NoveLight ™
‘Ogres, huh…’
Journey gathered her thoughts. Ogres, much like goblins and orcs, were mainstays in fantasy novels, games, and films. While their strength and traits varied across media, it was rare for ogres to be portrayed as weak. They were often depicted with tough hides, massive builds, and the strength to lift tree trunks effortlessly. Following this trend, Celia Online also featured ogres as monsters. Though not as common as goblins or orcs, they weren’t so rare that Journey hadn’t encountered them before—though she always hunted them in a party, never alone.
“Do ogres usually travel in groups?”
As Journey asked the question, several players who seemed at least well-informed chimed in with what they knew.
“I hope it’s just a few…”
The NPCs, as natives of this world, likely knew more about monsters than the players did. Would they use the term “ogre horde” lightly? Even if it were only three or four, the village wasn’t equipped to handle that.
“Did you know there was an ogre habitat nearby?”
“No… I’ve lived in these mountains for years and haven’t seen a single hair of one.”
“…Who is that?”
“He’s a local hunter who lives in the mountains. His job is to report any dangers, like monsters, that he spots. He’s the one who warned us about the ogres.”
As Journey and Catherine exchanged whispers, the hunter’s voice carried on.
“There’s not enough food in these small mountains for ogres. They might’ve wandered in from somewhere else.”
“From somewhere else? Why?”
“Who knows. Maybe they were driven out in a fight or lost in a territorial dispute…”
“That doesn’t matter right now. We need to decide what to do.”
“Hmm…”
The people gathered in the square wore troubled expressions. No one wanted to speak up first, passing the responsibility around. Eventually, a young man stepped forward.
“If we hold the palisade until reinforcements arrive…”
“Against ogres? Unless you want to fly along with the fence, don’t even try.”
His words sparked a flurry of discussion.
“Are they definitely coming this way? There’s a chance they could change direction. Maybe we’re worrying for nothing?”
“What if we just sit here and they attack? Are we supposed to just lie down and die?”
“Let’s just run!”
“We can’t! We haven’t even packed yet, and if we leave, our houses might be destroyed…”
“Your house isn’t more important than your life, is it?!”
“The young ones might be able to run, but the elderly…”
“When will the reinforcements get here?”
“They only left a short while ago, so it’ll be at least a few hours.”
As the villagers discussed, the merchants and mercenaries gathered to plan. Journey noted that their outlook differed from that of the villagers.
“If we leave now, we can probably outrun the ogres.”
“We could push ourselves a bit to reach the next village and rest there.”
Most of them, it seemed, wanted to flee. In fact, none of them expressed a desire to fight. The others, like Journey, just watched quietly, not offering any other suggestions.
‘Well, it’s not their home or their lives at stake. They have nothing here worth risking their lives over.’
The caravan was inclined to leave immediately. Yet, the only thing stopping them was the lingering pang of guilt. Leaving behind the people they’d just been laughing and talking with wasn’t an easy choice. While they didn’t want to fight, they also didn’t want to abandon the villagers. Amidst the awkward silence, someone came up with an idea.
“What if we ride in the empty wagon beds and let the villagers ride in the spare seats? We could prioritize the elderly, children, and women.”
“Good idea! We can throw out some of the less valuable cargo if we need space. Lives are more important than profits, after all.”
This was a way to flee without sacrificing their pride. Since they were offering to abandon goods, no one could accuse them of selfishness. It was a small price to pay for saving face, reframing their escape as a rescue effort.
‘…Not that they’re really wrong.’
Journey shook her head. Unlike her, who could resurrect after death, the NPC villagers had only one life to live. Putting their own survival first was only natural. Besides, even if the caravan was planning to flee, they were still helping. While she was lost in thought, one of the merchants approached the villagers and explained the caravan’s plan.
“…So, we’ll transport some of you to safety in our wagons.”
“….”
“…I see.”
The tension in the air eased slightly. The villagers, caught up in their own debates, were in no position to turn down an offer of help.
