In a corner of Storm Heights, within Ogre Valley, over a dozen ogres were gathered around a charred wild boar, indulging in a gluttonous feast. They tore enthusiastically into the meat, leaving a chaotic mess strewn everywhere.
"Mine! It's all mine!"
"You fool, think you're worthy to fight me for it?"
Meanwhile, the tallest and fattest ogre among them knocked a companion unconscious with a single blow of his greatclub, snatched the boar leg from the fallen ogre's hand, gulped it down in a single bite, and licked his fingers with lingering hunger.
His name was Langpu, the chieftain of this ogre tribe.
Langpu had noticed that he was growing smarter and smarter. His subordinates often said so as well, though they lacked the vocabulary for such a sophisticated concept, merely saying he was "real good at finding grub."
Yet clever Langpu understood what they meant, and he relished the praise immensely.
In an ogre's lexicon, being "good at finding grub" was the highest form of praise—whether achieved with a thick club or a clever brain.
When not gorging himself, Langpu would flip through books he had looted from "little snacks." He read them with relish and learned many useful things from their pages.
For instance, from a book titled *The Adventuring Journal of Sean*, he learned that leaving a treasure chest or scattering a handful of gold coins along a road, then digging a deep pit in front of it and covering it with thatch, would quickly yield even more "little folks." The book called such a method a "trap," an elegant term Langpu liked very much.
Yet what fascinated him most was a concept called "spells" from *A Dummy's Guide to Fireball*. It allowed him to shoot fireballs bigger than a boar's head, capable of effortlessly turning a mammoth into roasted meat.
Langpu had used this very method to procure massive amounts of food and unite the ogres who previously roamed the area in small bands of two or three into a tribe numbering over twenty. After all, those who refused to join were turned into roasts by Langpu, currently resting in everyone's bellies.
This was an epoch-making achievement worthy of being recorded in ogre history—at least in Langpu's eyes—so he named the tribe "New Era," another term he had picked up from a book.
Unfortunately, no one in the ogre tribe could comprehend the name. One subordinate had even asked why they couldn't call it the "Big Chunk of Meat" Tribe instead, earning himself a brutal smash over the head from Langpu's club.
Langpu always felt a sense of exasperation toward his fellow ogres, constantly wishing they would amount to something more.
Whenever he tried to follow the instructions in *The Complete Compendium of Military Drills* and line his subordinates up in formation for an ambush, the ogres would inevitably bellow, "Meat! Meat!" and charge forward in a chaotic frenzy, wildly swinging their clubs.
He had tried teaching them to speak Common in hopes of extorting more food from humans, but beyond the three words "eat," "meat," and "food," the ogres failed to grasp a thing.
"Sigh..."
"There are still far too few smart folk in the tribe."
When not eating, Langpu often pondered such thoughts and sighed in lament.
The other ogres harbored no such worries; the moment they finished eating, their snores thundered as they lapsed into deep slumber.
Lately, he had been focusing on grooming an ogre named Datou. True to his name, Big Head had an enormous noggin that looked as big as two heads put together, and Langpu figured someone with a larger cranium might be a bit smarter.
"Boss, there's food over that way!"
The "scout" Langpu had posted called out excitedly from the hilltop.
"Datou, what's coming?"
Langpu spat out a bone in delight and clambered up the slope. An ogre, after all, was never truly full.
"A big lizard! Tons of meat!"
The ogre called Datou danced about excitedly, brandishing his spiked club.
A salamander?
Or maybe a wyvern?
Several creatures flashed through Langpu's mind, but none of them was anything to be trifled with.
"Describe what it looks like."
"Lemme look... It's the same color as fresh meat, all red, with four legs, two wings, and a tail..."
The more Langpu listened, the more alarmed he felt. He climbed to the crest of the hill himself and laid eyes on the "big lizard" across from them.
His face instantly drained of color. He delivered a vicious blow to Datou with his club, causing the already massive noggin to swell even further.
"You utter idiot!"
"That's a fucking dragon! A true dragon!"
