Macal was a standard Paladin of the Church of Dawn.

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't be so easily reassigned.

But Ogre had the Knight of Discipline's badge as proof.

The significance of that was entirely different.

Ogre's excuse was that the badge belonged to a deceased great knight from Notabond City, who wished for it to be returned to his homeland before he died.

Ogre fabricated his identity as the niece of the great knight—a relative.

Thus, the badge had to be carried by him.

There were certainly loopholes, but verifying them would take time, and perhaps no one would bother to check.

As long as Yard didn't see the badge, it would be fine.

In his current state, Ogre didn't believe anyone could recognize him.

Apart from the dandelion badge and some gold coins, everything else that could reveal Ogre's identity had been buried and dealt with, including the gun given by Foucault.

"Miss Geling, please."

Looking at the pitiful girl, Macal felt a surge of sympathy.

He had heard that this poor nun was almost captured and humiliated by goblins.

Fortunately, adventurers intervened.

If such a thing had happened, he would definitely have gone to eliminate those ugly creatures!

"Mm..."

Ogre made a few simple sounds; he wasn't pretending to be completely mute.

Pretending to be completely mute was too exhausting and prone to mistakes.

A half-mute combined with clumsy sign language was just right.

‘What kind of unreliable knight would suggest sending a girl through the forest like this...’

Watching the 'girl' struggle to speak, Macal began to blame the nonexistent accompanying knight in the story.

If not for the knight's sacrifice, he would have cursed more harshly in his heart.

"Aunt Mima!" Macal knocked on the door of a loft.

"Who is it?" With the sound of footsteps, the door opened, and a stout middle-aged woman greeted them.

"Aunt Mima, this is Miss Geling, she's from the church in another city and can't speak... Please take care of her."

Macal introduced Ogre to the stout woman in front of him.

In fact, it was his suggestion to the priest that allowed Ogre to stay in the village.

He felt that the town's environment wasn't suitable for a girl like Geling... and he didn't like the head paladin there.

That guy named Yard was reportedly demoted to the borderlands for accidentally letting a vampire mutant escape.

Rather than trust such an unreliable person, he'd rather help protect and care for her himself.

Looking at this girl's tender hands, she probably hadn't suffered much...

"Oh, dear, may the light of dawn heal you—my poor child." Mima quickly made a prayer gesture.

Mima was a devout follower of Dawn; despite her current stout figure, she was once the village's beauty in her youth.

"Come in quickly, don't stand outside, I'll find some pretty clothes, the poor child must have suffered a lot."

Mima warmly took Ogre's hand and led him into the room before letting go, then instructed Macal, "Little Carl, don't let the girl wait too long, take her to see her room, hmm... the one on the third floor, and tidy it up a bit."

"Uh, okay." Macal scratched his head awkwardly but didn't resist Mima's instructions.

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He owed a lot to Aunt Mima for becoming a knight of the church, so he respected her greatly, almost treating her like a mother.

"Miss Geling, let me show you around." Macal looked at the timid girl behind him, feeling a bit at a loss.

He found himself talking more than usual.

Although Ogre had used disguise techniques to alter his face and reduce his charm, his naturally outstanding appearance still earned him some points.

"Mm..." Ogre nodded.

Looking at the somewhat awkward Macal, Ogre felt his disguise was too conservative this time—he should have made himself look uglier.

"This is the study... this is the kitchen... this is Aunt Mima's bedroom, come on up..."

With Macal's introductions, Ogre began to carefully observe the room's layout, and the more he looked, the more surprised he became.

Usually, houses in such commoner villages were quite dirty and simple.

Because no one knew how long they could stay—the migration of villages was common, whether due to natural disasters or human conflicts.

So, except for town residents, most people in the borderlands didn't invest much emotion in their houses.

But this house was surprisingly clean and simple.

Many decorative items were clearly arranged with care, and Ogre even saw a few gem-encrusted sword decorations.

"Miss Geling, was your voice always like this?"

Macal regretted asking this question, silently cursing himself for being a fool.

Wasn't this question like reopening someone's wound?

He wanted to comfort the girl and get closer, but he couldn't think of what to say.

Especially since she was half-mute.

So, when he remembered she was mute, he accidentally asked the question while trying to make conversation.

Ogre didn't expect someone to ask this question either; he pretended to be mute to avoid interacting with these clergymen, yet someone asked such a question?

After a moment of silence, he nodded.

"Sorry, I forgot... if it was an injury, the priest should have healed it long ago... uh, sorry, I didn't mean to."

Macal stammered, realizing he had said something foolish again.

He hadn't talked to unfamiliar girls for a long time while training to be a qualified knight.

Especially ones that looked this good.

Ogre just smiled slightly, shaking his head to show he didn't mind.

"Look at me..." Macal slapped his forehead, scolding himself, "I'll go get you a cup of water."

Ogre continued to smile and nod.

He didn't expect that changing his identity would lead to such a change in treatment.

‘Interesting...’

Watching Macal go to fetch water, Ogre found it amusing.

Then, he began to examine his room.

Three floors... that's not common in a village.

Ogre walked to the window, opened the wooden window, and from the height of the three-story loft, he could see most of the village.

He glanced at the distant windmill and sniffed the floral scent in the air.

Suddenly, he felt this place was quite nice.

It seemed the church had indeed put some thought into it.

