Chapter 11 Ogre Mage

In a corner of Stormy Ridge, within Cannibal Valley, more than a dozen Ogres were gathered around a charred wild boar, indulging in a gluttonous feast, excitedly ripping into the flesh, creating a chaotic mess everywhere.

"Mine, it's all mine!"

"You idiot, you think you can compete with me?"

Among them, the tallest and fattest Ogre knocked out a companion with his club, snatched a pig leg from their grasp, and gulped it down, licking his fingers with relish.

His name was Ramp, the leader of the Ogre Tribe.

Ramp found himself getting smarter by the day, and his subordinates often said so too—though they didn't know how to use such advanced vocabulary. They just said he was "really good at finding food."

But the clever Ramp understood their meaning and took great pleasure in it.

In the Ogres' dictionary, "good at finding food" was the highest praise, whether it was achieved with a thick club or a smart brain.

Besides gorging himself, Ramp would also flip through books he had snatched from "Nibbles" before, reading with great interest and learning many useful things:

For example, he learned from "Sean's Adventure Log" that placing a treasure chest or scattering some Gold Coins on the road, then digging a deep pit covered with grass, would soon trap more "Little Ones"—the book called this a "Trap," and Ramp quite liked this sophisticated term.

What fascinated him the most was a thing called "Spell" from "Fool's Guide to Fireball Spell," which allowed him to conjure fireballs bigger than a boar's head, easily turning a woolly mammoth into roasted meat.

Ramp had used this method to obtain a huge amount of food and brought together the Ogres, who usually roamed in twos or threes, into a tribe of more than twenty. After all, those who refused to join were turned into roast meat by Ramp, now resting in everyone's stomach.

This was an epoch-making achievement that deserved to be recorded in the annals of Ogre history—at least that's how Ramp saw it. So he named the tribe "New Era," a term he had also learned from the books.

Unfortunately, no one in the Ogre Tribe could understand the name, and a subordinate even asked why they didn't call themselves the "Big Meat Chunk" Tribe. As a result, he got a fierce whack from Ramp's club.

Ramp always felt a sense of "hating that iron cannot turn into steel" towards his Ogre subordinates.

Every time he tried to make them line up in formations to ambush the enemy, following the "Military Exercise Manual," the Ogres would shout "Meat! Meat!" and rush toward the enemy in disarray, wielding their clubs.

He wanted to teach his subordinates the Common Tongue, hoping to extort more food from humans, but aside from the words "eat," "meat," and "food," the Ogres learned nothing.

"Sigh..."

"There are still too few smart ones in the tribe."

While eating, Ramp would often ponder and lament.

However, the other Ogres had no such worries; they had already fallen into a snoring slumber, sleeping soundly shortly after their meal.

Lately, he had been focusing on nurturing an Ogre named "Bighead," who was true to his name with a big skull, big enough to think for two. Ramp thought that perhaps those with bigger heads might be a bit smarter.

"Boss, there's food over there!"

The "Scout" Ramp had arranged shouted excitedly from the mountaintop.

"Bighead, what's coming?"

Ramp spat out a bone with delight and climbed up the slope, for Ogres never get full.

"It's a big lizard, loads of meat!"

The Ogre known as Bighead danced with joy, brandishing the Wolf Fang Club in his hands.

A Fire Lizard? Or a Bipedal Wyvern?

Several images flashed through Ramp's mind at once, none of which were creatures to be trifled with.

"Describe what it looks like."

"Let me see—same color as fresh meat, red, with four legs, two wings, and one tail..."

The more Ramp listened, the worse his feeling grew. He personally climbed to the mountaintop and saw the "big lizard" opposite him.

His face changed dramatically, and he gave Bighead such a whack that the already large head swelled up even more.

"You imbecile!"

"That's a Dragon! A True Dragon!"

After he spoke, Ramp, still not over his anger, chased the confused Ogre and gave him a fierce beating, making him wail in pain.

Bighead protested in a wronged tone, "Boss, why'd you hit me, what'd I do wrong?"

"Isn't that just a big lizard?"

Indeed, compared to most of his kin, he was already quite clever, able to recognize it as a lizard, and not just shout "meat," "meat"—that was quite an achievement in itself.

"You still talking?"

"Keep talking!"

"Stop beating me, boss, that, uh... Dragon is coming over."

Bighead clutched his swollen head and wailed loudly.

Ramp dropped the club in his hand and irritably looked up.

But he saw the Red Dragon already flying above him, wings outstretched, casting a shadow that enveloped him.

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Ramp organized his thoughts with his clever brain and hesitated for a moment before he spoke:

"Uh… Mighty, noble, and grand Red Dragon Your Excellency, Bighead is an uncouth fool who knows nothing of etiquette. I will discipline him properly and hope that you will not demean yourself by taking offense at his ignorance."

Considering the proud giant dragons in the sky, Ramp made sure to reference the use of language from the "Noble Etiquette Record" in his speech.

As soon as these words were spoken, Cassius almost fell from the sky, struck by the profound bard-like presence they exuded.

However, the Red Dragon did not respond, simply looking down from on high, observing the ogre who resembled a "Smarty."

There was a hint of surprise in the slit pupils that was hard to conceal.

[Based on your own strength, you have observed the following information]

[Ogre Mage]

Name: Ramp

Category: Giant, Neutral Evil

Race: Ogre

AC: 12 (Beastskin Armor)

Attributes:

Strength——18

Agility——8

Constitution——16

Intelligence——17

Perception——8

Charisma——12

Proficiencies: Arcane +3, Hunting +4, Trap +3, Reading +6, Military +2, Ruling +4, Herbology +2, Persuasion +2, Deception +2

Senses: Passive Perception 14 feet

Languages: Common, Draconic, Giant

Actions: Smash, Bite, Pound

Combat Equipment:

[Ring of Wisdom's Study]: A headband created by an Archmage with all his heart for the dim-witted noble students, which locks intelligence at 17.

[Secret Technique Ring]: Arcane +1 Reading +4

[Albert's Mithril Bracelet]: Daily exemption from a 4th rank spell once.

Occupational Level: 5th-Level Mage

Caster Level: 5

Spells:

1st rank—none

2nd rank—none

3rd rank—Fireball Technique

Challenge Level: 6 (2,100xp)

Assessment: "This is a rare Ogre Mage, he's truly intelligent, never underestimate him, or he will teach you the consequences of scorning a Mage with a fireball."

"Arcane, military, ruling, herbology... a man of letters and arms, and a magician to boot, this fellow is a real talent..."

Cassius couldn't help but marvel internally.

An intelligence of 17, in a human city he would undoubtedly be considered a wise man, maybe even given the title of "Prophet" in an Orc tribe.

It's a shame that this is the Ogre Tribe, where other than eating and sleeping, they know nothing, and he'll only become a leader toiling to find food for his underlings.

The Ring of Intelligence is, as one might say, divine gear for the early stages.

If Cassius had chosen to be a Mage at this moment, he would have done everything in his power to obtain it, but regrettably, he has already chosen the path of the Magician and does not plan to take on another occupation for the time being.

Perhaps it is better to take on a Mage as a subordinate for now.

In the vast Multiverse, there are infinite possibilities.

If even an Ogre can become a Mage, what else is impossible?

At this moment, the air seemed thick with tension.

The Red Dragon and the Ogre Mage, one above the other, were in a standoff.

Ramp, gazing at the Red Dragon, who appeared to be in deep thought, clenched his club in his hand and was already preparing to construct the Spell Prototype in his mind as cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

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