“Couldn’t the mercenaries help us somehow? We’ll find a way to pay…”
Someone spoke up bravely, but the merchant’s response dashed their hopes.
“Facing a horde of ogres is beyond our abilities…”
“Oh…”
The mercenaries hired by the caravan were all silver-tier, except for Journey. While they could channel mana into their weapons, their skills weren’t advanced enough to cut through an ogre’s tough hide.
“I’m not going.”
“Grandma!”
At that moment, an elderly woman pushed her way through the crowd. Journey recognized her as the same woman who had given her directions earlier.
“I’m too old to live much longer anyway. I’d rather stay here than leave and suffer.”
“But…”
“Don’t worry about an old lady like me. Just go.”
Whether he was her grandson, her son, or just a familiar face, the young man trying to persuade her was met with stubborn resistance. Even those who didn’t understand Granik could pick up on the heavy atmosphere between them.
“Then let’s just take the others…”
“No! Give me a moment, and I’ll convince her to come with us.”
“But we’re running out of time.”
“I just need a little more time, please!”
The merchant was visibly uncomfortable, caught between urgency and compassion. As he hesitated, Catherine approached Journey.
“Journey.”
“…Yes?”
“You’re a gold-tier mercenary, aren’t you? Can you help them?”
Journey looked into Catherine’s eyes and felt a lump in her throat. Catherine’s brown eyes were filled with compassion, sympathy, guilt, and sadness—and something else, a sense of kinship.
“Did you say a gold-tier mercenary?!”
Before Journey could answer, the young man speaking to the old woman jumped in.
“Please, help us! If you don’t, my grandmother will stay behind!”
“Oh, come now. Even a gold-tier mercenary can’t handle a horde of ogres alone. I understand your concern, but let’s not force the issue.”
Journey’s expression grew complicated. As they said, she couldn’t take on a horde of ogres alone. Ogres typically ranged from level 38 to 42, while Journey was level 43. She’d only just crossed into the expert level, which meant she’d struggle even with a single ogre, let alone a horde.
‘Besides, I’ve never faced one alone.’
Fighting monsters solo leaves no room for error, while in a party, teammates can cover for mistakes. Hunting solo was generally avoided unless unavoidable or under special circumstances.
‘Is there any way I could help?’
As she pondered, Journey noticed the chat window.
“Could anyone nearby come and help? I’ll make sure you’re compensated.”
“…They’re quick.”
Journey sighed in relief. With enough players, they should be able to handle a horde of ogres without trouble. Journey’s face brightened as she relayed the news.
“I’ve contacted nearby Apostles. They’re all willing to help.”
“Oh!”
“Thank you!”
The man and the other villagers looked visibly relieved. They didn’t want to abandon their hard-earned homes and flee, but with no other choice, they had resigned themselves to it.
‘If Kana stepped in, we wouldn’t need any of this…’
Despite relying on Kana quite a bit, Journey didn’t want to lean on her too much. That would go against everything she’d wanted from the beginning. And the mercenaries, for all they’d seen Kana’s strength, couldn’t fathom a young girl taking on ogres. Perhaps their pride also kept them from asking for help from a child.
The caravan, the villagers, and Journey herself all waited with anticipation for the players to arrive. Thankfully, there were no signs of the ogres yet.
As more players began to arrive, the villagers welcomed a group of ten who appeared confident and ready. Journey crossed her arms, growing impatient as she watched for the reinforcements.
However, no eleventh player came.
“…What’s going on? Why isn’t anyone else arriving?”
There was no way this channel was full with just this number of players. Sensing something amiss, Journey checked again.
“Still can’t get into the channel?”
Were they hiding to mess with her? Or had people who disliked her occupied the channel? Journey bit her nails, unease gnawing at her. A sudden, dreadful thought crossed her mind.
“Could it be…?”
Just then, as if to confirm her suspicions, a system message appeared before her and the other players.
“Modification Event....”
Journey read the message, her voice trailing off in a defeated sigh.