“‘Gourmet,’ today's challenger is a bit of a handful.”
The chubby, large-eared manager of the arena smiled as he gave Ogre a warning.
Ogre was the ultimate showstopper of this Apprentice-level arena.
The title of the Strongest Mortal was not something Ogre had claimed for himself.
Rather, it was earned, fight by fight.
It was the praise heaped upon him by the crowd of bored young nobles.
A defending champion of Ogre's caliber already enjoyed a high level of privilege—after all, who would make things difficult for a cash cow?
“Do you have any info on them?” Ogre asked, keeping his voice low.
He didn't let these empty honors get to his head.
His streak of victories was due not only to his ability and experience, but also to his caution.
Nowhere demanded caution more than the Forest of Monsters.
Honor could bring him benefits, but it could also ruin him. In the arena, he was essentially no different from those fighting crickets.
“They're apprentices from out of town,” the fat manager shook his head, indicating he had no detailed information. “But they're definitely at the Apprentice level. Probably some wealthy young masters from another city out having fun.”
At first, he hadn't thought highly of Ogre either, until this seemingly scrawny kid defeated over ten of the arena's mainstay fighters in a row.
“Out with it, what's the reward this time?” Ogre said as he touched the clasp of his mask. “And don't try to fool me with the usual junk. For someone to challenge me directly without any information beforehand, their wager must be quite substantial.”
Ogre was effectively demanding his reward in advance. He knew that if the manager called it tricky, they definitely didn't want him to lose.
Now that they had revealed their need, it would actually look suspicious if he didn't use it to extort some leverage.
In this business, interest was king. Ogre never trusted bonds forged purely out of convenience.
Out-of-towners?
Perfect to test the results of his training.
“How about this much, eh?” The manager extended three fat fingers.
“That is indeed a lot, but I want something else.” Ogre feigned contemplation for a moment before speaking, “Do you have any better visualization diagrams or meditation methods?”
Over the past two years, Ogre had made a surprising discovery: meditation methods or the visualization diagrams of Mind-Imagers could accelerate his ‘digestion’.
Although he didn't know the principle behind it, as long as it worked, that was all that mattered.
“A meditation method better than the one I gave you before... tsk, those are hard to come by.” The fat manager put on a difficult expression.
However, this hesitation looked just as fake as his smile.
“I remember a similar one was auctioned off a while ago. Don't tell me you guys didn't make a copy of it.” Ogre didn't believe they had any conscience.
Knowledge was like emotion—at once the most precious and the cheapest of things.
“Fine, but...”
“I want it now,” Ogre spoke up, showing his confidence.
“Give it to him,” a slightly authoritative voice drifted over, carrying the tone of someone accustomed to commanding others.
Ogre turned his head slightly and discovered the source of the voice was a chair.
It seemed this was the rumored boss.
‘I set my price too low...’
Soon, the item Ogre requested was presented.
Basic meditation methods and basic visualization diagrams were already highly refined. Upgrading these foundational tools was actually extremely difficult—because talented apprentices wouldn't stay stuck at this stage for long anyway, and for most people, the basic methods were more than enough.
Usually, only those perfectionists would need anything better.
If Ogre didn't have special requirements due to his ability, the basic methods would have sufficed for him as well.
《Withered Wood Rejuvenation Meditation Method》
‘This name is a bit strange...’ Ogre took the meditation book and casually stuffed it into the inner lining of his leather armor.
“This is a meditation method from the East. They call it a Heart Method over there.”
The fat manager explained offhandedly. Meditation methods from the East were indeed outstanding, and those marketed under such names usually commanded a much higher price in gold coins.
As for whether it was genuine or fake, that was up to one's own judgment.
However, Ogre felt that while they were a bit stingy here, they wouldn't go so far as to peddle fakes.
“I'll handle it. What classes are the apprentices?” Ogre asked.
Non-professionals of different classes had different combat strengths. At the Apprentice level, martial arts and weapons made up a massive portion of combat capability, making knights the strongest at this stage.
“A knight apprentice, and another who seems to be a mage apprentice.”
“I understand.”
Ogre replied flatly. At the Apprentice level, he really hadn't met any opponent of significant weight.
Most apprentices were actually inferior to ordinary armed goblin marauders; at least goblins would truly fight for their lives.
Those with enough talent and family backing would have trained straight through to become full Professionals.
After Ogre left, the person behind the chair slowly spoke up, “Once this match is over, arrange for him to go to Meteor City. The environment there might suit him better.”
“Yes.”
...
“The next challenger will be taking on the Strongest Mortal—‘Gourmet’!”
The announcer hyped up the arena crowd with immense enthusiasm.
This so-called "Strongest Mortal" was, in truth, no different from giving a fighting cricket a grand title like "Mighty Divine General"...
“Show these out-of-towners what you've got, Gourmet!”
“Arena King! Arena King!”
Hidden beneath his mask, Ogre accepted the cheers of the crowd in silence, for his gaze was never on the stands but locked dead onto his opponent.
‘They're not even trying to disguise themselves...’ Ogre scrutinized the young knight opposite him, sensing an air of composure about him—a laziness that naturally accompanied an elite upbringing.
Beneath this casual demeanor, Ogre also saw confidence—a trait he usually only observed in sated demonic lions.
No disguise, a careless expression.
They were either an idiot or genuinely capable...
Arrogance, after all, usually required strength to back it up.
“The Strongest Mortal, huh? That's quite a cocky slogan. Let's see what you're made of.” This knight, clad in exquisite armor, did not seem particularly well-mannered.
‘He is likely just an accompanying attendant...’
Ogre instinctively made his assessment, then glanced out of the corner of his eye toward the mage apprentice standing below the stage.
If he hadn't guessed wrong, the one standing behind him was likely the true opponent.
‘This job is indeed going to be a bit troublesome.’
Ogre didn't speak. He simply took the weapon handed to him by an arena attendant.
The weapon he had chosen was a staff. For a non-lethal fight, a staff was the most practical choice—and it could also bypass armor.
This was also why Ogre was so popular: he knew how to temper his strikes. Fighting him carried very little danger but offered immense room for improvement.
“Hmph, turns out you're a mute.”
The opposing knight also drew a Sword of Discipline used specifically for sparring.
He didn't perform a knight's salute, which showed he didn't respect Ogre in the slightest.
This action actually made Ogre breathe a sigh of relief.
The announcer declared the start of the match.
Ogre was the first to make a move!
Rate on N.U.
