Chapter 110: It’s All Ogre pt 1.

Leaning forwards, Kaius peered around the shattered jewel-encrusted gate that led to the final district of the dwarven city. Like a mountain with its top shorn clean off, the pinnacle of the dwarven city was a flat and open space.

Great stone tiles as large as a house paved its surface, while equidistant ridged stone columns surrounded the edges of the constructed plateau. Nothing linked them, the edge of the rise a simple sheer drop to the administrative district far below.

Masterful dwarven construction it might have been, but the stout engineers clearly had no mind for safety.

Dozens of statues dotted the space, each one twice his own height and an artist’s magnum opus in their own right. Stone flowed as if cloth, shone as if polished plate armour, and damn near breathed as if it was living. Each depicted what must have been some dwarven paragon, bastions of their society immortalised in regal sculpture. As was to be expected, most were warriors and artisans, plying the tools of their trades. Yet not all, on more than one occasion he spotted the familiar crook of a magi’s staff, or the scrolls and quill of a scholar.

However, despite the sublime creations that put even the masterpieces of the lower city to shame, it was not the dwarf-craft that held his attention. Instead it was another figure—far more mean and terrible—that prowled through the garden of carved stone.

Hulking.

Brutish.

Bestial.

It must have been an easy eighteen strides tall to his six and a half. Its skin was more callus than flesh, grey warts and knobbled lumps marring its off-green complexion. A head too large, too deformed, to look natural – only held in place by an equally grotesque neck. One so short that its chin almost merged with its chest.

A heavy, jutting brow shielded its pinhole eyes from the radiance of the false sun above. Despite that significant cover, the ogre still winced in discomfort every time it faced in the false-sun’s direction.

Kaius gulped, staring at their fated challenge with apprehension. It was fucking huge. Big enough that it made the statues look to scale. Still, despite its prodigious size, he couldn’t deny the way his heart raced at the thought of slaying such a giant. It would be a feat for the ages.

Not that ogres were traditionally such a great threat, at least for the elites of the frontier. Too stupid by half to ever make it to the second tier with any regularity, nor possessing the aptitude to make it any further than that, at least for the common breeds.

Yet to defeat an ogre as an unclassed? One empowered to the status of Guardian? That was more than worth an epithet. Kaius Ogresbane. He rolled the words around his tongue, tasting their flavour. He found he liked it. The way it made his heart race, sent his blood surging with the potent spice of risk and deadly battle. It would make a fine capstone for his preparations for his class.

Besides, there was no way that something as base as an ogre would stand between him and Father. He would not let a simple fight, no matter how deadly, stop them from reuniting, even if only to perform his final respects.

Thankfully, whatever outfitting the goblin horde had done for the brute, it hadn’t extended beyond giving the thing a sheet sized leather loincloth and a crude club fashioned from an entire tree trunk.

He focused his True Sight on the creature, drinking in its status.

Siege Ogre – Level 36:

Guardian, Depths-born, Vanguard, Low Race

At the very least the bastard wasn’t level forty, the cap for a Guardian of the second layer. If it had been they would have had to contend with it having a third active skill. Even then, it was a small comfort. A single solid smack from its club would be enough to pulp either one of them.

Kaius pulled back, slinking down the stairs to where Porkchop waited.

….

They retreated further down the staircase. Not too far, just enough that they could discuss the coming conflict without worrying of the ogre overhearing them.

“So? What did you think?” Porkchop asked, the emotions flowing across their bond making it obvious he was eager for their battle to start in earnest.

“We’re going to need to ground it somehow, the thing looks to be almost thrice my bloody height!” Kaius explained, looking up from his pack where he was rifling through it to pull out their potions one by one.

“Any major dangers?”

“Below level forty, so only two skills. It’s club is going to be a problem though. It looked cumbersome, but it’s the size of a small tree. Any good hit will paste either one of us.” he said, pulling out a fizzing orange regeneration tonic to set it down beside the silvery one that would boost his magic.

“You want to take point then? You’re better at dodging those sorts of things than me.” Porkchop asked.

Kaius gave his bond-brother a nod. It was true, even if Porkchop was faster than him in a straight sprint, there was the simple fact that standing upright made it easier to leap away from oncoming blows. That, and Uncanny Dodge would be a powerful equaliser when it came to avoiding the ogre.

A few weeks ago he would have been less confident, before he had received Brotherhood of Ichor and Animus and become Beastblooded. Now, his body thrummed with physical might, and his mind drank in detail faster than ever before. It was hard to quantify, especially because the growth had been even across the board, but he felt significantly more powerful than before. The interference of stats made it all the more confusing, but it was noticeably potent.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“I’ll try for a headshot as an opener. I don’t think it will actually work, but the potential rewards of crippling it from the get go are too good to pass up. Otherwise I’ll unload the rest into one of its knees. Hampering its mobility should be our focus. It’ll be too difficult to wear it down if we never get a shot at its vitals.” Kaius explained. It was a quick strategy. Simple and devoid of complex plans or manoeuvres. Those had become unnecessary. For one, complex plans often went out the window in the heat of battle, and for two, they no longer needed to rigorously communicate their goals and intentions.

With how they had been falling into sync in each battle, the other would simply know.