Inside the ogres’ cave, the sound of footsteps arrived as promised.
“The corpse—there’s none left outside on the carriage. You’ve all eaten them, haven’t you? Then how am I supposed to report this to His Highness the Prince?”
Along with the footsteps came a hoarse, grating girl’s voice, reminiscent of a worn-out bellows struggling to pump air.
The ogres hidden deep in the shadows all opened their terrified eyes. Normally, when a living person trespassed into their territory, they would go mad, rushing out to tear the intruder apart and feast.
But this living person outside was entirely different! Or rather, she couldn’t even be called a living person! She was a demon crawling out from the depths of hell!
“Answer me.”
The footsteps halted briefly, but the hoarse voice continued relentlessly.
The ogres felt a freezing gaze cast upon them; their scalps tingled, and the fear growing in their hearts bloomed wildly like a seed sprouting into a towering tree.
“Sorry…” “Sorry…” “Sorry…” “Sorry…” “Sorry…”…
An incredible sight unfolded. The ogres timidly emerged, and upon seeing the girl, they knelt and bowed their heads heavily to the ground, speaking in human language.
Setting etiquette aside for a moment, in the world of [SLAVE], ogres were classified as the lowest tier of monsters—dangerous creatures without intelligence. They had no civilization of their own; although they often moved in packs, they lacked any form of organization and, when hungry, sometimes even resorted to cannibalism, driven purely by their wild instincts.
Yet the ogres before her could speak human language. Surely, the famous monsterologists in [SLAVE] would be very interested in this.
The girl was not surprised by the scene. She knew the root cause of it all.
It was nothing more than training. This was how they learned human language—if they couldn’t do it, they were tortured; if they could, the torture was lessened. Day by day, this yielded such results.
The etiquette of apologizing was trained the same way. Her master, the third prince of Amidal: Rymion Amidal, once said, “It’s common sense to kneel and say sorry when apologizing.” The girl faithfully followed her master’s will and extended this practice to her subordinates.
Now, one by one, the brownish-yellow skinned ogres trembled as they knelt, awaiting their judgment.
The girl held the power to give or take their lives. She was a terrifying demon lord who could even torture the dead.
Ogres had no females—all were male. Their method of reproduction was to bury their own hearts into a fresh corpse at the brink of death, turning that corpse into a brand-new ogre, with the original consciousness overwritten by wild instincts.
Normally, without external factors, the ogres’ growth rate would slow down until extinction. However, in [SLAVE], every hundred years, a “Monster Outbreak” occurred—millions of ogres would be born from unknown places, preserving and continuing even those seemingly doomed monster species.
At this moment, the ogres in the cave did not think they would live to see the next “Monster Outbreak.” It was still three years away, but they might be killed today!
“His Highness the Prince ordered me to search for a suitable corpse,” said the girl, standing upright with her back to the cave entrance, blocking the moonlight, her features obscured in darkness.
“How should I report this now?” She raised her voice, sounding like a terrifying sea beast roaring.
“Sorry!” “Sorry!” “Sorry!” “Sorry!” “Sorry!”…
The ogres screamed in fear. The only human phrase they had learned was “sorry,” and now they pinned their hopes on that phrase to save them. They had no other means of resistance.
“…” The girl fell silent. No one could tell what she was thinking.
The ogres became even more terrified. They kowtowed desperately, smashing their heads on the ground until their faces were bloody. They preferred this over a deathly silence, which to them meant worthless uselessness.
Silence meant having nothing to say, which meant losing their value and becoming disposable rubbish.
Could the girl already be ready to discard them as trash?! The ogres nearly lost their minds at this thought. At this moment, it was not the desire to survive that dominated their thoughts.
Under the girl’s torment, death was the most terrifying thing—they feared the torture after death!
“No next time.”
The girl said calmly, then turned and walked step by step toward the cave exit.
The sudden change stunned the ogres for a long moment before they dazedly retreated deeper into the cave to rest. They felt they must be dreaming.
Previously, any ogre who dared touch the corpses was mercilessly executed by the girl. That they were spared now was unbelievable.
They knew that the corpses were toys meant to please the important figure behind the girl. Whoever spoiled that figure’s mood by mishandling the toys would be punished by the girl, his subordinate.
So why were they still alive? The ogres racked their limited, weak intelligence but couldn’t figure out the answer.
“Baiya Ifiel Klorom.”
Outside the cave, the girl peered at the wanted poster in her hand by the moonlight, murmuring the name.
She walked step by step to the carriage, then past it, stopping four or five meters ahead before her boots stained with blood.
In front of her was a pool of blood and a white-haired girl with horrific wounds. Her only remaining right eye was lifeless, as if already dead.
Judging by the injuries and blood loss, she couldn’t still be alive—it was a corpse.
“What a relief. The corpse His Highness the Prince designated has survived. I can make my report.”
After comparing with the mage-graphic photo on the wanted poster, the girl confirmed the corpse before her was the target she sought.
It was strange. The corpses placed in the carriage should have all been devoured by the ogres. She knew how ravenous those monsters could get, especially when out of control—they would never stop until all the flesh was gone. Yet the target corpse remained.
But this wasn’t a bad thing—if anything, it was lucky. She had good fortune. The girl no longer hesitated and reached out to grab Baiya’s cold body.
“…Help me.”
Blood-stained lips twitched two or three times.
Impossible! She was still alive! The girl recoiled like she’d been shocked, clutching her wrist, and for the first time, a flicker of softness crossed her cold face.
Only now did she notice the winding blood trail left on the ground, snaking out from under the carriage, flowing outward like a stream, with the pool beneath the white-haired girl forming a sea where it converged.
The blood trail explained a lot.
The girl finally understood why Baiya Ifiel Klorom’s body had been spared in front of the ogres’ hunger.
Because she wasn’t a corpse!
Because she was still alive!