Family Matters

“A true shortcut rarely appears in front of the majority. If I give up just because it is difficult to walk, it only proves that I am not qualified,” Folke turned and said solemnly.

Seeing this serious side of Folke, Ogre subconsciously avoided his gaze. When he looked back, the solemnity on Folke's face had already vanished.

“We should probably hand in today's commissions first.”

Ogre did not have such grand ideals. He only wanted to investigate the truth and deal damage in return to those who had once bullied him.

Anything beyond that would be to find a way to resurrect someone.

“Let's go then.” Folke did not press the matter further.

He hadn't expected to convince Ogre with just a few words anyway.

But in his view, as long as he took action, someone would eventually follow. Making the Kingdom a better place had always been one of his ideals, but only recently had this ideal gained a concrete direction.

If the prosperity of the Empire could not shine upon everyone, then no matter how prosperous it was, it would ultimately not be the prosperity of humanity.

Folke felt that the Empire needed to change, but as for how to change it, he still had no ideas.

For now, all he could do was gather his strength.

...

“Your efficiency is incredibly high.”

The half-elf receptionist at the commission counter looked at the piles of materials and the stamped village commission slips, her face filled with disbelief.

To wipe out four goblin nests in a row, resolve a ghoul incident in a village, and still manage to gather materials on top of that...

To think that those who accomplished all of this were merely a few Apprentices.

Even some actual Professional teams wouldn't have this kind of efficiency...

Well, of course, most of those Professional teams wouldn't even look at these periphery commissions.

“It was alright, I suppose.” Folke recalled their journey, thinking that they hadn't run into anything particularly troublesome along the way.

As for the slightly troublesome ghoul incident, Ogre had dug up a few graves, gathered some info, and quickly found the culprit.

It was just a foreign creature hiding in a human village.

Lange had simply rushed over and hacked it to death in a few strikes.

Though Folke didn't know exactly how Ogre had managed to locate it.

But considering Ogre had studied at the Church of Dawn to some extent, it was understandable.

“Here is your adventuring band's new badge, and here is your commission reward.” The half-elf receptionist carefully sized up Folke's attire and suddenly understood.

She assumed Folke had probably “cheated”—she remembered this noble young master seemed to have connections with a Silver-grade High Professional.

But what did that matter?

She was just a receptionist working for the Association. As long as someone completed these backlogged, terrible commissions, she couldn't care less how they did it.

“Alright, thank you, ma'am.” After politely thanking her, Folke placed the rewarded gold coins and points card into his void pocket.

These rewards were secondary to him; he only cared about their adventuring band's rank right now.

“Folke.”

Just as Folke was about to call Ogre and Lange to leave, a knight in heavy armor called out to him.

“Third Uncle!” Folke greeted happily upon seeing the knight.

The newcomer was indeed his uncle, Laidi Cromie.

“Is everything going well, little Folke?” Laidi could clearly feel that his nephew seemed to have changed.

The training from these recent commissions had probably played a part.

“It's very smooth, Third Uncle.” Folke waved at Ogre and Lange, who were sitting in the waiting area drinking water.

“Lord Laidi.” As Lange walked over, he immediately prepared to bow and perform a knight's salute. This was the respect a low-ranking knight owed to a high-ranking knight.

“Lange, why are you being so formal with me?” Laidi reached out and pressed down on Lange's shoulder, stopping his salute.

“Uh, Uncle Laidi?” Ogre didn't know how to address the high-ranking knight before him either.

When he had looked for Folke before, there was no one else around, so it was fine for the man to have him call him “Uncle.”

But now that Folke was right beside them, any form of address felt a bit awkward.

“Ogre...” Laidi stared at Ogre intently for a moment, then suddenly burst into laughter. “Thank you for taking care of Folke these past two days. These two kids shouldn't have caused you too much trouble, right?”

Seeing this, Ogre waved his hands repeatedly. “No, not at all. Having Folke and Lange as teammates actually made things much easier for me.”

At this moment, another question arose in Ogre's mind.

He noticed that Laidi didn't seem to have come specifically for Folke. Rather, Folke seemed like he was just brought along as an afterthought.

Why would a high-ranking Professional... travel all the way from the interior to the frontier?

Beside them, Folke almost smacked his own forehead. “Third Uncle, no matter what, I wouldn't go as far as dragging someone down.”

“Hahaha! I was originally worried you wouldn't adapt to the environment of the frontier lands, but seeing you now sets my mind at ease.” Laidi patted Lange and Ogre's shoulders before stating his request to the two. “I have some matters to discuss with Folke privately...”

Lange and Ogre exchanged a glance and tactfully excused themselves.

“Third Uncle?”

Folke was somewhat puzzled, but he wasn't foolish enough to contradict his elder in public.

