Ogre

"How many years has it been since your... donkey cart was last washed?" Punk asked, almost holding his breath as he sat on the edge of the cart.

"Having a cart to use is good enou~gh. What, was this fussy mage lord born in a pile of spices or something?"

Kane sat cross-legged in the cart, openly chewing through the stored jerky. His lance hung from the railing within easy reach.

The two travelers had already left Moke Village and were on the road to Konola City. Punk could not be bothered arguing with this guy right now. He was concentrating on practicing a Divination Spell, hoping to avoid dangers such as undead as much as possible.

They had set out at dawn. At this time, the smaller sun, Mira, had risen more than halfway above the horizon, while the larger sun, Chikasa, was still below it.

Crossing the small wasteland would take about five days. The baron had packed the necessary supplies into burlap sacks and loaded them onto a wooden cart so old that fungus had grown on it. Then, under Punk's speechless gaze and Kane's helpless one, he led out a... little donkey!

The baron seemed somewhat embarrassed, but he still smiled and said,

"A Red-eared Donkey, a specialty of the Kingdom of Kamos. Hardworking and obedient."

Although in Faerûn, horses, one of the common people's "weapons" of war, could be called the most expensive of all livestock, nobles as poor as this baron, without even a single horse, were still quite rare.

Punk had inspected the donkey then. He had indeed seen a tuft of red fur on the tip of its ears, making it look somewhat adorably foolish. The little donkey pawed at the ground with its hooves, looking eager to work, but Punk still felt that this broken cart paired with such a dopey donkey did not look like a combination capable of crossing a wasteland.

Now that he was sitting on the donkey cart, Punk sincerely believed that there was an eighty percent chance he, rather than the donkey, would fail to cross the wasteland. The strange stench coming from the beast made it seem less like a donkey and more like a walking pile of dung. Punk nearly had the urge to hit it with a Minor Telekinetic Projectile.

But without the donkey, they would have to travel on foot all the way to Konola City. So Punk had no choice but to ignore the strange smell as best he could.

Kane, on the other hand, was thick-skinned. Even with his head pointed straight at the donkey's rear, he did not care in the slightest as he chewed jerky in huge bites.

"Say... are you mages... gulp... always this unwilling... to talk?" Kane swallowed the chunk of meat in his mouth and took a savage swig of ale.

Punk did not even glance at him. Sitting on the side edge of the cart and keeping himself as far upwind as possible, he pulled out a parchment map the baron had given him from his robe pocket.

The parchment had yellowed and curled at the edges with age. It showed a rough map of the Kingdom of Kamos. The kingdom itself was tiny. This small wasteland lay along the edge of its territory, bordering the Biaren Mountains to the west. More than thirty villages around Moke Village stood at the boundary between the mountains and the wasteland. At the far end of the wasteland was a river called the Beberlo River, and Konola City had been built beside it.

Punk ultimately concluded that a remote frontier wasteland like this was the perfect place for evil people to plot evil schemes and establish evil bases.

But Punk only wanted to stay far away. He did not even possess Journeyman Level strength yet. Whether some evil organization wanted to destroy the world or steal lollipops from children, neither was any of his business.

Kane showed no concern for such matters. After getting nowhere with Punk, he turned his attention back to eliminating the jerky and ale. The way he tore into the jerky made it seem as though he had a personal grudge against it. Punk had already figured it out: this knight was another person who only swept the snow from his own doorstep and ignored the frost on others' roofs. At best, his alignment was Lawful Neutral, though judging from how his words and actions had nothing to do with "knightly spirit," Punk guessed he was Chaotic Neutral.

"Hup!" Kane flipped off the donkey cart in a leap, startling the little donkey into snorting. He stretched lazily, then bounced along beside the cart.

At that moment, Punk was casting an Apprentice Level divination spell on the map—Sense the Road Ahead. The spell could detect whether danger lay on the road ahead, though the information it provided was rather vague.

The spell's information appeared in Punk's mind, and his pupils contracted sharply. He hurriedly replenished the energy of his Minor Mage Armor. Such enhancement spells generally lasted around twenty minutes. (Note: no more than three identical enhancement spells could usually be stacked, or their magical energies could easily conflict.) But Punk normally recharged the spell on himself every ten minutes to keep its duration as close to maximum as possible. He was recharging it again before ten minutes had passed because the divination had shown that "a threatening large creature" was on the road ahead, though it gave no indication of how far away it was.

"Hey, Kane, my Divination Spell found something big. We might need to change course."

As he warned Kane, Punk closed his eyes and carefully sensed the vague information from the divination, seeking to glean a little more intelligence.

"Does this big thing you mentioned have crimson skin, stand over three meters tall, and have a horn growing from its head?" Kane asked in a rather strange tone.

"Apprentice Level divination is somewhat vague, I..." Punk opened his eyes and looked up, stunned. Thanks to the extraordinary eyesight granted by his Ranger Level 2, he could clearly see an ogre seven or eight hundred meters away roaring happily at having found food.

"...Now I can tell you. Yes."

"Fuck! What kind of divination is that?!" Kane was clearly dissatisfied with Punk's hindsight prophecy.

But Punk did not argue with him. He recalled what he knew about ogres. These brutal monsters that loved human flesh had thick skin with considerable resistance to magic, monstrous strength capable of crushing rocks with ease, vitality nearly equivalent to regenerating limbs, and a... stupid brain. Once grown, ogres generally possessed three Fighter Levels. Their natural strength and thick skin gave them power no weaker than the peak Apprentice Level, equivalent to a Level 4 fighter. Though their low intelligence made major advancement difficult, they were still troublesome enemies at the Apprentice stage.

And now, this ogre, which had been hunting, had clearly spotted the "tasty snack" in the distance. Carrying a huge club taller than a person, it strode menacingly toward Punk and Kane.

"So, are we fighting or are we fighting? Anyway, if you expect me to just... leave... the... donkey... behind and run, I'm going to be super~ pissed."

Kane spun his lance in his hand, his armored fingers striking its shaft with ringing clangs. He placed particular emphasis on the words "leave the donkey behind."

Without the donkey, which was good at traveling across grasslands, the time needed to leave the wasteland would double. Punk understood that clearly, so he had no intention of abandoning the donkey to avoid the ogre. Still... Punk glanced at Kane and thought, Could this guy not beat around the bush when he talks?

Punk showed no unnecessary expression. He calmly returned the map to his robe pocket, picked up the staff lying in the cart, then lightly jumped down from the donkey cart.

"If we're fighting, then draw that monster away. At least get it farther from your little sweetheart donkey!"

After saying that, Punk cast Lesser Haste on himself and charged toward the right side of the ogre's path.

"Fuck!"

Kane fiercely raised a middle finger at Punk's retreating back, then took long strides after him anyway.

Please bookmark and recommend! New author asking for support! The next chapter will feature a big battle with the ogre!