“Money is not an issue. As long as it isn't too unreasonable, feel free to ask. If you need anything else, Ogre, you can let me know now,” Folke said with a slight smile.
Of course, he wasn't a complete pushover; there was a limit to what he considered reasonable.
Asking Ogre to state his price was also a way to test his appetite.
Being wealthy did not mean he was foolish.
What did Ogre want most? He wanted many things—such as an expensive hybrid dragon hatchling, which would make excellent raw ingredients for eating, or a convenient spatial artifact, or powerful divine equipment.
But he couldn't say any of these out loud. After giving it some thought, Ogre pointed at Lange and said, “I want his breathing technique.”
This was the most direct and valuable thing Ogre could think of at the moment.
His own breathing technique was indeed a bit outdated and basic. The breathing technique Yade had taught him was of the most fundamental kind, as the Church of Dawn's Dawn Breathing Technique was not permitted to be shared with outsiders.
A normal, basic breathing technique was only useful for laying a foundation during the Apprentice stage.
While it was barely sufficient to occasionally regulate his breathing rhythm and pace, using it to enhance his physical constitution was out of the question.
Currently, Ogre was in dire need of a high-quality breathing technique to assist his training.
However, different people suited different breathing techniques, and changing them rashly might not work well. Additionally, switching to a new breathing technique would require some time to practice and adapt, which was why Ogre had put it off until now. He planned to switch directly to a high-quality one. High-grade breathing techniques generally offered greater compatibility and could be used for much longer.
Lange's breathing technique was clearly of a high grade. To be able to train his physical body to be even stronger than Ogre's was not something that a mere Knight bloodline could achieve.
“What did you say?!” Lange stared at Ogre, his eyes wide with rage. Ogre's request was nothing short of a provocation.
“Lange's breathing technique cannot be shared with outsiders,” Folke said, his voice turning considerably colder.
“In that case, I want a higher-grade breathing technique instead,” Ogre offered, taking a step back to settle for the next best option.
“This will also help boost my strength for our upcoming mission, won't it?” Ogre added.
He truly needed some items that money alone could not easily buy.
The empire regulated breathing techniques and magic very strictly, which was also a way to force unaffiliated Professionals to join established factions.
“I can agree to this request. I will bring you a new breathing technique tomorrow.” Ogre's compromise softened Folke's expression.
However, this also caused their relationship to sour slightly.
But Ogre did not care. The path he had chosen was destined to be a lonely one without friends.
Ogre firmly believed that as long as there was no one he deeply cared about, he would never be hurt again.
Ogre had never believed in the friendship of nobles; he only cared about whether he achieved his goals.
Evidently, he had succeeded.
When making a direct request, the other party might refuse. However, if one made an even more outrageous demand beforehand, the likelihood of achieving the true goal would increase.
“Let's go, then. I'll take you to meet my 'junior brother,'” Ogre said quite nonchalantly.
“Alright. Innkeeper, bill please.”
...
“Serandic!” Ogre called out toward the opposite bank of the river on the outskirts of the forest, with Folke and Lange in tow.
Before long, a shirtless, blond youth walked out from a wooden cabin on the other side of the river.
“Ogre, is there something you need?” This youth was clearly the reserve Paladin Ogre had mentioned.
The youth's background was somewhat similar to Ogre's. Serandic's village had been destroyed by goblin raiders two years ago.
He had only survived because he happened to sneak out to play that day.
Harboring a desire for revenge, he had traveled all the way to the frontier city.
However, the grueling journey had caused him to faint from hunger. Fortunately, he ran into Ogre and Yade.
Compared to other orphans, Serandic was unfortunate, yet also fortunate. This was because he possessed the talent of a Knight and had met Yade.
“Do you want to go kill some monsters for revenge?” Ogre asked bluntly, watching Serandic wade through the water toward them.
He knew very well how much Serandic hated goblins and those monsters.
“That wouldn't be right. Teacher Yade...” Serandic indeed desperately wanted to charge out and kill those monsters, but Yade's teachings had made him much more restrained lately.
Without becoming a Professional, he lacked the capital for revenge.
“What kind of progress can you make by just practicing here all the time?” Ogre was subtly poking at Serandic's slow improvement in strength.
During the period right after Serandic activated his Knight bloodline, his strength had exceeded Ogre's.
But after Ogre later obtained high-speed dynamic vision, Serandic was no longer a match for him.
Serandic did not know that Ogre could “feed.” He simply assumed Ogre's progress was due to honing his combat skills in the colosseum and fighting monsters in the Forest of Monsters.
While that indeed played a significant role, what truly decided their battles was the massive boost Ogre's high-speed dynamic vision provided.
“But would this really work...?” Serandic was a little swayed. As the gap between his and Ogre's strength widened, it was impossible for him not to have some thoughts about it.
Of course, he would never know that the real reason they had grown apart in strength had nothing to do with so-called life-and-death training.
