Chapter 24: If You're Sending Us to Die, Put Your Life on the Line Too

After a good night’s rest to heal our minds and bodies, we gathered at the acting village chief’s house.

…Or well, to be honest, I didn’t actually get much rest.

Last night, after my conversation with Raiga, my face was burning hotter than when I’d first gone out.

And when I returned to the former village chief’s home—now technically Rizel’s place—I just staggered straight to bed like I was feverish or something.

I ended up falling asleep without even saying goodnight to the other two.

But then I woke up before dawn, replaying everything in my head and writhing around in bed muttering, “Mmmgh!” and “Nnghaa!”—completely incapable of forming real words.

Mentally, I was honestly kind of wrecked.

—Back when I was a guy, getting stared at by him didn’t faze me at all!

I mean, if it had fazed me back then, that would’ve been a serious problem.

And when Rizel murmured at breakfast,
“So you are dating after all, huh~,”
I really, really wanted to believe I imagined that.

...Anyway, back to the point.

We had just one thing on the agenda:
How to slow down the ogre assaults on this village.

It was partly moral duty—I wanted to help the elves surviving under such brutal conditions. But it was also a bit of calculation—I wanted Rizel to join us. I entered the discussion with those two conflicting feelings tangled up inside me.

“Let’s start by reviewing the situation.”

At my prompt, Rizel began to explain.

She was currently the most experienced when it came to fighting the ogres. And she didn’t seem the least bit hesitant—she spoke with calm confidence.

“The ogres always attack during the day. I’m guessing their goal is to break the barrier or something. Honestly though, I’d love it if they came at night instead—especially on a moonlit night. That’s when I’m really in my element.”

Werewolves, as a species, are more nocturnal than not. Just like in our world’s folklore, it’s said they’re at their strongest under the light of the full moon.

Apparently, the ogres attack roughly once every two days. The frequency is high, but the number per attack is pretty small.

“It’s usually five or six at a time, so I’ve been able to handle them on my own,” Rizel added.

“That many every other day is a lot. It’s more natural to assume they’ve got a nest somewhere,” I said.

“...The fact that they’re being sent in piecemeal is also concerning,” Karen added.

“Yeah. If they really had that many ogres, then—like, wouldn’t sending fifty of them every ten days be way more efficient?” I replied.

Karen’s point was absolutely valid.

I’ve played my share of strategy sims, and spreading out your attacks like that is just wasteful. It’s the kind of rookie move that bleeds resources for nothing.

If this really is just some primitive hive-mind behavior, like bugs diving into a bug zapper without thought, then maybe it’s not that big of a deal.

But this isn’t a game.

You can’t just hit reset if you misread the situation. You can’t just roll a new character because yours died.

Naturally, we had to assume there was some intent behind their strategy.

That said, we couldn’t afford to just stay holed up here forever. We said we’d prioritize ogre extermination, but our real target was the Demon Dragon.

We had to accept some degree of risk and keep moving forward.

In the end, the plan we settled on was extremely simple.

We’d drive off the attacking ogres until they were half-crippled, then let one escape on purpose. By tailing it, we’d locate the general position of their nest, and then Raiga, Karen, and Rizel would launch a surprise attack.

It was so straightforward it bordered on primitive—but honestly, it was the best I could come up with.

Just the three of them—and one we’d only just met. No way we could pull off anything complex as a team. Sure, complicated strategies might look effective at first glance.

But like a watch that stops ticking the moment one tiny gear goes missing, a single miscalculation can throw everything into disarray.

“...What if they attack the village while we’re gone?” Raiga asked.

The village chief responded.

“This barrier appears to have the power to repel monsters corrupted by miasma. I can’t say how it would fare against a large force, but it should hold for a little while.”

Exactly what I’d expected.

Otherwise, Rizel would never have been able to go out hunting. If one well-timed ambush was enough to break through, she’d have been taken down long ago.

Ignoring the possibility of a large-scale attack on purpose, I smiled and said,

“It’s fine. You three will have finished them off by then, right?”

I winked as I said it, and didn’t comment on the flush that crept over Raiga’s face.

Then I turned to Karen.

“Karen, I’m counting on you. I think magic’s going to play a big role in this operation.”

If Raiga and Rizel’s attacks were precise, focused strikes, then Karen’s magic would be the wide-area blast—suppressive, sweeping.

In a small-scale skirmish, magic is harder to use freely—one wrong shot and you risk friendly fire. But the more enemies there are, the more her spells could truly shine.

From what I’d heard, ogres weren’t particularly resistant to magic. Their hardened, iron-like bodies might be impressive, but they had no defense against lightning or fire.

A single wide-area spell could deal a devastating blow.

“I wish I could use magic, you know? But I’ve got zero talent for it. Even though my mom’s an elf!” Rizel pouted, lips sticking out.

I smiled gently at her and declared:

“The ambush goes down tomorrow! I’m counting on all three of you!”