Madman in a Fantasy World – Chapter 29

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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Vine
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The Ogre.

Also known as a Greenskin, it was a common monster in fantasy settings.

Large, muscular, with thick, leathery skin resistant to blades, and sometimes even possessing regenerative abilities.

Isn’t “Greenskin” a bit… racist?

It felt like calling someone “blue-skinned.”

This world didn’t seem to have racial discrimination based on skin color, so maybe they didn’t realize it was offensive.

Anyway, the Ogre was their target today.

Finally, a proper monster.

Goblins were too weak.

Fighting them felt like disciplining unruly children.

War Wolves were just… dogs.

YouTube was full of dog training videos. Hunting them was easy.

And Rhino Horns were herbivores.

What was the point of defeating a peaceful creature?

It was like throwing a rock at a spider hanging from a web and claiming victory.

He had high hopes for today.

Ogres might be D-rank in this world, but they were usually depicted as much stronger in other settings.

He was practically drooling.

“Kuhehehe.”

“…Can you please stop making that creepy laugh?”

“But I’m excited. What am I supposed to do?”

Wasn’t she excited to hunt an Ogre?

“People hunt for money, not for… romance.”

So, they hunted out of necessity, not for enjoyment?

They didn’t understand the joy of hunting because they had never lived in a world without monsters.

They didn’t know the monotony of waking up at 7 AM, going to work, working tirelessly until 6 PM, getting home at 7 PM, eating dinner, having a few hours of free time, and then going to bed, only to repeat the process for decades.

And adventurers were basically freelancers. They worked when they wanted, and they didn’t have bosses or annoying coworkers.

Should I start a monster cult and spread the good word?

Monsters provided materials for weapons and armor, food, and even local specialties.

They were a valuable resource.

“So, which way do we go?”

“Left.”

“Ugh… this is such a hassle.”

A forest was a forest. What was the difference between left and right?

“It can’t be helped. The academy always gets priority.”

Damn the empire and its obsession with nurturing talent.

He should have known when Adela said the Ogres were near the academy.

It turned out today was the academy’s practical training day.

They had run into a professor earlier, who had mistaken Luke for a student because of his uniform.

The professors who knew he had dropped out just gave him a warning and told him not to wear the uniform if he wasn’t a student.

He had agreed, but he wasn’t going to change.

They’re not paying for my clothes.

Clothes were expensive.

He wasn’t going to buy new clothes just because they told him to.

“And Adela didn’t even tell us about the academy’s training exercise. That’s not very nice, is it?”

“…”

Luna gave him a look.

“What’s with that look?”

“Nothing.”

She was being vague again.

And that was the second most annoying thing, after people who didn’t finish their sentences.

“Luke, I think we’re here.”

“Really?”

He looked around.

Or rather, there was no need to look around.

“You’re amazing, Luna. How did you know we arrived?”

She didn’t have a compass or GPS.

All he saw were trees.

“I can hear it. Heavy footsteps. And I can smell it. A stench like it hasn’t bathed in years.”

She wrinkled her nose.

Being human is so convenient.

He couldn’t smell anything, and Luna was his personal navigator.

“Luke, it’s coming.”

“What is?”

“Forty-five degrees to our right.”

“What’s coming?!”

Why was she keeping him in suspense?

A tree fell, revealing a large, hulking figure.

It was over three meters tall, dark green, with a protruding jaw, tusks, and a massive wooden club.

An Ogre.

“Wow… it really does stink.”

He hadn’t noticed the smell from afar, but now that it was closer, he could smell it.

The vinegar and chili pepper mix he had used on the War Wolves was a sharp, pungent smell.

This was different.

It was a nauseating stench, a miasma of filth.

“Take a shower, you filthy animal! You stink!”

There had to be water somewhere in the forest. This thing was deliberately not bathing.

He usually got nagged, but now, nagging someone else, he understood his parents a little better.

ROAR!

The Ogre turned and roared, like a child being scolded.

“…Well done. There goes the element of surprise.”

“How could I not say anything? It’s covered in grime!”

He wanted to continue his lecture on hygiene, but the Ogre swung its massive club.

The club, whistling through the air, smashed into the trees, sending splinters flying.

“Holy shit, that’s scary.”

It was surprisingly fast for something so big and strong.

“Take this! Emerald Splash!”

He threw caltrops at the Ogre.

They bounced off its thick hide. A few stuck, but it wasn’t enough to cause any significant damage.

“Side character skills are useless.”

The Ogre approached him.

“Gotcha, you fool!”

It was less intelligent than advertised. It stepped right onto the caltrops he had just thrown.

But then, there was a problem.

ROAR!

Stomp!

“What?!”

It had stepped on the caltrops, but it continued its charge, swinging its club at him.

It seemed its feet were impervious to the spikes.

No easy wins, huh?

He’d have to try something else.

“Luna! Cut its Achilles tendon!”

Luna, who had been watching, moved swiftly.

It happened in a flash.

Once.

She darted behind the Ogre, slashing at its heel, but the thick hide resisted the blade.

Twice.

She attacked again, landing a second blow in rapid succession.

The Ogre’s Achilles tendon snapped, and it stumbled, falling to one knee.

Even with its regenerative abilities, it couldn’t heal instantly.

Time to attack.

Even the biggest, toughest feet had a weak spot.

Everyone knew the pain.

He drew his sword.

Holding it vertically, he…

“Ingrown Toenail Attack!”

…stabbed the Ogre in the toe, between the nail and the flesh.

ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAR!!!

Its cries of pain were indistinguishable from its roars, but the prolonged bellow suggested agony.

Blood spurted as the blade pierced its toe.

“That hurts, doesn’t it?!”

A normal attack would deal damage based on the difference between attack and defense, but the Ingrown Toenail Attack ignored defense, inflicting a fixed amount of pain.

It wasn’t a real ingrown toenail, but he had made it one.

He continued to stab the Ogre’s toe while its Achilles tendon regenerated.

Stab. Stab. Stab.

He was a sewing machine needle.

The Ogre’s regenerative abilities, usually an advantage, became a curse, prolonging its agony.

ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAR!!!

“Didn’t your mommy tell you to take a bath?!”

“Luke!”

“Huh?”

He turned towards Luna’s urgent call.

The Ogre’s club was coming right at him.

He raised his sword to block, but…

…he was sent flying, landing hard.

But a true man always had the perfect line for a situation like this.

“This… is… my escape route!!!”

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