After a few brief exchanges, Ogre and Macar lapsed back into silence, neither showing any intention of talking further.
Switching horses, huh?
Riding atop the horned horse, Ogre rubbed his temples.
He had barely rested over the past few days and was genuinely worn out, both physically and mentally.
This was probably Macar's plan all along.
After all, the two of them couldn't have actually walked the entire way. Still, running into Kakafiel and acquiring a horned horse had certainly been an unexpected stroke of luck.
“I'd like to change clothes once we arrive,” Ogre whispered into Macar's ear.
This dress with tights was far too conspicuous, not to mention terribly inconvenient for whatever action lay ahead.
“Huh?” Macar froze for a moment. He hadn't expected Ogre to be thinking about changing outfits at a critical time like this.
Should he show some spine and refuse?
“I need a proper disguise—a set of men's clothes. My current appearance draws too much attention.” Ogre paused before adding, “After all, Karl, you wouldn't want to invite unnecessary trouble on the road either, right?”
When it came to making suggestions, it was always best to speak up early.
“Uh... alright then.”
Recalling Ogre's alluring appearance, Macar figured changing into men's clothing might indeed be a wise choice. “We're almost there. I'll contact the church in town.”
Macar agreed to the request.
“Good.”
Having received confirmation, Ogre refocused his attention on their surroundings.
This time, they were taking an alternate route to the frontier city.
If everything went smoothly, they would be able to arrive before nightfall.
Fortunately, everything went without a hitch, and they reached their destination without even encountering a single bandit.
“Gelin, we're dismounting,” Macar called out, giving him a heads-up.
“Mm.”
Ogre placed a hand on Macar's shoulder, pushed down lightly, and vaulted off the horse with a neat twist.
Wearing a dress was inconvenient in ways like this.
Ogre rather missed his old gear; right now, he didn't even have a hammer in hand.
It left him feeling distinctly insecure.
“Who goes there?”
The guard at the town gate questioned Ogre. He wasn't singling Ogre out maliciously; rather, Ogre's current appearance was genuinely suspicious.
After all, who would wear a mask for no good reason?
Even if the person appeared to be a young girl.
“I am Macar, a reserve Discipline Knight of the Church of Dawn, and she is a Sister of the church.” Macar dismounted, stepped in front of Ogre, and produced his identification.
He then clenched his fist and slightly activated his battle qi.
The Dawn battle qi unique to the Church of Dawn could not be faked.
“A Paladin! Greetings, Sir Karl. Please come in.”
Within the Engodo Empire, formal Professional Knights were granted knight bachelor status by default, equivalent to a non-hereditary, landless Baron.
Thus, it was entirely reasonable for the guard to address Macar as "Sir."
“After you, Miss Gelin.” Macar stepped aside to let Ogre pass.
This was a habit ingrained into his very bones, one that was difficult to shake off on short notice.
“Mm.”
Ogre had originally considered pulling out the Discipline Grand Knight Badge given by Yade to avoid showing his face.
Evidently, he had overthought things.
A small town's security system was nowhere near strict enough to warrant that; of course, it was also possible that the identity of a Dawn Paladin was simply too convenient.
Still, this guy Macar... is he in a hurry or not? "Ladies first," even at a time like this?
Regardless, since Macar had yielded the way, Ogre naturally didn't comment further and stepped briskly into the town.
In truth, there was no need for Ogre himself to be anxious.
After all, even if a beast tide were to descend this very second, it wouldn't affect him in the slightest.
All he needed to do was run away.
Few people were better adapted to chaotic situations than Ogre.
In fact, Ogre should have been the person least concerned about major catastrophes in the frontier lands—his ties to this place were minimal.
He possessed no significant assets or family here.
Nor was he bound by any religious faith.
“Miss Gelin, let's head to the town's church,” Macar said as he led the horned horse.
He was primarily worried about his family's safety. After all, Roke Town was not far from their village; at a horned horse's pace, it would take several dozen minutes at most.
If anything truly happened, the village would almost certainly be caught in the collateral damage.
“I'll trouble you to lead the way,” Ogre adjusted his mask and said.