Training in the Forest of Monsters indeed honed lethal combat skills, which could naturally improve one's fighting ability, but that level of combat didn't actually have that much of an impact on casual sparring. After all, Ogre couldn't actually deal a fatal blow.
As a result, sparring actually held him back. In a life-and-death battle, Ogre was absolutely certain he could kill Serandic. But in a mere spar, Ogre couldn't guarantee he wouldn't accidentally lose.
“What if we provide you with a full set of equipment?” Ogre stepped aside to make room for Folke.
Although both Ogre and Serandic were Yade's disciples—though Ogre technically wasn't anymore—the difference in how they were treated was quite significant.
After all, barring any unforeseen circumstances, Serandic was destined to inherit Yade's mantle, which meant the restrictions and rules imposed on him were far stricter.
Yade's requirement for Serandic was that he could only consider other matters after becoming a Professional.
His teachings toward Ogre, on the other hand, had never been so severe.
“They are just some Apprentice-level missions. There won't be any danger, I guarantee it,” Folke said, stepping forward.
“You are?” Although Serandic did not recognize Folke, he could tell the youth's background was by no means ordinary.
“My name is Folke, a direct member of the Cromie family from Sadek City.” Folke extended his hand to Serandic.
“It's just some evaluations. There won't be any danger, and I guarantee it will be an excellent training opportunity. I will prioritize accepting goblin-slaying missions. All potion expenses and equipment supplies during this period will be covered by me. As long as we perform well, there will be no shortage of gold coins afterward.”
It had to be said that Folke's offer was highly tempting to Serandic. After all, unlike Ogre, he hadn't seen much of the world and lacked a strong sense of wariness toward others.
Compared to experienced individuals like Folke and Ogre, Serandic and Lange behaved much more like typical youths their age—easily letting their hot-bloodedness override their reason.
“I agree.”
Perhaps it was out of trust in Ogre, or maybe he had been dazed by Folke's guarantees. Or perhaps Serandic's deep-seated hatred for goblins was simply too hard to stomach.
He didn't even make an excuse before selling himself out.
Watching this, Ogre felt a strong urge to cover his face. He had clearly hinted for Serandic to ask for a set of high-quality armor, yet this kid hadn't even mentioned a single request.
Had he stoked the fire a bit too much earlier?
Then again, a young master like Folke wouldn't be lacking in funds anyway, so his rewards would likely be generous.
“Very well. However, I would still like you to have a spar with Lange. Although you are a Knight recommended by Ogre and I trust his judgment of your strength, I still need to see how you perform to know what kind of tasks I can assign you.”
Folke made a reasonable request. At the same time, he activated his spatial artifact and retrieved a small bag of gold coins from the pocket dimension. “Regardless of the outcome, this money is yours.”
“No, no, no, how can I accept money before doing any work?” Seeing Folke directly offering money, Serandic declined without a second thought. Judging by the weight of the small pouch, there had to be at least fifty gold coins inside.
The teachings of Yade and those from his childhood made Serandic hesitant to accept such a valuable gift directly.
This act of his caused Folke's gaze to instantly shift back toward Ogre.
His resentful eyes seemed to ask, Are you two really taught by the same teacher?
Ogre had never been hesitant or polite when it came to accepting things.
“Just take it, it's the compensation you deserve.” Ogre simply rubbed his nose, feigning innocence without showing the slightest embarrassment.
He truly believed he was worth the price.
Seemingly encouraged by Ogre, our blond youth Serandic finally accepted the small pouch of gold coins.
“Do you need me to take off my armor?” Lange asked as he looked at Serandic, who was also a Knight.
He only looked down on Martial Artists.
As for the Paladins of the Church of Dawn, Lange still held them in high regard, even if this one was only a reserve.
“There is no need. Teacher taught me that when you encounter a real enemy, they won't play fair with you.” Serandic was wearing loose, active clothing typical of a Martial Artist.
Instead of taking full advantage of a Knight's incredible stamina that allowed them to bear heavy armor, he took a martial stance like a Martial Artist.
“No weapons? Then I won't use mine either.” Lange unstrapped the weapon at his waist and set it aside.
He felt that since he was already wearing armor, he shouldn't bully his opponent.
He did not know that he would very soon regret this decision.
“Who do you think will win?” Folke asked from the side.
“My junior brother.” Ogre's lips curved into a mysterious smile. He indeed had immense confidence in Serandic's strength.
If Ogre hadn't had the aid of high-speed vision before, he really might not have been able to secure a stable victory over this honest kid.
“Although I believe Lange will win,” Folke looked at his retainer knight who was bound to him for the rest of his life and slowly spoke, “it would be a good thing if this helps him correct his habit of underestimating opponents.”
“That's true. It really needs to be corrected. Not every place plays by the rules like in the city,” Ogre agreed, lifting his chin.
Meanwhile, as the two conversed, the two Knights finished their pre-battle salutes, and the clash between Knight and Knight immediately commenced.
Rate on N.U.
