Ogre Cub

Perhaps it was because they lived in a mountain village, where opportunities to encounter true formidable foes were rare?

“I thought I was raising a tiger cub, sharpening its claws, but it turned out to be an *ogre's offspring*.”

Even Godfrey, who prided himself on his vast experience, had failed to accurately gauge his Disciple’s limits.

Meanwhile, Homi ran over with a handkerchief, her face composed. Her faith in her Liege Lord moved in only one direction.

If she discovered a magnificent side of him she hadn't known before, she would simply accept it with new joy, not surprise.

*It worked?*

Eugene looked down at the club he still gripped tightly. He had been so tense facing a monster he'd never seen before that even now, after victory, his hands wouldn't unclench.

Yet, even when confronted by the ferocious charge, the thought of fleeing never crossed his mind for some reason.

Prey. Devour it.

It felt as if an inner voice was whispering to him.

Just then, Homi's bolt struck the beast, blinding one of its eyes and diverting its attention.

That dispelled the last lingering hesitation within Eugene, allowing him to charge.

With each step forward, he felt an immense power, one he had never used before, being unleashed. His true strength, dormant in the face of mortal danger, had awakened.

The result was the Monster Boar’s carcass, embedded below and kicking up a cloud of dust.

“It’s alright. No injuries, and you didn’t even break a sweat.”

Homi carefully wiped his forehead and offered him a waterskin. Instead of drinking, Eugene poured water over his hands.

Thud!

As the cool water soaked in, his fingers, stiff from tension, relaxed, and the weapon fell to the ground.

He had gripped and swung it so hard that the handle was shattered, and the body had multiple cracks.

“Can’t use this anymore.”

Eugene, drinking water with a sigh of regret, suddenly let out a groan of realization.

“What’s wrong?” “Now there’s no proof I completed the mission. How will I prove it to the Monastery?”

He had accomplished a far greater feat than originally intended, but the evidence lay at the bottom of the cliff.

Already, wolves, drawn by the scent of blood, had emerged and were tearing at the young boar. They seemed too afraid to touch the mother yet.

Grrr-!

True to the inhabitants of the Marchen Forest, they were larger than ordinary wolves. The one that appeared to be the leader looked up at Eugene on the cliff, wary.

Tap, tap.

Homi tapped Eugene’s shoulder.

Suddenly

She held up one of the mother boar’s tusks, having picked it up at some point. It seemed to have broken off when he crushed its skull earlier.

“This should be enough.”

Godfrey took it and nodded. Though small for a female, it was incomparably larger than an ordinary male boar.

The resourceful Homi had already wiped away the blood and saliva from the tusk.

“She’s too good a Squire for you, you brute with a club.” “With all due respect, Master, if your sword had merely pricked it, it would have only enraged the beast.” “If only you couldn’t talk back.”

Godfrey tossed the tusk to Eugene.

“Where do you think a monster like that suddenly came from?” “I don’t know. It’s not the kind of creature that should appear in a backwater like this.”

The group looked towards the endless western forest. In the vast domain of the Demon Realm, nothing that emerged would be considered strange.

“We should warn the villagers who go into the mountains. Even a few more young ones would be dangerous.”

“There won’t be any more young ones. Ordinary beasts are prolific, but creatures closer to monsters bear few offspring. One is common, two are rare.”

Seeing the pack of wolves slowly approaching the mother’s carcass, the group turned back.

* * *

Homi packed a bottle of honey, dried fruit, and jerky for Eugene. She waved goodbye until he was out of sight.

Godfrey crossed his arms at her devoted display.

“You’re truly blessed, you rascal.”

“I think so too.”

“Most Knights only care about the warhorses they ride, but I think differently. A good Squire is a more valuable asset to a Knight than any horse.”

When we entered the village, the atmosphere was unusually boisterous.

“What’s going on?”

Eugene stopped a passing farmer and asked.

“Oh, sirs! They say the Monastery caught a Vampire!”

They looked human, but their skin was pale, their body temperature cold, and they drank blood.

Their physical abilities surpassed those of humans, but not overwhelmingly so. They didn't burn in sunlight or fear crosses.

They had established a nation called Barsia in the northwest of the Continent and exerted their influence.

“When Master first explained it to me, I was disappointed. I wondered what kind of Vampire that was.” “They don’t even drink blood to a lethal amount in the first place.”

Godfrey said.

“Is that so?”

“Isn’t it obvious? They can’t drink that much because they’d get full.”

It was a rather anticlimactic reason.

“Furthermore, just as humans get drunk from wine, Vampires enter a similar state when they drink blood. If they drink a moderate amount, they’ll simply pass out. Overindulgence is considered uncouth among them and earns ridicule.”

