Chapter 333

Step. Step.

The fog split open without a single sound.

A monster the size of a horse revealed itself. Grey fur that melted into the mist, and a ridge of black horn running down its spine.

[Gloamhorn Direwolf (Lv. 356)]

One. Two. Three... Nine in total, fanning out between the twisted trees.

"Nine," Iris said quietly.

"Yeah." Rudra rolled his neck. "I'll take the front."

The lead wolf lunged.

Rudra didn't blink. He stepped straight into it and swung.

CRACK!

Extortion met the wolf's skull. Lightning exploded off the black metal.

[You have dealt 38,200 damage.]

The wolf staggered. Before it could recover, the staff was already coming back the other way.

CRACK!

[You have dealt 41,900 damage.]

Then again. And again. It was a completely ridiculous fighting style. Rudra didn't pull back to reset his stance. Every swing flowed straight out of the last one, the momentum carrying the staff around his body in one unbroken circle, and every hit that landed made the next one come a little faster and a little heavier.

Kwa-jeik!

The second wolf bit into his shoulder from behind.

[You have suffered 9,400 damage.]

Rudra ignored this little damage. Dodging would break the chain. He just turned with the next swing and let the staff carry into the second wolf's jaw instead.

CRACK!

[You have dealt 52,300 damage.]

'Come on then. All of you.'

And they did.

He waded straight into the middle of the pack. It was a one-sided massacre. Three to four strikes a second with the staff a black blur, the numbers climbing with every single hit.

[You have dealt 61,800 damage.]

[You have dealt 68,400 damage.]

[You have dealt 79,100 damage.]

BANG!

A wolf leaping for his blind spot suddenly dropped dead, a clean hole right between its eyes.

Rudra didn't even look back.

Iris was gliding across the edge of the battlefield like a dancer. Both pistols drawn, she was turning, stepping, firing. Never stopping in one place long enough for anything to reach her. Two wolves tried to circle round to her side, and she shifted her weight, spun once, and put a bullet into each of their skulls before they finished the turn.

They were Wick's Arcane Guns. The dark grey, slim pistols Rudra had crafted for her which has been enhanced to +7 by her. And not, she finally had a weapon that could actually keep up with her insane reflexes.

[You have dealt 102,600 damage.]

The last wolf broke and tried to run. Rudra's staff caught it across the ribs before it made it two steps.

CRACK!

[You have dealt 118,300 damage.]

It broke apart into blue pixels.

The forest went quiet.

[You have gained 4,820,000 experience.]

Rudra lowered Extortion, let out a long breath, and sat down heavily on a fallen trunk covered in pale moss.

Iris holstered her pistols and sat on a rock across from him.

. . .

It had been more than a month since they'd left the Valiant Orcs in the Arc Kingdom.

They had walked across the Glaucian Kingdom, the Haken Kingdom, and multiple dungeons, hunting non-stop. Now, they were at the edge of the Gloamhorn Wilds—a forbidden hunting zone where the minimum level of the monsters was 350.

And somewhere at its heart, according to the coordinates Mellory had given him, was the next tribe.

Iris glanced at him quietly.

"Are you tired?" she asked.

"My body's fine," he said. "Better than fine. I've never been in better shape." He leaned back against the tree behind him and stared up into the fog. "It is my mind, Iris. My mind is totally fried."

Iris waited.

"Do you know what I've done this month?" Rudra asked the fog. "I am a Duke. I have two legendary classes. I literally have Legends working under me. But what was I doing this month? Wrestling half-naked Ogres in the dirt."

"Several times," Iris said.

"Several times," Rudra agreed with a dark expression.

. . .

The Splendid Ogres had lived in a valley of hot springs and polished stone, three weeks' walk from the Valiant Orcs in the Glaucian Kingdom.

Rudra had gone in expecting the obvious.

Ogres. Huge, bloodthirsty brutes who ate travellers and smashed villages. That was the case with pretty much all the Ogres in Satisfy. The only thing he was counting on was his title. He figured his [Muse of the Goddess] title would do the heavy lifting to gain their affinity. Probably.

But the nonsense started right from the handshake.

The chief, Storack, was the tallest Ogre in the valley. Well over two and a half meters, with shoulders as broad as a doorway, curved horns polished until they shone, and tusks so perfectly matched they looked like a set. His hair was oiled and swept back. He wore a sleeveless vest that was very deliberately cut to show off his arms.

He was, frankly speaking, ridiculously handsome. For an Ogre.

The moment Rudra introduced himself as the Muse of the goddess, Storack's whole face lit up.

"The Muse!" His booming voice echoed. "The goddess's Muse! Here!" He grabbed Rudra's hand in his massive fist and squeezed. "You have a strong grip, Muse!"

"Thanks," Rudra said. "So do you. Can I get my hand back?"

Storack did not let go. He squeezed harder, and a very particular gleam came into his eyes.

