Wildness and Masks

Chapter 2 - King of the Arena Ogre



"The 'Gourmet,' today's challenger might be a bit tricky."

The chubby, big-eared arena manager chuckled as he gave Ogre a heads-up.

Ogre was the mainstay of their apprentice-level arena, the one who came after the 'finale.'

The title of the Strongest Mortal wasn't something Ogre claimed for himself.

It was earned through countless battles.

It was a title given by those bored noble spectators who praised Ogre.

As a defender of this level, Ogre already had considerable privileges—after all, who would go against a money tree?

"Do you have any information?" Ogre asked in a low voice.

He wasn't proud of these false honors.

His victories came not only from his skills and experience but also from his caution.

Nowhere required more caution than the Demon Beast Forest.

Honor could bring him benefits, but it could also destroy him. In the arena, he was essentially no different from those crickets.

"An outlander apprentice," the fat manager shook his head, indicating there was no detailed information. "But definitely an apprentice level, probably a young master from another city out for fun."

At first, he didn't think much of Ogre, but this seemingly frail guy had consecutively defeated more than a dozen of their mainstays.

"So, what's the reward this time?" Ogre said, fiddling with the clasp of his mask. "Don't try to fool me with the usual stuff. If there's no information, the stakes must be high."

Ogre was essentially asking for his reward in advance. He knew that if the manager said it was tricky, they definitely didn't want him to lose.

If the other side's needs were exposed, it would be problematic not to leverage that.

In this line of work, it's all about benefits, and Ogre never believed in emotions forged through such ties.

Outlanders, huh?

Just the right opportunity to test his training results.

"How about this amount, eh?" The manager held up three chubby fingers.

"That's quite a lot, but I want something else." Ogre pretended to ponder for a moment before speaking. "Do you have a better Visualization Diagram or Meditation Technique?"

Over the past two years, Ogre had discovered to his surprise that meditation techniques or the visualization methods of Imagists could accelerate his 'digestion.'

Though he didn't know the principle, it was effective, and that was enough.

"A better meditation technique than what we gave you before... Tsk, that's not easy to come by." The fat manager showed a bit of difficulty.

However, this difficulty, like his smile, seemed somewhat fake.

"I remember there was an auction for something similar before. Don't tell me you didn't make a rubbing." Ogre didn't believe in their conscience.

Knowledge, like emotions, is both the most precious and the cheapest.

"Alright, fine, but..."

"I want it now," Ogre said, showing his confidence.

"Give it to him," a slightly authoritative voice commanded, a voice accustomed to giving orders.

Ogre turned his head slightly to see the source of the voice, which came from a chair.

It seemed this was the rumored boss.

'I should have asked for more...'

Soon, what Ogre needed was presented to him.

Basic meditation techniques and visualization diagrams were already very refined, so foundational things like these were harder to find—after all, those with talent wouldn't be stuck at this stage for long.

Usually, only those who strive for perfection would need them.

If it weren't for his ability needs, the basic techniques would have sufficed for Ogre.

"Withered Tree Revival Meditation"

'This name is a bit strange...' Ogre took the meditation technique and casually stuffed it into the inner layer of his leather armor.

"This meditation technique comes from the east, where they call it a mental technique," the fat manager casually explained. Meditation techniques from the east were indeed outstanding, and those with such names usually sold for quite a few gold coins.

As for whether it was genuine, that was up to one's own judgment.

However, Ogre felt that although they were stingy here, they wouldn't resort to forgery.

"I'll handle it. What profession are the apprentices?" Ogre asked.

Different professions of non-professionals had different combat strengths. At the apprentice level, the role of fists and weapons was significant, so knights were the strongest at this stage.

"A knight apprentice, and another seems to be a mage apprentice."

"I understand."

Ogre responded in a calm tone. At the apprentice level, he hadn't encountered a worthy opponent.

Most apprentices weren't even as good as ordinary armed goblin marauders, at least goblins would fight desperately.

Those with enough skills and background would have long trained to become professionals.

After Ogre left, the person behind the chair spoke again, "After this match, arrange for him to go to Meteor City. It's more suitable for him there."

"Yes."

***

"The next challenger is up against the Strongest Mortal—'Gourmet'!"

The host stirred up the atmosphere in the arena.

This so-called Strongest Mortal was actually no different from titles like the Divine Might General of crickets...

"Show these outlanders what you're made of, Gourmet!"

"King of the Arena! King of the Arena!"

Hidden behind his mask, Ogre calmly accepted the crowd's cheers, as his eyes were never on the audience but locked onto his opponent.

'Not even pretending...' Ogre observed the young knight opposite him, seeing a kind of ease that came from a privileged upbringing.

Beneath this ease, Ogre also saw confidence—a quality he usually only saw in well-fed magic lions.

No disguise, a relaxed expression.

If he's not a fool, then he must be truly capable...

Arrogance often requires strength.

"Strongest Mortal, huh? That's quite a boast. Let's see what you're made of." The knight in exquisite armor didn't seem to have the best manners.

'This should just be an accompanying squire...'

Ogre instinctively judged, then glanced at the mage apprentice standing below the stage.

If he guessed correctly.

The one behind might be the real opponent.

'This match is indeed a bit troublesome.'

Ogre didn't speak, just silently accepted the weapon handed to him by the arena squire.

He chose a staff, as it was the best weapon for not causing fatal injuries—it could even break armor.

This was also why Ogre was so popular; he knew how to control his strength, making battles with him less dangerous and more rewarding.

"Hmph, so you're a mute."

The knight across drew his Sword of Discipline for the duel.

He didn't perform the Knight’s Courtesy, indicating he didn't take Ogre seriously at all.

This action actually relieved Ogre.

As the host announced the start of the match.

Ogre was the first to launch an attack!


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