At that time, the Count and others were in worse condition than they are now and were not familiar with this place.
Choosing to settle down was entirely out of necessity because the wilderness's harshness told them that crossing it was nothing short of a dream.
But in such a good place, how could there be no one else?
He quickly moved forward until he saw the shadow, and then he slightly paused, bending down.
It was a massive figure standing a robust three meters tall, making the ground shake with its steps.
An ogre.
Cumbersome stature, bearing a big belly. A huge head with a foolish expression and a mouth full of fangs.
In its hand was a club that looked like a tree trunk, while its other hand seemed to be holding an unknown animal, munching on it.
Behind it was another ogre.
The two ogres swaggered down the path leisurely, as if they were taking a stroll.
Indeed, there was a small ogre tribe here.
Though called a tribe, it only had 5 ogres.
