"Another new day."

Sunlight pierced through the clouds, awakening Ogre from his meditation.

Though it wasn't his first time witnessing the dawn's glow, he still found beauty in nature's display.

In truth, the purple dawn was a daily occurrence, but few had the leisure to appreciate it.

"The wax and grease should have solidified by now."

Rising from the Demon Claw Eagle's nest, Ogre glanced at the disguise materials he'd left to set overnight.

With limited resources, he'd have to make do.

This time, his disguise would be somewhat unique, requiring no major alterations.

"Better eat something first." After a night of training and meditation, his stomach was understandably hungry.

Since the disguise materials were makeshift, so too would be his breakfast, sourced from his surroundings.

He planned to eat Demon Claw Eagle eggs and wings.

The approaching winter made storing food outdoors quite easy.

Gathering some dry wood, Ogre brought up the Demon Claw Eagle's nest—it was perfect for kindling a fire.

Apart from lacking bowls and utensils, the Demon Claw Eagle had provided everything else.

It made Ogre feel a bit embarrassed.

With a spark of electricity at his fingertips, the fire was quickly lit.

The swirling smoke could ward off some beasts, though it might attract a few demon beasts.

Surviving in the jungle required learning to conceal one's presence; making smokeless charcoal was the first survival skill his father taught him.

Now, with his growing strength.

This skill was no longer necessary for Ogre.

He had long since gained the power to make fire without worrying about smoke revealing his location—such was the confidence that came with strength.

With power nearly reaching that of a Professional.

In the outskirts of the Demon Beast Forest and mountains, there was little danger; if he couldn't win a fight, he could always flee.

"It's a pity though..."

Cracking open the roasted egg, Ogre retrieved his personal notebook—his biggest regret from escaping was that it had been soaked and ruined.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Staring at the now useless, irreparably damaged notebook.

"Never mind, the contents about dawn are useless now anyway..."

With a sigh, Ogre tossed it into the fire.

A farewell to the past.

No matter how clever the plan, there would always be imperfections...

But he would never give up the slightest chance to resurrect his father.

"If only I had a spatial item," Ogre thought of the ring on Foucault's hand.

He had to admit, when Foucault was around, things were indeed more convenient.

After finishing his hastily prepared meal, Ogre cleaned up any traces of his presence, tied his pack to his spear, and left the cliff.

……

"Burn her!"

"Burn her!"

In a small village, a rare gathering of villagers had formed.

In this era of scarce entertainment, any unusual event drew people's attention.

The Church of Dawn's guards maintained order in the village but didn't stop the enthusiastic shouts.

To them, it seemed normal.

At the center of the villagers' focus was a girl tied to a stake.

"Sinner Myunado, you have violated the Empire's laws, harboring mutants, crafting and consuming forbidden potions, crimes unforgivable! You shall face the purifying fire at dawn!"

As the white-robed priest finished the proclamation.

The villagers' cries reached a fever pitch.

"Burn the witch!"

"Harboring mutants, serves her right, burn her!"

The crowd's fervor had unknowingly turned into a frenzy; many hadn't been this passionate, but caught up in the moment, they all shouted 'burn her.'

Perhaps, they weren't lacking in children; these people didn't know what forbidden potions truly were.

Nor did they understand why they were prohibited.

They simply followed the crowd, as if joining in some festival.

The torches drew near.

The girl on the stake showed no fear—she merely curled her lips in disdain, as if mocking the ignorance of the world.

"Myunado, do you admit your guilt?" the white-robed priest asked routinely.

Though the ritual served no real purpose, it didn't hinder their proceedings.

In the words of the Church of Dawn—every soul has the right to speak.

"I was born free, hahaha! And so shall I die, cages and lies cannot bind me, pitiful mortals... has your god ever bowed to answer?"

The witch's maniacal laughter starkly contrasted with her battered body.

"Unrepentant! Sinner, you are unworthy of true purification!"

The white-robed priest's once gentle voice now carried a hint of anger.

He was not angered by the witch's attitude, but by her blasphemy against the God of Dawn.

As his voice fell, the fire punishment commenced as scheduled.

"Hahaha! You're afraid... ahahaha..."

The witch did not scream in agony from the flames.

She continued to laugh loudly, as if she were not the one being punished.

As the flames consumed her.

The witch's laughter gradually faded with her body, turning to ash and smoke.

'False freedom, meaningless, changing nothing, just another form of escape...'

In the crowd, a 'nun' carrying a basket silently judged.

This 'nun' was Ogre in disguise.

Using the badge Yard had left him, Ogre successfully fabricated an identity—a nun from Notabond City.

As for why a nun and not a priest.

Naturally, because a nun was easier to disguise as.

To become a priest, one must first be a cleric, and clerics were, in strict terms, a derivative branch of Imagists.

Disguising as a priest was too easily exposed.

Disguising as a mute nun was much simpler.

With a badge and a forged document, it was done.

Would he be discovered?

Certainly, he would be.

But so what, it was only a temporary identity; Ogre didn't plan to stay long.

A legitimate identity allowed him to re-enter human society in another way.

The gender error also made it easier for Ogre to hide himself, and he felt no shame in the disguise.

"Brother Geling, your experience is truly regrettable... if you don't mind, you can stay with us for a while, until the church verifies and assigns you a new knight companion."

After executing the fire punishment, the white-robed priest approached Ogre.

Ogre's excuse was that his accompanying knight had taken 'her' through the forest to save time, but unfortunately, they encountered ogre marauders... to protect 'her,' the knight had died in the Demon Beast Forest.

And 'she' had only left the forest by sheer luck.

In fact, it was true that a few adventurers had 'rescued' him; when they found Ogre, 'she' was still being chased by goblins, which greatly increased his credibility.

As for communication, Ogre cleverly used sign language and writing to create favorable conditions for himself.

Originally, his father had learned simple sign language to avoid revealing his accent when communicating with humans, until he became more fluent in the language and no longer needed it.

Thus, Ogre naturally knew some basic sign language.

As for where the female attire came from...

Well, it was actually found in the goblin's lair; after some searching, Ogre found a nun's robe left by a deceased nun.

This inspired him to assume the false identity of a nun.

"Hmm..."

Ogre mimicked the sound of a half-mute person, then used simple sign language and nodding to express agreement.

Notabond City wasn't exactly on the other side of the forest, but it was roughly a corner's distance away.

To verify, a round trip would take at least a week.

"Macal, in the meantime, please take care of Sister Geling's accommodations," the white-robed priest instructed the accompanying knight.

He wasn't entirely convinced that someone like Ogre could traverse the forest.

But Ogre had presented the Church of Dawn's high knight-level badge...

Such an item wasn't something an ordinary person could obtain.

So ultimately, he could only attribute Ogre's forest crossing to luck.

"Yes, Priest..."