Eugene listened with interest, having been unaware of such details.

“They’re parading them around the village in a cart right now, and it looks like they’re coming this way.”

The farmer pointed to a prisoner transport cart, approaching and resembling a cangue.

Its wooden Prison-like bars were wide open, allowing a clear view inside. It was designed so onlookers could throw stones or refuse and insult the prisoners.

The Priest at the front of the cart was proclaiming loudly.

“By the guidance of the Holy Spirit, we have captured the unholy fiend! Soon, the purification punishment shall be meted out! Then, divine grace shall descend upon this village!”

The ignorant farmers merely nodded. They were people carefully educated by the Principal Religion Priests in this isolated rural area.

*Outside, they were Demi-humans who played a clear role in the world, but here, they were considered bloodthirsty monsters.*

The cart reached Eugene. Inside were three women, clearly showing signs of hardship.

“These Priests really go to extremes.”

Godfrey frowned upon hearing Eugene’s description.

“Aren’t they already helpless? To humiliate women like that...”

“Truly Knight-like of you.”

“Don’t tease me. I haven’t quit being a Priest yet.”

One was a girl in her late teens. Despite being captured in enemy territory, she maintained a dignified demeanor and grace.

The other two were a woman in her late twenties and a child who looked barely ten. They had their eyes tightly shut, embracing each other.

“Judging by their ears, they aren’t even Pureblood Vampires.”

Purebloods have slightly longer upper ears, like a bat’s, but theirs were like humans’. This meant they were Dhampirs, mixed-bloods.

“What’s so great about catching Dhampirs that they’re making such a fuss?” “Still, they seem to be a high-ranking woman and her Handmaidens.”

Though covered in dust and mud, their noble appearance and the quality of their clothes and embroidery couldn’t hide their status.

The girl in her late teens was likely the mistress, and the other two her Handmaidens.

“This worries me.”

“What do you mean?”

“They have strong pride in their lineage. Trouble might erupt in the village.”

“All Nobles have high pride, don’t they?”

“The Barsia folk are at the forefront of that chosen-people mentality. Why else would they call themselves Nobles of the Night?”

Godfrey, who had traveled endlessly to capture every sound in the world, knew the cultures and customs of various races.

“Their internal power struggles are so brutal they make human Nobles’ squabbles look cute. There’s no way they’ll stay quiet if a family member is captured.”

“It seems they’ve already been quite thoroughly humiliated.”

The cart was heading into the Monastery. It seemed they intended to imprison them in the prison attached to the monastery basement.

“There’s no reason for Barsia Nobles to be in this vicinity, so how were they caught?”

Godfrey couldn’t understand. The Gord Kingdom, a nation of formidable Warriors, lay between their territory in the northwest of the Continent and this village.

“If Barsia Nobles who shouldn’t be here were caught, then pursuers who shouldn’t be here might appear. Does the Principal Religion not consider such things?” “Aren’t they the kind who live with their eyes and ears shut? Even if they knew, they’d probably be arrogant enough to think no one would dare attack the sacred Monastery.”

Their fanatical belief that God would protect them was the root of all problems.

“Well, whether the Monastery gets a good thrashing or not is none of my concern.”

“It seems you’ve lost all affection for them too.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

Godfrey had nothing more to say and gave a wry smile.

* * *

After returning to the Monastery, Godfrey went to attend to his pending duties, and Eugene submitted the Monster Boar tusk.

“This is your proof?”

“Yes, Senior Priest.”

He held the second-highest position in the Principal Religion Monastery, after the Abbot, and was the one who had given Eugene the request.

He held the tusk, examining it from all angles, his face contorted in a displeased frown.

*What’s his problem now?*

While there are some people in the world you dislike for no reason, these Priests disliked Eugene even when he gave them something.

His position as Godfrey’s Direct Disciple, his trustworthy Knight-like appearance, and the popularity he gained in the village by driving away sea monsters and bandits were notable.

Rationally, he was a talented person who should not be treated poorly.

But humans are creatures of emotion, and this was a Monastery in the Middle Ages, dominated by fanatical faith.

Among them, the Principal Religion, with its most stubborn adherents, rendered rational judgment meaningless.

“I have dealt with the boar that threatened the village. As promised, I wish to retrieve my mother’s belongings. Please grant me permission to enter the Sealing Chamber.”

This Monastery had several storerooms, but two were the most important.

One was the Treasure Vault, where they kept relics and scriptures they considered sacred. The other was the Sealing Chamber, which isolated evil objects from the world.

Naturally, his mother’s belongings, classified as a Witch’s items, were in the Sealing Chamber.

