Chapter 28 – The Fall of the Ogres
The moment his grip tightened on the hilt, Ethan's blade aligned perfectly with his body. In a flash of inhuman speed, he exploded forward — the air splitting with a sharp whoosh.
The ogre, towering and thick-skinned, blinked in shock at the blur closing in. It fumbled to raise its weapon — not a club, but a massive, rusted wheel axle which lay beside, thick enough to crush stone. The jagged metal ends screeched against MC's blade as it managed to intercept the strike, lessening the blow but still staggering under the force.
Ethan didn't pause. From the void of his inventory, a gleaming dagger materialized in his off-hand. In one ruthless motion, he plunged it straight into the ogre's right eye.
The beast howled — a guttural, ear-rattling scream — jerking back in panic. The wheel axle slipped from its grip and thudded heavily into the dirt. Before it could even think to retreat, Ethan's other hand was already reaching into the unseen. Another dagger flickered into reality. With every ounce of his strength, he drove it deep into the ogre's thick neck.
A horrible choking gurgle escaped as it staggered, massive hands clawing at the wound. It swayed… stumbled… and finally collapsed, clutching its blood-soaked throat until the last twitch faded.
> System Notification: Ogre slain.
Single handedly High-Level Kill Bonus ×2
+2000 XP
MC blinked. Two… thousand? That was far more than he'd ever earned from a single kill before. Wait— that's almost enough to push me a whole level… just for one monster? What the hell was that thing's level? His lips curled into a slight grin despite the blood on his hands. If I can take down more of these…
Shaking off the thought, he straightened up and turned toward the real threat — the mutated ogre looming over the battlefield like a nightmare given flesh.
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Across the field, the last of the ordinary ogres facing the B-ranked adventurers gave a final roar before collapsing under a combined assault. Without wasting a heartbeat, the two B-rankers pivoted, charging toward the mutated monstrosity that had been tearing through their comrades.
Ethan stayed on the fringe, his hand hovering over his blade. This wasn't his fight. He watched, calculating, waiting for that perfect moment. Arrows of crackling mana began to form in his mind's grasp.
The mutated ogre's swings were brutal, each strike shaking the ground as the B-rankers weaved just out of reach. One slashed at its leg, the other striking its arm in perfect coordination. Still, the beast's unnatural resilience kept it moving, its roars growing more savage. It slammed its massive fist into the ground, forcing them both to dodge, then lunged with terrifying speed, nearly grabbing one of them by the torso.
Steel clanged, magic flared, and blood — both red and black — streaked the dirt. Ethan loosed several mana arrows into the fray, striking the monster's shoulder and thigh, slowing it down just enough for the B-rankers to keep pressing.
Finally, with a final, enraged roar, the mutated ogre staggered backward… straight toward Ethan's position.
The chance he'd been waiting for.
Ethan surged forward, longsword raised high. The edge caught the dying sunlight, gleaming like judgment itself. In one decisive motion, he brought it down — burying the blade through the thick skull and deep into the brain.
The monster shuddered once, then went still.
> System Notification: Mutated Ogre slain (Assist).
+650 XP
Ethan smirked faintly, wiping his blade clean. Not bad… even scraps from a monster like that are worth more than some full kills.
Meanwhile in route 1
Max's voice cut through the chaos of battle like a whip.
"You bitch! Do you only know how to hold the legs of another man?!" he shouted toward Lirael, his eyes burning with frustration as another of her arrows failed to sink deep into the ogre's thick hide.
Lirael's bowstring thrummed again, her shot striking true — but only burying halfway before the monster's muscle stopped it cold. She didn't flinch at his words, her expression barely changing. Same as always… she thought, loosing another arrow. He's been like this since the day they joined. Best to keep my head down and let my work speak for itself.
Max gritted his teeth, tightening his grip on his sword. With a grunt, he threw himself into the fray, weaving between the ogre's sweeping arm to hack at its exposed side. He gathered every ounce of strength into his arms and swung, the blade slicing through tough muscle with a satisfying shhk!
Then— crack.
He froze for the briefest second. The sound wasn't from the ogre.
…Shit. Pain flared up his forearm. Why are my attacks strong, but my damn body can't handle them? Is it because of this damn CONSTITUTION stat? He grit his teeth harder, parrying a counterstrike. Fuck… I don't even have any spare points left to fix it.
Before the ogre could retaliate, another figure darted in — Alex, spear in hand. His movements were sharp and precise, thrusting into the ogre's thigh before sweeping to knock its leg off balance, then deflecting a blow with the steel shaft in one smooth motion.
A flash of movement blurred in from the side — Aina. The assassin-like dagger wielder slipped past the ogre's reach in a heartbeat, striking a tendon before vanishing back into the fray, her speed making her hard to track.
Overhead, a crackling wave of heat and light slammed into the ogre's shoulder — Maya's magic, her aim precise enough to scorch the creature's exposed flesh. Each spell hit just as the others attacked, keeping the beast's focus split.
When Max's earlier remark reached Aina and Maya's ears, both women's expressions darkened. They knew exactly how important Lirael's shots were. For a D-ranked adventurer, piercing an ogre's muscle at all was an achievement. She was pulling her weight — more than many could in her place.
Nearby, another party exchanged glances, frowning. They couldn't understand what else Max wanted from her. It was obvious he wasn't offering critique — just cruelty.
The fight dragged on until the ogre finally fell, collapsing under their combined assault. Max sheathed his sword with a grimace, the dull ache in his arm reminding him of the crack he'd heard earlier.
He uncorked a health potion and downed it in long gulps, then reached for another.
"Frontline work wrecks the body," he muttered, taking most of the remaining potion for himself before anyone could argue. "I need it more than the rest of you."
No one said anything — but the looks exchanged around him said plenty.
Just as Max finished wiping ogre blood off his blade, a figure in silver-edged leather stepped forward from a nearby party. A tall, confident swordswoman, flanked by two other women — one with a finely strung longbow resting casually on her shoulder, and another with the lithe, restless movements of a thief-scout hybrid.
They didn't spare Max or Alex a glance. In fact, they walked right past them as if the two men didn't exist.
Instead, the swordswoman stopped directly in front of Maya, Aina, and Lirael. Her sharp gaze swept over them with a mix of approval and calculation.
"We saw how those two scums treat you," she said bluntly, jerking her chin toward Max and Alex. "It's a waste. An assassin and a magic caster like you two would make our lives a hell of a lot easier."
Her tone warmed slightly for Maya and Aina — but when her eyes landed on Virael, the shift was subtle. The offer was there, but without the same enthusiasm.
"You too, archer. We could use another ranged set of eyes…"
The thief-scout stepped forward, pulling a rolled parchment from her belt.
"Only thing is," she said, "there's the party binding contract. Standard guild rule. If you leave your registered party, you either pay one gold coin to break it or you get slapped with a guild penalty."
Aina frowned. "We know that, but we can't pay"
"Not hard," the bowwoman said easily. "We can help you make that in this raid alone. Then you can join us."
The implication hung in the air — a hand extended toward two of them… and one half-extended toward the third.
While Maya and Aina exchanged interested glances, Lirael's mind drifted somewhere else entirely. Ethan… why did that man feel different? she thought, remembering the way his presence had struck her during their brief encounter earlier.
She shook her head slightly, biting the inside of her cheek. What am I even thinking? It's not like he'd take me into his party. From what I've heard, he's an Awakener — his growth is insane. Someone like him would never take someone like me.
She drew in a slow breath, forcing her attention back to the swordswoman's offer… though a small, stubborn ember of that earlier thought refused to go out.