Wildness and Masks

'I'm finally back.'

Ogre turned to look. After confirming Macal was nowhere in sight, he let out a sigh of relief—after all, he couldn't actually go looking for Yard.

"I should get something to eat first."

Ogre didn't have much loose change on him, but it was enough for a meal.

He planned to eat first, then find an inn to sleep.

"The villages are pitch black at night, but the towns are bright."

Ogre looked toward the city center. No matter how many times he saw it, he was always struck with awe.

Even in the poorest Frontier City of the Empire, the nights were bright—all sorts of mana lamps and oil lamps illuminated most of the city.

The closer to the city center, the brighter it became.

"What a show of power. I wonder what the cities in the heartland are like..." Ogre remarked with a sigh.

In the forest of demon beasts, even lighting a fire could get you attacked at night.

"It's about this time... Uncle Buck's shop should still be open."

Ogre turned his head and started walking back toward the grand hall of Dawn—because Uncle Buck's shop was over there.

His stomach was still empty.

'Looking like this, Uncle Buck and Sister Norse probably won't recognize me.'

Ogre thought it might be interesting to eat under a different identity.

Even if he ran into Yard...

Ogre wasn't worried. He didn't think Yard would be able to recognize him anymore.

With a light heart, Ogre soon arrived at Uncle Buck's shop.

'Why is business so bad today?'

Looking at the sparse crowd, Ogre felt a little confused.

He remembered Uncle Buck's shop usually did great business. Why were there only a few people today?

'Where did Uncle Buck go?' Ogre looked again, but the kind, avuncular shopkeeper was nowhere to be seen.

'Did he retire? Why did he hand the business over to his daughter?' Ogre wondered, looking at the long-haired beauty behind the counter.

Maybe it was his imagination, but he thought he saw a hint of sorrow in Norse (Uncle Buck's daughter).

"I'll have two servings of sliced hind leg of magic sheep, a roasted corn, and a glass of milk," Ogre said, walking up to the counter.

Seeing Ogre approach, Norse froze for a moment.

"Right away, please wait a moment." Maybe it was his imagination, but Norse seemed to feel that this handsome young man before her looked somewhat familiar.

After ordering, Ogre found an empty chair and leaned back in it.

'Something feels off.' Ogre glanced around before his eyes landed on a nearby patron.

It was a man with a long beard.

Ogre remembered him as a regular. He was a decent fellow, a veteran mercenary.

"Friend, may I ask you a question?" Ogre couldn't hold back his curiosity and struck up a conversation.

"Young ranger, are you in some kind of trouble? My rates aren't expensive." The bearded man put down his copy of the Dandelion Daily and looked at Ogre.

He didn't seem surprised by Ogre's handsome features—at least not on the surface.

That was a skill honed by a long career as a mercenary.

"I can buy you a mug of ale." Ogre pulled out a Silver Coin he had swiped from Macal and slapped it on the table.

"My generous friend, ask away. If I know, I'll tell you." The Silver Coin instantly brought a spark to the bearded man's lazy eyes.

"A friend of mine told me the original owner of this shop was an uncle with excellent cooking skills. How come a girl is running it now?" Ogre asked curiously.

"My friend, you must have heard that rumor a while ago," the bearded man asked in return.

"Yes," Ogre nodded slightly.

"That explains it. You probably don't know, but the owner of this shop was a hidden Ghoul Mutant. He was just purified by a priest from the city's church a few days ago."

The bearded man silently pocketed the Silver Coin from the table.

"A Ghoul?" Ogre's pupils trembled slightly—this answer was completely unexpected.

'How could Uncle Buck be a Ghoul... He was such a good person. How could this happen!'

Ogre never would have imagined that the kind uncle who always greeted him so warmly was actually a deeply hidden Ghoul.

"Unexpected, right? I was surprised too... What's even more surprising is his daughter—the pretty girl at the counter. She was tested and found to be a pure human. Interesting, isn't it?" the bearded man said with great interest.

"No wonder... the crowd is smaller."

Ogre hadn't expected that after being away for just a few days, things would have changed so much.

"If the priest hadn't confirmed it himself, I wouldn't have believed it. In my memory, the old owner was a really good guy. He had a real knack for donkey liver... Ai, who would've thought? It even scared off many of his daughter's suitors. Only old customers like me who are used to coming here and a few persistent suitors still show up."

As he spoke, the bearded man pushed his ale forward. "You seem like a decent fellow. Want to sit and have a drink? Consider that news on the house."

"No, thank you. I don't drink," Ogre refused with a wave of his hand.

The bearded man pulled his small cask back and sighed. "It's a shame. Ever since the owner passed, the ale and roasted meat just don't taste as good. Her skill and timing are far worse than her father's."

"Then I won't disturb you any longer." Ogre paid no mind to the man's lament and prepared to return to his seat.

Just then, the bearded man called out to him, "Wait, my friend."

"Is there something else?" Ogre asked, his hand resting on the table.

"You haven't taken a liking to Norse, have you? Uh, the pretty girl at the counter, the former owner's daughter," the bearded man said.

Ogre shook his head.

He wouldn't consider matters of love and romance until he had accomplished his goal.

"Good. A lot of young men have their eyes on her, hoping to inherit this tavern... but none have succeeded. You're a handsome lad, don't waste your time here. It's nothing but trouble."

After saying this, the bearded man went back to drinking his ale, paying Ogre no more mind.

'How unpredictable life is...' Ogre returned to his seat.

He still couldn't figure out why Uncle Buck, a Ghoul, would come to a large town.

For Ghouls, who live by eating corpses, the best place to be should be a village or the slums.

An intelligent Ghoul, one almost human, would basically never be exposed as long as they didn't run into a Knight of the Church of Dawn or someone of a higher rank.