The Senior Priest fiddled with the boar tusk, then shook his head.

“I cannot permit it.”“Are you going back on your word?”“How can I believe you with just this measly tooth? You could have bought it somewhere or just picked it up off the ground by chance.”“Stop being so unreasonable. As Priest Godfrey’s Disciple, I would not stoop to such base acts.”

His low voice was laced with quiet fury.

The Senior Priest unconsciously took a step back. He felt as if a beast’s hot breath had touched his face.

“This fellow.”

His pride wounded, his lips twisted.

When Eugene first entered the Monastery, several Brothers had subtly persecuted him, not through outright abuse, but by making him do unnecessary chores.

However, as Eugene grew older, this quickly diminished, until they ignored him at some point as if he were a cow looking at a chicken.

The Senior Priest, who rarely had direct dealings with Eugene, thought of him as someone who would soon leave, so he tolerated him.

But now he realized that wasn’t it. They had all simply been too afraid to provoke him.

“I swear to God, I have brought the trophy of the hunt as promised. You, Priest, must also keep your promise.”

Though his tone was polite, the Senior Priest gritted his teeth under Eugene’s intimidating gaze.

“You are no Priest! Do not casually invoke God’s name! This is not sufficient proof, so bring something more conclusive.”

He practically threw the tusk back at Eugene. Then, without looking back, he fled as if escaping.

* * *

“That’s what happened.”

Eugene recounted calmly before Godfrey.

“Hmph. I felt bad leaving those I’d spent so long with, but they’ve completely erased that sentiment. I wonder if I should thank them.”

Even within the Monastery, the Senior Priest was particularly hostile towards Eugene.

“Could he still be holding a grudge about the Wine Ritual?”

It was a ritual of purification, prayer before a holy statue, and drinking wine. It was a sacred rite of passage, symbolizing the washing away of worldly defilements.

Performing this didn’t make one a priest, but it was mandatory to reside in the monastery.

However, when Eugene prayed, the bonfire before the holy statue was extinguished. It was a sacred fire that, for religious reasons, was supposed to burn all year round. An Apprentice Priest who once accidentally put it out received a flogging.

—*He truly has the blood of a Witch.*

—*Oh! How could this happen...*

The Priests whispered, and Godfrey defended it as a mere coincidence. Only a few tolerant Priests agreed with him.

From then on, the Senior Priest regarded Eugene with deep distrust.

“Aren’t you angry?”

“I am angry, of course.”

Eugene said with a faint smile.

“You’re not mocking me, are you?”

“Of course not. I’m merely trying to remain calm.”

“This is beyond mere calmness.”

Eugene had been raised under Godfrey’s tutelage not as a Priest, but as a Knight.

Knights and patience are both close and distant. It’s fundamental to embrace pain like a lover but shun insult like filth.

Any Knight would rage like a beast if a sacred promise were desecrated. Yet, he could smile in such a situation.

“At least they didn’t burn them, but kept them stored, right?” “They are as serious about heresy studies as they are about faith, after all.”

Heresy studies is the discipline of researching the origins and weaknesses of malevolent beings to better combat them. It’s a task permitted only to veteran Priests, as there’s a risk of being tainted by evil while delving into it.

“So, what do you plan to do now?”

“I have a contingency plan. I wanted to retrieve them peacefully if possible, but now I have no choice.”

Eugene shrugged.

“You know the Monastery Basement, don’t you?”

“That cesspit? Of course, I know it.”

It’s where they pile up things they don’t use but can’t quite throw away, a disgusting place reeking of foul odors, inhabited by unknown mushrooms, molds, fist-sized sewer rats, and insects.

Everyone hated cleaning it, so Eugene, the ugly duckling, usually had to manage it.

“Structurally, the Sealing Chamber and the Monastery Basement are close to each other. And it turns out there’s a Secret Passage hidden there.”

There was no need to explain where it led.

“Why would there be a Secret Passage there?” “Well, perhaps there was a Priest in the past who was interested in Forbidden Knowledge. It takes decades to get permission for heresy studies, after all.”

Godfrey nodded at the plausible conjecture.

“If you knew about it, why did you wait all this time? If you were going to steal them, you should have done it sooner.” “Whether sooner or later, it would have been discovered. It would have caused trouble for me and brought discredit to you, Master. I wanted to retrieve them legitimately.”

Stealing from the Monastery was a serious crime. Whether he liked them or not, it was the place that had raised him, so he didn’t want to become enemies with them.

“But now, there’s no other way.”

Eugene resolved to infiltrate the Sealing Chamber via the Secret Passage and retrieve his mother’s belongings.