After collecting today's payment from the arena, Ogre left.
As his reputation grew, fewer people dared to challenge him. Although the gold coins he earned per fight increased, the number of battles decreased.
Perhaps the apprentice-level pond was too shallow.
But come to think of it, even those rated as apprentice-level martial artists were not common among humans, which was quite different from what Ogre initially imagined.
On reflection, it made sense. Even the easiest martial artists to be rated as apprentices required training time and costs that commoners couldn't afford.
Not everyone could venture into the Demonic Beast Forest to earn money.
If not for the wealth left by his father and the abilities he possessed, Ogre would have found it difficult to become a martial artist apprentice.
Unfortunately, an apprentice is still an apprentice. Without becoming a Professional, he remains a mere mortal. Despite easily defeating apprentices, Ogre couldn't last even two rounds against a Professional.
Each profession has clear criteria for being rated as a Professional—
A knight who has completed the Circle of Life interaction and fully activated their Battle Qi.
A martial artist who has achieved Three Qi Unity and developed vitality and rage energy.
A mage who has condensed their own Mana Core.
A wizard who has perfectly mastered Extraordinary Witchcraft Power by consuming a forbidden potion.
And an Imagist who has fully blossomed their Seed of Imagination.
These are all beyond Ogre's current reach...
"I still have a chance."
Ogre skillfully weaved through the streets. By the time he emerged, the aura he had in the arena was no longer visible. No one would suspect that this unremarkable boy was the strongest King of the Arena at the apprentice level.
He touched the meditation technique he had won, hidden within his disguise, and smiled.
His path as an Imagist might still have a chance.
The strength of an Imagist lies in the fact that once the Seed of Imagination is nurtured, one can almost certainly become a Professional.
Although Imagists are considered the weakest Professionals, even the weakest is still a Professional.
As long as one is a Professional, they are strong, they are noble!
In truth, if possible, Ogre would prefer to be a martial artist, as his innate abilities are more suited to assisting him in becoming one.
Of course, if the Imagist path fails, Ogre would have to seek a way to become a wizard through the black market...
***
"Look who's here, isn't it our little Oggy?" The restaurant owner greeted Ogre warmly. He liked this little guy in front of him: "Did you finish today's mural work?"
He was referring to the recent mural restoration work by the Church of Dawn, an area where Ogre had shown considerable talent.
Perhaps, if he performed well, he could stay in the church. Although the Church of Dawn wasn't as large as the Church of Truth, it was still a significant force.
Ogre shook his head, "I'm just about to go, Uncle Buck, but I need to eat first..."
If there were no hatred, he would also like to stay in the Church of Dawn and become a muralist or sculptor. He had loved drawing and stone carving since childhood, one of his few hobbies.
It's just a pity.
"Of course, you need to eat well to have energy. Do you want anything different, or the usual?"
"The usual, thanks, Uncle Buck." Ogre nodded, taking out the copper coins he had exchanged in a previous transaction from his bag.
After receiving a nod from the owner known as Uncle Buck, Ogre found an empty spot by the wall and began waiting for his meal.
In the meantime, he took out the replica of the meditation technique and began reading.
The meditation technique was wrapped in a cover of miscellaneous books, so there was no worry of it being recognized.
"Father, who are those statues?" The voice of a child at the next table reached Ogre's ears.
The word "father" stirred some memories in Ogre, causing him to glance slightly sideways.
"Those are the two Legendary Knights, Dusk and Dawn, who liberated the slaves thousands of years ago." The father was dressed in standard clerical attire.
It seemed he was also from another city.
'Recently, there have indeed been more people from other cities here.'
Ogre could keenly sense that something was about to happen in this remote small town of his...
Was it territorial expansion or a trade boom?
Whatever it was, it had nothing to do with him.
"But, Father, why do we still have slaves now if they were already liberated?"
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"Those are Foreign Races, not humans..."
Listening to the father and son's conversation, Ogre couldn't help but clench his fist.
Foreign Races... Others, such simple rejection, cost his father his life.
But soon, he released his grip.
Because Ogre had to admit that conflicts between races always existed. If humans didn't send Professionals and armies to clear out Demonic Beasts and Foreign Races, they would invade humans.
Intelligent life and low-intelligence life are inherently unequal. Farming or resources, including the meat everyone eats, are all contested.
The existence of life is inherently a process of survival of the fittest. The death of life is just a part of the cycle... It's just that every time he recalls it, it's hard to forget.
'Perhaps, in the eyes of Demonic Beasts and other life forms, humans are more like omnivorous beasts, as humans often don't spare their own kind.'
Ogre had witnessed betrayal within a team—just for wealth or a bottle of potion.
He had also witnessed the lives of the lower-class commoners, facing the same dangers, living in constant fear...
"Oggy."
