[DISCONTINUED] Regrets and Wishes: To the Parallel Past

Chapter 14 - To the Ogres' Rescue

Hey, I'm very sorry for having unpublished this chapter for a while. It turned out that I messed up pretty badly in this chapter. First, there was a fatally mistyped word ("dragon form" => "human form"). Second, I forgot to add some crucial details. Third, somehow my em-dashes reverted back to small strips when I've fixed the mistakes in my mobile phone (I usually use laptop). Fourth, when I replaced the chapter with the one I'd written in Word so I could get back the em-dashes, I forgot that it didn't have the crucial details (again) and some sentences were not properly positioned (like, I placed them in wrong paragraphs since I sometimes cut and paste a sentence).

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(3rd Person's Perspective)

Thirty minutes ago...

In a village located at the southwest direction of Lake Siss, lived there one of the superior races in the Great Forest of Jura. An informal collection of clans, together forming a kind of battle-fort home to three hundred—that was the ogres' home.

For a monster village, the ogres' village was already very decent.

Their surroundings were clear from filth. Their houses were not simple shacks or huts like those of low-ranked monsters. Their houses were built from woods and already having a carefully-planned design with each room having its own dedicated functions. They even cleared some grasses and bushes to make a footpath which connected nearly every villager.

Their village could be said to be comparable to the humans' villages. No, in fact, around four hundred years ago, there once lived alongside them a group of actual human warriors from unknown origin.

The warriors came to the ogres' homeland, heavily wounded and seemingly lost in the forest. By that point, the ogres were a belligerent bunch, more akin to monsters than they were now. But even then, they didn't the defenseless.

They were a high-level, not very preoccupied about food, so they took care of them.

The warriors were so thankful for this. They instructed the ogres in battle techniques and gifted their armor to them. One among them knew how to forge katana-style weapons, and after a long trial-and-error process, they succeeded in producing large number of weapons.

As a superior race, their intelligent was high. It was proven by how they were able to keep their tradition going even after hundreds of years. 

Their strength was obviously cannot be looked down at either. All of them combined were as strong as a small nation's knight corps—a force equivalent to three thousand fighters trained to B-minus rank level.

These ogres' life style could be described as militaristic. The clans held battle trainings with each other on a regular basis. Occasionally, they also joined this or that side to assist other races when they fell into conflict with their neighbors.

They lived as de facto mercenaries. Some of the clans had left some notable marks in the history, forming vanguard forces for one Demon Lord or another.

All of the ogres, who were currently living in this village, were descended from them.

They'd been enjoying a long era of peace, without ever undisturbed by any kind of conflicts. To them, the monsters of the forest were nowhere near challenging enough. And as of late, they hadn't even had any rampaging lesser dragons to deal with.

It was around an hour before sunset. The sky was slowly turning orange.

The ogres were doing the usual things they would do around these times. There was nothing wrong.