I didn’t have another method of attack. I had nothing.
In the first place, it was wrong to go against someone like this with your bare fists.
This was the Corps Commander of a great country. He was a tiger and I was a cat.
That’s why they had to let me cheat a little.
Well, it’s not like there were any rules to fighting, so it wasn’t cheating.
And so I held my hands up and waited to see how he would come.
Baltasar made the most of his physical strength as he charged towards me. It was like a gust of wind. It was the correct thing to do.
It wasn’t as if any of my attacks could damage him.
And so he had realized that he should just attack me head on.
“But I knew that from the very beginning.”
I kicked forward, right into one of his legs.
As Baltasar’s leg came down, it seemed to swim in the air for a second, and then went in a direction that he had not intended it to go.
And when one lost their balance, it didn’t matter how strong your body was.
It was like slipping when walking down stairs.
For a second, Baltasar’s body moved oddly.
He righted his foot, but could not help but lean forward when he did so. Yes. It could not be helped at all.
I grabbed Baltasar and then threw myself to the floor, back first.
He was clearly confused by what had happened.
Then I rammed my foot into his stomach and pushed him into the air.
This was an overhead throw.
Once it started, there was nothing you could do about it.
I knew, because I had experienced it many times myself.
Few things were more embarrassing than being spun in the air and thrown on your back.
And we Ogres were called muscle heads for a reason.
The moment that the overhead throw was complete, I did a backflip and landed on top of him.
It was called the mount position.
“Here’s the finishing touch.”
In fact, I had thought about this part from the beginning.
I took out the broken fang from my pocket.
And while holding it like a dagger, I stabbed it into Baltasar’s right eye.
I wasn’t able to stab him. I was stopped when it was just a few centimeters away.
General Miralda had suddenly swept in and grabbed me by the wrist.
“You have the worst timing, General Miralda.”
“I was being lenient in letting it go this far.”
In other words, she would have stopped it if it was me who was about to be killed.
Still, this was bad.
If it ended here, things would differ greatly from what I had planned.
But even when I tried to move my wrist, it would not budge at all.
No, there was no point in trying to take her by surprise. It was finished.
The General must have felt my arm relax, as she let go of my wrist.
As there was no point in sitting on him anymore, I got back up to my feet.
This fight. I had fought with a certain outcome in mind, but its course was changed by force.
“Are you satisfied, Golan?”
Miralda asked with a sidelong glance.
“Yes. Have you had enough? You seemed to be thinking about something. That’s why I let you continue.”
So that’s why she hadn’t stopped me earlier.
And she was keeping the others from interfering.
“How about…you ask him, and not me?”
You can do it, Golan. This was the crucial moment.
Baltasar. Put an end to this.
“Indeed. So, Baltasar. What about you?”
Baltasar was still on the ground.
Perhaps he was shocked by what had happened. He looked stunned.
“…I let my guard down. I will win next time.”
So even a muscle head like him became timid when dealing with General Miralda.
And so I praised him in my mind. ‘Well done, Baltasar.’ It was done.
I grabbed the center pillar of the tent and with all my strength, pulled it out from the ground and threw it into the sky.
The tent was made of beast skin that had been stitched together, and it was very durable.
And so the entire thing went flying away without ripping.
As the tent disappeared, the gathered soldiers watched us in stunned silence.
This was what I had been expecting.
“Yes! Welcome back.”
Adjutant Rig made his way through the silent soldiers.
“Go fetch it from my belongings. Also, bring me a spare club as well.”
Rig dashed off.
I didn’t want to say the name of the weapon in front of the others.
But they could read the room. They knew what I meant.
“Golan. About the tent…”
Apparently, the General understood why I had gotten rid of it.
People must have heard us fighting from outside.
And so soldiers of different races had gathered around us.
All of them had more mana than me. It was incredible.
That was a Demon King’s army for you.
I kneeled next to Baltasar.
“So, how does it feel to lose to me in a fight?”
His eyes widened and the spectators began to buzz with excitement.
“I’m asking you. How does it feel to be thrown to the ground and have your bones broken?”
“You… If the General didn’t interfere, I would have…”
“Thrown to the ground…is that why he is there?”
“He lost? Sir Baltasar?”
The soldiers murmured to each other.
“Tell me! How does it feel to be both the instigator and the loser?”
“You bastard…say what you will.”
I opened my clenched fist.
There was the fang I had meant to put into Baltasar’s eye.
“Then allow me to change the question. How did it feel to have your fang knocked out? They are the pride of every Gurangatch, aren’t they?”
I waved it in front of him and then dropped it on the ground.
The reason I had meant to use it as a weapon, was because it contained lots of mana.
It would be more effective than my fist.
And so I had made breaking and acquiring it my first priority.
It landed by my feet, and so I stepped on it.
As it contained so much mana, it would not break, but the goal was to hurt Baltasar’s pride.
When I lifted my foot, it had been crushed into powder.
(…Ah, I suppose the mana had escaped.)
Once it was gone, it was like any other fang.
And the strength of an Ogre would be enough to crush it.
Baltasar, General Miralda, the soldiers, everyone including me was looking at my foot.
“I-I’ll kill you!”
Baltasar got to his feet.
“Sir Golan! I brought it.”
Rig appeared. Good timing.
“Hey, Golan. Rig came to get your weapon. Is this a Gekokujyo?”
“Again? You’re doing it again, Golan?”
“Well, Golan does like to kill his comrades.”
“Comrade killer! Comrade killer!”
My subordinates had followed Rig here.
Since when did they give me such an ominous nickname…
I worked so hard to protect my people. How am I a comrade killer?
Baltasar’s enthusiasm seemed to wane. His fists were raised, but he remained still.
It was fine. This fight was still fully under my control.