Ogre (1)
Orc evolution was on the extremely slow side. Unlike goblins or hobgoblins, which evolved when dozens gathered together, it took hundreds of orcs to produce one. But no one could deny just how powerful they became. A monster harboring tremendous strength within a body as massive as a giant's. The creature known as an ogre was unleashing that might without restraint.
"Kraaaargh!!!"
The massive lizard and the ogre clashed head-on.
A drake. A dragon without wings. A monster counted among the strongest land-dwelling creatures. Such a beast collided full-force with the ogre.
Boom!!!
The impact alone unleashed a powerful shockwave, sending not just goblins but hobgoblins tumbling backward. Yet the ogre and drake that caused it stood firm, neither yielding an inch. A deadlock of nearly equal power. The drake pushed against the ground with all four legs, while the ogre braced on two. Despite the difference in stance, the ogre was holding its own against the drake's strength.
Was the ogre's pure muscular power simply superior? The drake was larger, with a lower center of gravity and four legs for stability—logically, it should have the advantage in a contest of raw strength. But...
Amid this tense struggle, the drake suddenly reared its head high and spat a fireball from its maw. The ogre, caught off guard, hurriedly rolled aside to dodge. The missed fireball incinerated some nearby orcs and goblins—a minor mishap—but the ogre never took its eyes off the drake.
Unlike true dragons, drakes had a limited number of breaths per day, and the ogre glared warily, on guard against another. Even as the scorching fireball grazed past it, the ogre showed no sign of agony. Had evolution granted it resistance to flames? Or was it simply refusing to show weakness before a formidable foe? Either way, it reeked of something extraordinary.
The drake attacked with teeth, claws, and tail, but the ogre calmly and nimbly evaded, countering with punches. Each blow from the two monsters—packing enough force to shatter boulders—kept the fight dead even.
No matter how the ogre's fists could pulverize rock, they couldn't pierce the drake's scales. Hell, the fact that pummeling those scales with bare knuckles left them unscathed already marked it as beyond normal biology. The drake, too, failed to land any real damage on the ogre. For all its bulk, the ogre moved with startling agility, reading and dodging every assault with composure.
Their mutual failure to land a solid hit dragged on through several more exchanges until the drake finally retreated a step. A drake that could raze a city and devour its inhabitants whole had been forced back by a single ogre. Of course, the ogre couldn't capture it either...
From the ogre's perspective, driving off the drake was victory enough.
Watching the drake vanish into the distance, the ogre bellowed triumphantly once it was gone.
"Kraaaargh!!"
Like a kaiju from the movies, roaring to the heavens. The orcs cheered wildly alongside it, hobgoblins staggered in exhaustion, and goblins fainted outright from the ogre's roar. Sighing softly at the greenskins' display, I couldn't help but consider the devastation that monster would wreak.
The right thing to do would be to intervene now and eliminate it. But...
After witnessing the ogre brawl toe-to-toe with a drake, one thought had crept into my mind. What if I used that ogre? It could serve as a powerful warning to humanity. A clear demonstration that failing to cull goblins in time leads to catastrophes like this.
Many would die. Villages and cities would crumble. Countless deep sorrows. The pain of lost families. Was my empathy for such things... dulled somewhat? Even so, I couldn't deny the appeal of letting the ogre engrave that lesson.
Even at the cost of all that death and destruction, the idea of using the ogre as a warning filled my thoughts. What should I do? The faint shred of humanity left in me screamed to stop it, but my mind insisted it was the better path.
Which to follow? The lingering humanity in my heart? Or ignore it and proceed? Gazing down at the greenskin kingdom, lost in thought, a voice spoke from beside me.
"So that's the monster the rumors are buzzing about."
"Shamash."
"Yes, that's it."
A golden-haired beauty who had appeared out of nowhere, smiling brightly. Shamash.
"For something born from those tiny green molds clumping together, it's impressively strong. To think it could go toe-to-toe with that drake."
"Mm. It is strong."
Excluding outlandish creatures like dragons, no land-bound beast rivaled the drake in power. Holding its own against one spoke volumes about the ogre's might.
"If it's that strong... wouldn't humans be helpless against it?"
"Can't deny the strength, but helpless? Nah."
Humanity wouldn't crumble so easily. There'd be heavy losses, sure, but they'd prevail somehow.
"That's why those mold bastards are humanity's problem to solve."
"For someone saying that, your face is full of worry."
Full of worry? I instinctively touched my cheek. Was I worried? About humans? Even with my emotions faded, was I still concerned for them? Hard to say. But Shamash—one of the kids who'd watched over me for ages—her words rang true.
"If you're that worried, couldn't we offer a little help?"
"A little help...?"
"Yeah. We just need to show off that ogre's strength, right?"
I nodded slightly at Shamash's words. Humanity needed a warning now. And not every warning required mass death.
"So, pit it against someone pretty strong, let them have a close fight, then smash the ogre. Easy."
"Someone pretty strong... It's a bit tight on time to summon a new hero..."
"No need for a hero. There's a perfect guy wandering the world right now."
"Perfect guy?"
Shamash grinned.
"Bigger and stronger than that ogre... the black rock giant."
"You're talking about Talos."
"Yep! I heard he's on vacation, traveling the world. Extend his leave a bit, give him a job—done."
Talos, huh. Yeah, Talos could pulverize hordes of those ogres. Might be overkill, but with his intelligence, he'd hold back and follow orders if I asked for a fair fight. Sounded good. Let Talos handle the ogre, and humans could mop up the goblins and orcs. More survivors that way.
"Those mold bastards... they share a lot of traits with the humans living on the surface."
"Traits?"
"Yeah."
Shamash pointed at the tiny goblins.
"Those little ones... they really resemble rat beastkin. Small, obsessed with food, popping out litters like crazy."
"Hmm... maybe? But they're way weaker individually than rat beastkin."
"Hobgoblins look like regular humans."
I nodded. True enough—hobgoblins matched humans in build, muscle, and smarts.
"Orcs... beastkin? Nah, too strong for that... closer to lizardmen?"
"Don't insult lizardmen like that."
Comparing orcs to lizardmen? Apologize to them! Not just because they're devoted followers of mine, but they're genuinely much stronger. Way stronger.
"Roughly speaking, somewhere between strong beastkin and lizardmen."
A bit tougher than ox or wild boar beastkin? Individual variation's huge, but on average...
"And that ogre. Same build as a giant."
"Fair. Might even have superior physical strength."
Giants weren't weak, but the ogre's display was unforgettable. No giant could slug it out head-on with a drake.
"Greenskins mimicking humans everywhere except elves under Yggdrasil's protection and dwarves under Sagarmata... coincidence?"
I shook my head slightly at Shamash's words. Whoever made those greenskins had clearly cribbed from surface humanity. Bootleg copies, pirated illegally. Infuriating.