The one bringing the food was Uncle Buck's daughter. She looked nothing like the rugged owner, a beauty with many admirers—some said she was an orphan adopted by Uncle Buck, as no one had ever seen his wife.
"Thank you, Sister Norse."
Ogre forced a slight smile, though it appeared a bit stiff due to his disguise.
Fortunately, Norse and the others were used to it, assuming Ogre had a poker face.
"I didn't order milk."
Ogre was slightly surprised when he saw the food, feeling a bit of warmth inside.
He didn't come here to eat often, only after battles to replenish his strength and change his taste.
Usually, he ate portable high-energy food.
"You're growing, eat more, consider it a gift from your sister." Norse waved her hand with a smile and then disappeared into the kitchen.
She and Uncle Buck had a good reputation in the area. The local mercenary groups and church members would tacitly take care of them due to their usual conduct.
Over time, this place became a haven where all external conflicts would stop.
"Perhaps, this is what Father meant by good people..."
The deeper he delved into human society, the more Ogre could feel the difference between civilization and barbarism.
Perhaps civilization is just a veneer over barbarism, but it is this veneer that allows more so-called good people to remain in this survival-of-the-fittest world.
Unity is the best survival strategy for the weak.
Most people instinctively yearn for goodness, but this goodness is often narrow, established on the subjugation of other races.
It has always been this way.
After devouring two servings of food, Ogre stretched his body, picked up his bag, and set off on his journey.
"Child, being weak doesn't necessarily mean being enslaved or beaten, but that's only because the strong don't want to act. In this world, only one's own strength is the true principle. We cannot place our hopes on the kindness of other races. Besides, someone has to do the work of slaves. If we don't use the slaves of other races, then those enslaved might be people like you and me..."
The clerical father patiently explained to his child why some weak races could exist and why there were still slaves among Foreign Races.
But all this, Ogre could no longer hear.
As Ogre left, the clerical father instinctively glanced toward the door.
"Was it an illusion?"
He sensed a hint of a predator's aura in that young man.
-----------------
Chapter 6
"Thank you, big brother," the little girl beside him said gratefully to Ogre.
Ogre had just helped her get the cat down from the tree.
"Claw Cats aren't suitable as pets," Ogre warned the girl reaching out for the cat.
He didn't want the cat to hurt the girl—perhaps it reminded him of his own Magic Rabbit.
When he first got it, it kicked him a few times, but after Ogre ate a rabbit leg in front of it, it behaved.
However, cats are much harder to tame than Magic Rabbits.
"Little Miao is not just any cat," the girl said, feeling sorry for the cat that was frantically being held by the scruff of its neck by Ogre.
"Alright," Ogre said, not wanting to argue with someone so stubborn.
After all, it wasn't his business; it just reminded him of the old days.
"Meow!—Meow..." The Claw Cat, once in the girl's arms, bared its teeth at Ogre.
But when it met Ogre's ogre-like gaze, it immediately calmed down...
It felt like that guy might really eat it.
"Thank you, brother. Let's go, Miao Miao," the girl smiled at Ogre and skipped away.
"Such energy," Ogre remarked sincerely.
He saw himself in that child.
If he could always live carefree, maybe he would be like that too.
With a sigh, Ogre brushed the dust off his clothes and continued towards the Church of Dawn.
Unlike the Church of Truth, which accepts all Professionals, the Church of Dawn still adheres to the old doctrine of only accepting Knights and rejecting Mages.
The Church of Dawn worships the God of Dawn.
They believe the God of Dawn created all things.
Besides the mainstream professions, the Church of Dawn has its own unique profession—the God-Given.
They can also be called Priests or Paladins, and they use a power called Holy Light.
Ogre didn't know if their power truly came from a god, but he had only seen those unique Professionals at the Church of Dawn.
***
"Oggy, you almost came late," the guard at the back door of the Church of Dawn joked familiarly.
"I ran into something on the way," Ogre scratched the back of his head, acting his age.
"Go on in, Lord Yard is waiting for you. Remember to wake up early next time," the guard nodded his head to signal Ogre to enter.
He felt sorry for Ogre.
Unfortunately, Ogre didn't have the qualifications to be a Knight or an Imagist, and the Church of Dawn only accepted Knights and Imagists. In Ogre's situation, he couldn't become a Paladin or a Priest.
Otherwise, he would have vouched for Ogre to join the church.
In fact, there were many diligent orphans like Ogre, even the guard himself was an orphan.
It's mainly this world's fault...
Some of these children were abandoned, some were harmed by Demon Beasts, and some were the orphans of Professionals.
Because of these motivated children, the two major churches that adopted orphans grew stronger.
It's a kind of irony, really.
"Thank you," Ogre nodded politely and entered through the back door of the old church hall.
Two rows of walls stood at the back door, adorned with murals that were already antiques.
One could faintly feel the past glory of the Church of Dawn from these faded paintings—and this was just a branch in a small border town.