Still seething, Langpu chased the dimwitted ogre down and beat him relentlessly until Datou wailed in agony.
Datou protested aggrievedly, "Boss, why're you hitting me? What'd I say wrong?"
"Ain't it just a big lizard?"
To be fair, compared to most of their kin, he was already considered clever. Recognizing it as a lizard rather than just yelling "Meat! Meat!" was already quite a feat.
"You're still talking?!"
"I'll teach you to talk back!"
"Stop hitting me, Boss! That... uh... dragon you mentioned is coming over!"
Datou clutched his swollen head, bawling and yelling.
Langpu lowered his club and raised his head in annoyance.
Only to see that the red dragon had already flown directly overhead, wings outstretched, casting a shadow that completely enveloped him.
Langpu engaged his clever brain to assemble his words. After a moment's hesitation, he spoke:
"Uh... Mighty, noble, and magnificent Lord Red Dragon, Datou is an uncouth and ignorant fellow. I shall discipline him thoroughly, and I humbly beseech Your Excellency not to lower yourself to taking offense at his insolence."
Considering that an arrogant true dragon hovered in the sky, Langpu had deliberately modeled his diction on the phrasing found in *The Records of Aristocratic Etiquette*.
The moment these words left his mouth, the thick, flowery bardic flair struck Cassius like a thunderbolt, nearly causing him to plummet from midair.
The red dragon offered no answer. He simply looked down from above, gazing at this self-proclaimed genius of an ogre.
Yet behind his vertical pupils lay a gleam of thinly veiled astonishment.
[Based on your personal strength, you are able to observe the following information:]
Ogre Mage
Name: Langpu
Category: Large Giant, Neutral Evil
Race: Ogre
AC: 12 (Hide Armor)
Attributes:
Strength: 18
Dexterity: 8
Constitution: 16
Intelligence: 17
Wisdom: 8
Charisma: 12
Proficiencies: Arcana +3, Hunting +4, Trapping +3, Reading +6, Military +2, Governance +4, Herbalism +2, Persuasion +2, Deception +2
Senses: Passive Perception 14 ft.
Languages: Common, Draconic, Giant
Actions: Slam, Bite, Club
Combat Equipment:
Circlet of Intellect Study: A circlet painstakingly crafted by an archmage for a dimwitted aristocratic student, capable of locking Intelligence at 17.
Ring of Arcana: Arcana +1, Reading +4
Albert's Mithral Bracelet: Automatically succeed on one saving throw against a 4th-level spell per day.
Class Level: Level 5 Wizard
Caster Level: 5
Spells:
1st-circle: None
2nd-circle: None
3rd-circle: Fireball
Challenge Rating: 6 (2,100 XP)
Evaluation: "A rare ogre mage. He is truly intelligent, so never underestimate him—otherwise, his fireball will teach you the consequence of scorning a wizard."
*Arcana, military, governance, herbalism... Adept with both pen and sword, and capable of magic to boot. This guy is quite a talent...*
Cassius could not help marveling inwardly.
An Intelligence score of 17 would make him an undeniable sage even in a human city, and in an orc tribe he would likely be hailed as a "Prophet."
Unfortunately, he was in an ogre tribe whose members knew how to do nothing but eat and sleep, relegating him to a weary chieftain slaving away to find grub for his underlings.
A headband of intellect was essentially god-tier gear in the early game.
Had Cassius been a wizard right now, he would have done everything in his power to seize it. Unfortunately, he had already embarked on the path of a sorcerer and had no immediate plans to multiclass.
For now, taking on a wizard minion sounded far more appealing.
The multiverse was vast, ripe with infinite possibilities.
When even an ogre could become a wizard, what was impossible?
At that moment, the air hung heavy and still.
One high and one low, red dragon and ogre stared blankly at each other.
Watching the seemingly lost-in-thought red dragon, Langpu gripped his club tightly. Cold sweat beaded across his brow as he prepared to construct a spell matrix in his mind.
Chapter 11