He had made it out of the village, but Maqi and Mima were still there.
Though they hadn't known each other long, Ogre didn't want anything bad to happen to the mother and daughter. It would be best if Macar could finish his task quickly and return to protect them.
I just hope it doesn't affect too many people, Ogre mused inwardly.
The collapse of human towns truly had little bearing on him, but if possible, Ogre would still do his best to prevent man-made and natural disasters from occurring. After all, the world was awful enough as it was.
Ogre didn't want to see it get any worse.
Come to think of it, commoners have it the worst. They have no choice but to be swept along by the tide. Sigh...
As long as it didn't endanger himself, Ogre was willing to lend a hand, just as he was doing now.
Children like me... the fewer of us there are in the world, the better.
...
“Long time no see, Knight Karl.” A gray-robed Cleric set down the sacred scriptures in his hand and offered a handshake to Macar.
“Grand Friar Fula is in trouble. It's urgent,” Macar said, cutting straight to the chase.
He had no time for pleasantries.
“What?!” The gray-robed Cleric froze.
If even a Senior Professional had run into trouble, that was no small matter—this could not be taken lightly!
“I'll explain the details to you in a moment, but right now I need the church's help. This is Friar Gelin; she needs an inconspicuous set of clothes. Furthermore, we need a faster demon-blood horse.”
Macar took out the bead left behind by Fula.
He believed the other man would recognize what it was.
“This is... the Sacrifice ritual?! I'll arrange it right away! Come, tell me everything in detail—let's see if there's any way I can help.”
Had anyone else brought this up, the gray-robed Cleric might have instinctively harbored some doubt.
Yet Macar was Grand Friar Fula's accompanying knight; he would never joke about something like this.
“Duozi, Duola, arrange clothing for this friar, as well as a demon-blood horse.” The gray-robed Cleric immediately issued instructions to the two Cleric Attendants before pulling Macar into a side room.
It seemed he was going to get the full story from start to finish.
“Friar Gelin, please follow me.” A black-robed woman made a welcoming gesture toward Ogre.
The color of a cleric's robes often represented their status.
Black was the lowest tier, signifying reserves and equivalent to the Apprentice-level. Depending on their training results and devotion, they were typically designated as Cleric Attendants or Reserve Clerics.
Ordinary Sisters were generally also restricted to predominantly black robes.
Moving up, gray corresponded to the Professional tier.
This was true not only for clerics.
The robes and armor worn by knights and fathers of the Church of Dawn were likewise predominantly gray in tone; Macar belonged to this tier.
Above that, white was an even greater honor. Church personnel of this tier were addressed with honorifics.
Regardless of their specific position, the title had to be prefixed with "Grand"—such as Grand Friar, Grand Knight, or Grand Cleric.
As for the yellow and red robes beyond that... Ogre wasn't very familiar with them. Clergy of that caliber were at least bishops.
Knowing much about them was of little practical use anyway; they were extraordinarily powerful regardless.
I wonder if this Cleric Attendant is Duozi or Duola... For some reason, an irrelevant thought popped into Ogre's head.
The two Cleric Attendants called upon by the gray-robed Cleric looked completely identical.
“Mm, alright.” Ogre nodded and followed the woman ahead of him.
“What kind of clothing would you prefer?” the young attendant leading the way asked Ogre.
“Men's clothing is fine. Ideally a light armor set suited for a knight or ranger,” Ogre answered casually.
“Men's clothing?” The young attendant turned around to appraise Ogre.
Although his face was obscured by the mask, someone wearing such a cute, dainty outfit had to be a frail, vanity-conscious girl under normal circumstances, right?
Why would she suddenly want to switch into a Professional's combat gear?
No matter how one looked at her, she hardly seemed like a fighter.
“Is there a problem?” Ogre asked, puzzled.
He hadn't even shown his face...
Could his posture and physique really look so much like a girl's that anyone could tell at a glance?
Uh, then again, after absorbing the Electric Eel and shifting my muscle distribution, I guess I do look a bit effeminate.
“None at all. Please follow me,” the young attendant replied expressionlessly, turning back around.
Rate on N.U.
