.

Whoosh!

A wooden sword cut the air and flew in. Yesterday he had only probed, then eaten one of my blows and gone down, and it must have stuck in his craw. Today was the exact opposite — a swift first strike. He even seemed determined to end it with the opening blow, because a bold horizontal cut came the moment we began. I couldn't call the judgment or the speed bad.

"Ease the strength in that shoulder."

Had his eagerness run out ahead of him? A sword should always stay supple, but Greg's flash was so rigid it had gone stiff.

"Agh!"

I slipped it lightly, and my sword tapped the crown of his head. Greg toppled backward.

"Reset your stance. This time I'll—"

I was about to carry the bout on when I felt someone nearby. I turned my head. Several apprentice knights were standing there.

"What?"

The faces were familiar. They were the ones who had been with me on the last operation — and the ones who, for days now, had glared at Greg's sparring with me as if they were standing watch.

"...Young Master."

The tallest of them spoke for the rest. Their discomfort had its roots in Lucas's past. Every one of them had been tormented by him, or humiliated. Lucas had once struck one of them across the back of the head and cackled that it was only a joke.

He had poured scorn on them for failing to bring back a single measly demon, and told them they weren't fit to be knights. So I braced for them to pick some quarrel and try to drive me out of this training ground.

That wasn't it.

"Might we spar with you as well, Young Master?"

They were asking me for a bout, fair and square.