“Just wait outside for a bit.” After giving Ogre and Lange a reassuring nod, Laidi pulled Folke into his private lounge.

“Are the noble families in your interior always like this?” Ogre asked curiously as they walked out.

He certainly wouldn't have asked such a question in the past, but now that their relationship had improved slightly, Ogre felt it wouldn't hurt to ask.

“How would a knight from a vassal family of the Cromie Family like me know?” Lange did not answer Ogre directly, merely indicating that he was just at the bottom of the noble hierarchy himself.

Unlike mage families, knights in knight families who had not inherited a peerage or been knighted with a title typically held very little status, let alone the fact that he was merely a bastard son.

If he truly had any standing, he wouldn't have been reduced to a squire.

After all, a Knight didn't necessarily have to start as a squire.

“Fair enough.” Hearing this, Ogre did not press further. He wasn't particularly curious about the domestic affairs of such grand noble families.

He was merely asking out of casual interest; it was nice to know, but didn't matter if he didn't.

“By the way, Ogre, aren't you the descendant of an exiled noble?” Lange asked, also somewhat curious.

He had learned a bit of information about Ogre from Folke.

Ogre nodded, then shook his head, speaking without any reservation. “My parents died very early, and I don't know what my identity actually is. However, since I have neither the aptitude for a Knight nor a Mage, I assume I'm probably not the child of some noble.”

Under generations of selective intermarriage, the children of nobles were almost always either Knights or Mages, and they usually possessed decent talent. This was especially true for larger families.

If the probability of a commoner possessing a Professional aptitude was one in a thousand, then the chance of a direct descendant of nobility possessing extraordinary talent was a near certainty.

Bastard children excluded.

“Have you really been all on your own for all these years, Ogre?” Lange's pace faltered slightly.

“Not completely. I had an adoptive father. In my heart, he is my true father.” Ogre did not care about his lineage; in his heart, he only had one father.

“Then where is your father?” Lange asked instinctively, only to regret it immediately after the words left his mouth.

Ogre was busy bustling about completely on his own. Wasn't it obvious where his father was?

“He died. He passed away several years ago.” Ogre's fist clenched slightly beneath his wide sleeve, but he forced a nonchalant tone as he spoke.

“I'm sorry, Ogre.” Lange uncharacteristically apologized of his own accord.

Setting aside his initial contempt for those from the frontier when they first met, Lange was actually quite straightforward once one got to know him.

“It's fine, I'm used to it.” Ogre stopped walking and glanced back at their distance from the Professionals Association. “Let's just wait for Folke here. There aren't many people around.”

“Yeah.” Only then did Lange realize that he had already walked quite a distance while following Ogre's pace.

“Ogre, how did you train to become so strong?” Lange tried to change the subject, bringing up what he had been most curious about before.

“To survive better,” Ogre replied crisply.

“Serandic told me that you and he actually only trained for two years.”

Whether for Knights, Martial Artists, or Mages, it was generally not advisable to begin official training too early. However, starting his official training at fourteen was also a bit late for Ogre.

In a family like Lange's, training usually began around the age of twelve. Although his talent wasn't the absolute best, it was by no means mediocre.

Before meeting Ogre, he had even felt proud of his cultivation progress.

“Serandic told you that...” Ogre sighed unconsciously at the mention of Serandic.

To this day, he still felt that Serandic's injury was somehow related to him.

“I suppose. But before that, before I met Yade, I also did some unconventional training.”

As Ogre spoke, he drifted into his memories.

‘Father, searching for food outside must be very exhausting...’ A young Ogre had asked what was on his mind as he looked at his father, who was tired but still forced a smile.

At that age, he didn't understand how to beat around the bush and simply asked whatever came to mind.

In his memory, his father had replied, ‘Ogre, as long as you are here waiting for me, I won't feel tired.’

Back then, Ogre did not understand the meaning behind those words.

‘But... Father, I don't want to see you get bullied. I don't need to eat sweets, and I can endure hardships. I want to go out with you...’

Ogre didn't understand the meaning of his father's words, but he knew how to care.

‘Silly child... Wait until you grow taller than me before we talk about that.’ In his memory, his father merely patted Ogre's head and gently refused him.

At that time, what Ogre wished for the most was to grow taller.

Later on, Ogre's wish changed to becoming strong. He would run outside from time to time just to make himself stronger...

Back then, his father would still scold him for it...

“Then your adoptive father must have been an outstanding Martial Artist,” Lange asked, taking it for granted.

Ogre shook his head again. “He was great. In my heart, he has always been great, but I know very well that he was actually just an ordinary person...”

As Ogre spoke, he gestured to Lange. “He was probably only this tall, because his back was always hunched...”

‘Father... Ogre has already grown tall...’