(Note: Ghouls are not actually classified as dangerous Mutants, as their food is rotting corpses and they rarely attack the living. Though ugly, they are not fearsome. Some Mage families even keep Ghouls as servants. However, if encountered in the wild, it is best to eliminate them.)

'I don't get it... I really don't get it.'

Ogre shook his head and gave up on such a meaningless question—after all, Ghouls had no human rights.

'I might as well read the paper.'

After a sigh, Ogre casually picked up the newspaper on the table and began to read.

It was a copy of the Dandelion Daily left by the previous customer.

...

Meanwhile, Macal was counting the money he had on him—he still needed to buy a magic-blooded horse to go back.

"Strange, I don't remember having so little money in my purse. When did I spend it?" Macal stared blankly as he rummaged through his coin purse.

"Forget it. I'll just wait for word from the Church of Truth..."

Macal put away his coin purse and continued to wait in the hall—the Truth wizard who could handle the handover had not yet arrived.

"I wonder how the village is doing now..."

...

"Your sliced magic sheep leg, roasted corn, and milk." Norse placed the food in front of Ogre.

"Thank you," Ogre replied politely, putting down the newspaper and picking up the utensils on his tray.

"Have we met somewhere before?" Instead of leaving, Norse sat down directly opposite Ogre.

"How could we have? This is my first time here."

Ogre cut a piece of roasted meat, dipped it in the spicy sauce on the side, and popped it into his mouth to chew.

"Then I must be overthinking it." Despite getting an answer, Norse didn't leave.

Instead, she propped her cheeks up with her arms.

And stared right at Ogre as he ate.

"Why are you staring at me?" Ogre felt a little uncomfortable under Norse's gaze.

"Waiting for you to pay..." Norse said listlessly.

Ogre: "..."

"How much?" Although Ogre knew how much the meal cost, he asked anyway.

"Nine silver and twelve copper. The magic sheep meat you ordered has gone up in price recently." Norse lowered one arm and held out her open palm.

Ogre took out ten Silver Coins and placed them in Norse's hand. "Keep the change."

"Thank you for your patronage." Norse collected the coins, her mind elsewhere.

"Why aren't you leaving?"

It wasn't that Ogre disliked Norse, but with her sitting right in front of him, the few people in the shop were all looking their way.

How was he supposed to eat in peace?

"Am I not welcome?"

Norse perked up a little. She was still curious about Ogre's identity.

Having just lost her father,

she was especially sensitive to the inexplicable sense of familiarity she felt from Ogre.

"You're making me a target for a lot of hate," Ogre said, his cheeks puffing out as he chewed the meat.

"Can you tell me your name?" Norse asked, unconcerned.

"Ma'am, shouldn't you introduce yourself before asking for someone else's name?" Ogre put down his knife and picked up his milk.

Norse lowered the hand propping up her chin and looked up. "My name is Norse. And you are?"

"You can call me Lange," Ogre said, taking a sip of milk.

'Never heard of him...'

Ogre's introduction made the light in Norse's eyes dim.

'This kid's a master at picking up girls?' The bearded man in the distance stared, his eyes wide.

'Do women these days all like pretty boys?' another bald man thought, feeling very frustrated.

"Sorry to have bothered you," Norse sighed.

"It's fine."

Ogre wrapped the roasted corn in a napkin and started gnawing on it—he had been hungry for almost two days, and it would be a disservice to himself not to eat well.

While tree fruits could provide energy, if he had the choice to eat better, Ogre would definitely choose to eat better.

He was starving after a full day of traveling with Macal.

'This kid... with a beauty right beside him, all he knows is to eat...'

A few onlookers' mouths twitched. They couldn't even get a word in with Norse.

To be honest, after what had happened at the shop, who among those still willing to come wasn't here for Norse?

"You..."

After being rebuffed, Norse was about to get up and leave, but a new customer at the door made her change her mind.

"Norse!"

A bald man with an axe on his back walked into the shop and shouted toward the counter.

After a moment with no response, his gaze swept over the tables, and he quickly found his target.

"Norse?" To his surprise, his goddess was having dinner with some pretty boy.

"Mind moving?" the bald man said, walking up to Ogre, who was still gnawing on his corn.

"Wait until I'm finished," Ogre said without looking up. Initiating a fight was forbidden in this area.

He recognized the bald man. When Uncle Buck was still around, this guy often came to the shop to pester Norse.

But Uncle Buck had always sent him packing.

'Sister Norse, you've changed too...' Ogre naturally understood that Norse was using him as a shield.

Not that he really cared.

Ogre understood the impact a 'father's' death could have and lamented Norse's change.

At least, the kind Sister Norse of the past would never have done something like using someone as a shield.

"I'll give you one chance. Take your tray and leave, or else..." The bald man placed a hand on Ogre's shoulder.

"Are you provoking, threatening, and attacking me?" Ogre put down his corn and tilted his head up to the side.

Ogre's serious, word-for-word delivery made the bald man pause. He hadn't expected this pretty boy to dare talk back.

"Fine. You'd better pray that you..."

Before the bald man could finish, his eyes met Ogre's.

In that instant, he felt a piercing, vicious intent rise from Ogre—it was the look of a predator sizing up its prey.

For a split second, it was as if he saw... a hungry Ogre!

"Hande, that's enough!"

Norse stood up. She hadn't expected the bald man to go this far... Was it just because the ranger in front of her looked like an easy target?

"Agh! Don't!"

To everyone's surprise, faced with a standing Norse, the bald man, Hande, actually recoiled.

In fact, "recoiled" wasn't the right word—"scared off" would be more accurate.

Because not only did the bald man Hande cry out in fear, he also fell right on his butt, a truly disgraceful sight.

He only snapped out of his terror when the sound of laughter hit him.