It's said that thousands of years ago, the Church of Dawn had more than half of the Transcendents on the continent, so grand that it could influence the entire continent's situation. The legendary Dusk Knight who liberated the slaves came from here.
Ogre's job here was to restore the murals.
Of course, he didn't seek this job out, although he did enjoy painting.
"You went to the arena again."
"Yes, Teacher Yard, I just..." Ogre's words were cut off by the white-robed man raising his hand to stop him.
"Ogre, if you believe you haven't done anything wrong, you don't need to explain your actions or prove yourself," the white-robed man said word by word, handing Ogre some paint.
This white-robed man was Lord Yard, the priest of this branch of the Church of Dawn; he also served as the head Paladin.
He was a powerful, seasoned Professional.
Unlike the Church of Truth, which advanced its ideals differently, the Church of Dawn treated all humans equally, though only humans.
When faced with hybrid human mutants—like werewolves or vampires—they showed their ruthless side, often burning them alive.
It didn't matter if they were born that way or infected later.
'Kindness to mutants is cruelty to humans; every mutant is a potential criminal!'
This was the Church of Dawn's slogan, and their thunderous methods won them a lot of support from commoners.
Of course, the Church of Truth wasn't very accepting of highly intelligent mutants either, just less extreme.
"Yes, Teacher Yard," Ogre said, taking the paintbrush and nodding.
No matter the situation, one must respect the strong.
This was his father's advice to him.
Moreover, Yard was his mentor; although Ogre wasn't qualified to join the Church of Dawn, Yard still taught him Martial Skills and basic Breathing Techniques.
According to Yard, these weren't things of the Church of Dawn, just his personal teachings.
In exchange, Ogre was given some work, the pay wasn't high, but it was enough for meals.
Restoring murals was just one of his tasks, but Ogre's talent for painting was exceptionally high, earning praise from the old mural master. After that, restoring murals became Ogre's exclusive job.
"Ogre, your hand isn't as steady as it used to be. Your mind is restless. Is something bothering you?"
Yard's talent in painting was average, but his observation of body changes was top-notch.
This was related to Ogre's current state; he was indeed a bit distracted today—eager to go back and practice the new Meditation Technique.
And to quickly complete the new 'feeding.'
When someone has something on their mind, their actions naturally become different.
"It's like this, I got a new Meditation Technique..." Ogre couldn't mention the feeding, the Ogre Lunchbox ability had to remain his secret, he wouldn't tell anyone.
As he spoke, he stopped and took out the Meditation Technique from his pocket.
The Meditation Technique was very important for a Martial Artist Apprentice.
But for Knights, it was really useless, Knights didn't need to balance the Three Qis, they could fully activate their exclusive Battle Qi during the completion of the Circle of Life.
Of course, if Knights were to practice Meditation Techniques, it would be difficult, as the Battle Qi in their bodies would interfere with the meditation process.
"Let me see."
Yard naturally took the packaged Meditation Technique from Ogre and flipped through it.
After a moment, he handed the Meditation Technique back: "There's nothing wrong with it, you can try it. If you cultivate a Seed of Imagination, I can recommend you to the main city as a Priest."
A Priest, huh...
To be honest, Ogre wasn't interested. The reason he chose the Church of Dawn over the Church of Truth, besides some special reasons, was mainly to learn how to better deal with the Goblin King and the Ogre Chief. Without the corresponding qualifications, he was absolutely free, so it was no loss. If he joined the Church of Truth, it wouldn't be as easy.
But if Ogre were to join the Church of Dawn as a Priest, he'd rather not. He didn't like the position, in fact, he didn't like any job that would restrict him, it would affect his plans.
But he didn't refuse, just nodded.
Seeing Ogre's actions, Yard understood his answer, he knew what Ogre wanted most was probably revenge.
This was what many children who joined the Church of Dawn wanted to do, faith often paled in comparison to blood vengeance.
"Ogre, calm your heart, don't let hatred consume you. Strengthening yourself is the foundation of revenge," Yard turned and took the church's doctrine from the confession booth.
"Hatred is a companion of wisdom given by the gods, it spurs living beings forward, like charcoal burning in a brazier—intense yet short-lived.
The wood is most brilliant when it burns, but trees do not exist to burn, nor do they burn when strong."—"Words of the Dawn God"
Yard closed the Words of the Dawn God, he had just recited the church's interpretation of hatred.
Those driven by hatred often fall because of it.
Hatred must not be forgotten, but one cannot live solely for it.
He assigned Ogre work to calm his heart.
"I understand, Teacher."
Ogre carefully put away the Meditation Technique and nodded solemnly.
After all, he was just a child, sometimes there were things he overlooked.
"Ogre, you can leave today's work for now."
As Ogre picked up the brush again, Yard spoke once more, his golden eyes exuding an undeniable gentle authority: "Come with me."