"Very strong," he murmured. "How strong, I wonder?"

'Ah, damn it.'

Two minutes later, Rudra was standing in the middle of a ring of packed sand in his plain cloth shirt. His items had been unequipped and put in his inventory as soon as he came near the edge of the ring. Half the Ogre tribe was sitting around the ring, munching on snacks.

"No weapons," Storack explained cheerfully, rolling his massive neck. "No armor. Only pure strength and beauty. That is the Ogre way."

"I came here to talk," Rudra said.

"And we will talk!" Storack beamed. "After."

Rudra glanced over his shoulder at Iris. She stood at the edge of the crowd with her arms folded and her face completely blank. She gave a very small shrug.

Traitor.

Storack charged.

THUD. THUD. THUD.

The ground shook with every step. And as he came, his body swelled. His shoulders broadened. His arms thickened. His whole frame grew larger and heavier, until his shadow swallowed Rudra completely.

"Behold!" he roared. "My splendid form!"

The crowd went wild.

Rudra planted his feet, caught the charge with both hands flat against Storack's chest, and stopped him dead.

The cheering cut off.

Storack blinked down at him. He pushed. Rudra didn't move. He pushed harder, veins standing out along his perfectly sculpted arms, his feet churning up sand. Rudra still didn't move.

It was a simple matter of stats. Most of these Ogres had around 3,000 Strength. But Rudra? He was the 1st Ranker and a legendary class holder. His base Strength was well over 4,000. It was an overwhelming difference.

"Sorry about this," Rudra said, a little apologetically.

He slid one hand down to Storack's belt, got the other under his arm, and lifted.

"Huk!"

The crowd gasped. Two and a half meters of swollen, splendid Ogre left the ground. Storack's eyes went very wide. For one long second he hung there in the air, legs kicking, held up by a human who barely came up to his chest.

Then Rudra turned his hips and brought him down.

BOOM!!

The whole valley shook. Sand exploded outward in a ring. Somewhere at the back of the crowd, someone dropped their snack in shock.

Before Storack could even draw breath, Rudra was on top of him, pinning one huge arm across his chest with his knee and holding him down with one hand.

And that was the moment that would stay in Iris's memory for the rest of her life: a half-naked man only 185 centimeters tall pinning a handsome monster more than two and a half meters tall, holding him down with one arm, and their faces less than ten centimeters away from one another.

"Do you surrender?" Rudra asked politely.

Storack looked up at him. He did not look humiliated. He did not even look angry. He just looked delighted.

"Lord Muse," he said, with utmost sincerity, "your hair is very shiny. Do you oil it?"

"...What?"

"Your hair. It shines. Which oil do you use?"

"I am literally pinning you to the ground," Rudra said, dumbfounded. "We are in the middle of a fight. Do you surrender or not?"

"I am enjoying this very much," Storack replied happily, making no effort at all to get up. "Which oil?"

Rudra looked down at him. Then around at the ring of Ogres, every single one of them watching with the shining, tear-filled eyes, as if they were witnessing a divine miracle.

It did not stop with there.

The moment their chief finally, joyfully surrendered, the next Ogre stepped into the ring, flexing. Then the next. Then the next.

None of them seemed to want revenge. They each just took a turn to wrestle with him. Rudra pinned eleven Ogres that afternoon, and every single one of them thanked him afterwards with tears in their eyes.

When it was finally over, Storack climbed to his feet, dusted the sand off his vest with great care, and placed one enormous hand over his heart.

"To lose to the Goddess's Muse... It is the greatest honour of my life! The Splendid Ogres will follow you!"

"Uwaaaah!" The valley erupted into cheers.

That night, Rudra first summoned Winfred for the logistics, then started cooking for the Ogres. He had planned for this part, at least. He glazed and roasted a cart's worth of Beauty Meat.

When the Ogres tasted it and felt their skin tighten and their horns gleam a little brighter, half of them started crying all over again.

[Species 'Ogre' has been satisfied.]

[Quest 'The Path of the Cooking Saint': Species satisfied, 6/10.]

. . .

Back in the foggy forest.

Rudra buried his face in his hands.

"So many Ogres," he said through his fingers. "They all looked at me with such innocent eyes, Iris. While I was pinning him."

Iris did not answer.

Rudra lowered his hands and looked at her.

She was sitting very straight on her rock, staring at her pistol with intense concentration. Her face was as calm and blank as always. But the corner of her left eye was twitching uncontrollably, and her lips were pressed so tightly together they were practically gone.

She was remembering it. The image of Rudra pinning a beaming giant, asking him to surrender while the giant looked like he fell in love with Rudra.

"You're laughing," Rudra said.

"I am not laughing," Iris replied instantly, without looking up.

Her eye twitched again.

Rudra let out a long sigh, leaned his head against the tree trunk, and closed his eyes.

"And that," he told the fog, "was the easy tribe."