This loft was not simple in this small village—the height of the building indicated a high status.

And this was just the change brought by a professional paladin for his family.

‘The fastest way to change the status quo is indeed through power...’

Ogre always believed that knowledge could change life because knowledge was also a form of power.

Unfortunately, ordinary people were too busy to achieve such change, relying only on fate's favor...

Ogre looked at the distant wheat fields, where farmers were diligently harvesting the last batch of crops.

This gave Ogre a strange thought.

‘Why not let knights and martial artists do the harvesting... it would be much faster.’

But as he thought about it, Ogre suddenly realized something.

‘Maybe... this is intentional.’

He had never thought so deeply about this issue before—Ogre always thought it was natural for the strong to dominate the weak.

But he had never truly considered the relationship between the two.

‘True wealth is not how much land one owns, but the power of the strong over the weak...’

With the power held by the nobles, even without commoners, they could still function well.

A professional knight's work efficiency could match the labor of dozens.

Yet, almost no one had knights do such work.

Knights never engaged in these 'low-value' tasks—as if production and construction were merely markers of status...

‘No wonder, no one cares, and no one will care...’

Ogre suddenly understood some aspects of social civilization.

The value of commoners, besides providing potential high-quality 'lucky ones,' seemed to only serve as a distinction between high and low status.

They themselves were a form of property.

If they couldn't produce new professionals, their remaining value would be minimal.

‘No, that's not right... there should be another layer of meaning, I understand now why the Empire doesn't let professionals join production...’

The work of commoners seemed to play an indispensable role in the Empire's operation.

But perhaps more, it was just to give them a 'meaning' for existence...

Otherwise, once liberated, if even a small portion of them pursued power like Ogre, it would lead to chaos.

Martial artists, knights, mages, all had limitations of aptitude and talent.

But... there was one profession without such limitations.

That was—a wizard!

‘So, are wizards truly evil, or do they cause power upheavals...’

Regardless of the reason—

Keeping professionals out of production; keeping ordinary people 'busy' and preoccupied was indeed the optimal solution.

Ogre discovered—every seemingly irrational structure had an unknown logic operating behind it.

The world had its own rules.

"Miss, Miss Geling."

Macal called out as he came upstairs with a wooden bucket cup.

He happened to catch Ogre turning around.

Her hair fluttered in the wind, and the 'girl's' beauty left Macal momentarily dazed.

‘So... so cute.’

Macal had seen beautiful noble ladies before.

But those noble ladies were all haughty, completely different from Geling at this moment.

He couldn't say what was different, but he felt this pure beauty touched him deeply.

"Mm..." Ogre opened his mouth, then lightly touched his heart with his finger and bowed his head slightly for a moment.

This was a gesture of thanks, not only in sign language but also a respectful thank-you ritual from the Church of Dawn.

Ogre had observed and learned this himself.

After all, Ogre had worked at the Church of Dawn before.

He had used quite a bit of the paint made from ground gemstones.

"No, no need to thank me." Macal blushed slightly and quickly placed the wooden bucket cup on the wooden table, "Aunt Mima needs me, Miss Geling, you can sit here and read for a while."

Ogre politely smiled back, feeling increasingly glad he pretended to be mute.

"These are from the study downstairs, if you need anything, you can tell Aunt Mima, I'll get you paper and pen as soon as possible." Macal placed the books he was holding on the table as well.

After doing all this, he quickly left the room, closing the door behind him.

Ogre chuckled softly.

Because this was the result he wanted—the identity of a nun was the safest, most free, and broadest for exploration he could find at the moment.

‘Quite shy, reminds me of Thrandic...’

Thinking of his strange junior brother, Ogre couldn't help but sigh.

If not for wanting to know what happened to Thrandic, Ogre wouldn't have come back.

But there's no point thinking about it now...

‘Just wait... I'll find out, and about that clock tower too.’

After a slight sigh in his heart, Ogre turned his attention to the table.

The water Macal brought had tiny orange petals floating in it.

It smelled fragrant.

Clearly, some thought had gone into it.

Relying on his Ogre Physique, Ogre wasn't afraid of being poisoned, so he casually took a sip.

"Mm...?"

Though it didn't have much taste, it surprisingly felt quite good—slightly sweet, slightly bitter.

But surprise aside.

Ogre usually didn't delve too much into food, so after a brief taste, he put down the wooden bucket cup and turned his attention to the book Macal brought—"Dawn Myth."

Well, as a follower of the Church of Dawn, having a copy of Dawn Myth at home was quite reasonable...

‘Just as well, I'm bored, might as well take a look.’

The night was Ogre's main activity time.

Currently, Ogre didn't have much to do, so reading a book wasn't a bad idea.

Even though he wasn't particularly interested in this myth.

‘At this time, I should be on a mission with Foucault and the others, I wonder how they're doing...’

Ogre felt a bit guilty towards Foucault and Lange.

After all, he had just made a promise not long ago.

But Ogre also knew that showing up to find them now would only bring trouble to them and wouldn't benefit anyone.

Avoiding implicating those around him was a principle Ogre set for himself.

That's why Ogre was so concerned about Thrandic's situation—because, in a sense, it was all connected to him.

People can make mistakes, but they must recognize them.

‘With Leidy, the experienced professional, there shouldn't be any problems... hopefully.’