"Remember, ogres are incredibly stupid creatures. Even with both hands in front of their faces, few can count to ten."
"Their legs are their weak point, as they are for all giants." Lailas sketched the outline of an ogre on the paper and pointed her pen at its thick thighs. "But ogres know that too, so they often wrap their legs in layers of hide or bone."
The illustration was lifelike. Clearly, the half-elf knew ogre anatomy very well.
In their room at Fragrant Words, Renato had originally intended to ask for information about Baron Atwood. Yet as they talked, the conversation had somehow turned into a lesson on wilderness monsters.
"So you recommend attacking the head?"
"The eyes, to be precise." Seeing Renato's casual expression, Lailas tapped her pen against the table. "Don't underestimate ogres. I've seen plenty of arrogant warriors think their heavy armor could protect them from anything, only to be crushed to pulp by a stone maul."
"Don't you want to become a ranger? Dealing with wilderness monsters is a required lesson."
Ogres. In the Northern Empire, the last ogre had been killed by a family of imperial hunters two hundred years ago. In the south, they had died out somewhat later, but by now they had all but vanished there too.
Renato was rather at a loss for words.
"But where would you even find an ogre these days? They disappeared from the south thirty years ago. Even the latest edition of the Monster Guide doesn't include them anymore."
"Aren't there rumors of an ogre tribe in the Western Wastes? Who knows when those monsters might come back?"
Clearly, the half-elf did not believe that herself. She put down her pen and rubbed her brow.
"Never mind. Start meditating. Let me see how well you've