Chapter 489 - 488: Mog’s Master

Chapter 489: Chapter 488: Mog’s Master

These men were dressed in casual attire and approached with goblets in hand.

"Greetings, Dragon Slayers." One of them said with a smile, while the others nodded in acknowledgment.

Colin and his party smiled and returned the gesture.

It was worth noting that the system of nobility in this region differed slightly from that of Thousand Masts City.

Thousand Masts City had titles like Earl and Baron, and even further south, there were powerful dukes.

Here, however, all nobles aside from the Weston Clan were, in principle, of equal rank.

According to local parlance, they were collectively called "Vorakhta," which meant "the battle-worthy."

However, due to disparities in wealth and strength, the lesser nobles still had to serve the more powerful ones. Thousand Masts City, for its part, would forcibly assign them ranks using titles like Earl and Baron.

In short, the hierarchical system here was rather chaotic.

Additionally, Colin had heard that according to this system of ranks, the heavily armored noble Knights included three Barons. The rest were Knights and knight’s squires who served under them.

In other words, for this battle, Albert had urgently mobilized all the elite forces from three Baronies—and affluent ones from the southwest, at that.

After a while, the seats around the three long tables were nearly full. Finally, Albert came downstairs and took his place at the head of the main table.

He raised his goblet and announced, "Alright, everyone! We’ve survived another day and driven back our enemies! It’s time to enjoy this feast to the fullest!"

With that, Albert took a drink from his goblet. The soldiers seated in the hall immediately erupted in loud cheers, then drained the cups before them.

Following suit, Colin and his party downed a cup of mead just like everyone else.

Several Attendants hurried over with pitchers to refill everyone’s cups.

Next, the nobles rose with their goblets.

One of them shouted, "We didn’t play a major role in this battle! The ones who truly broke the Orcs’ spirit were this party of Adventurers! I’m sure you’ve heard their name—what is it?"

"The Foreigners!" "The Dragon Slayers!"

The other soldiers at the tables raised their goblets and roared in agreement.

"Glory to the Foreigners!" The nobles raised their goblets and drank again. Everyone else followed, downing their drinks.

’Some kind of welcoming ceremony, I suppose.’

As this thought crossed his mind, Colin drank another cup of mead.

With that, the feast officially began.

Attendants brought out copper basins of water for the guests to wash their hands. The people in the hall cheered loudly, grabbing food from the tables and digging in.

White beer foam sprayed through the air, and the warm aroma of mead wafted about.

The Attendants bustled about, quickly refilling any empty goblets.

"Colin, you should eat too," Albert said with a smile, goblet in hand. "Or are you feeling a little out of place in a castle hall?"

"Perhaps," Dorn said with a sly grin. "Most people do feel a bit out of place in unfamiliar surroundings."

"I’d imagine so," chimed in Mikhailo, who was in on the joke.

Albert could only offer a helpless smile.

Colin paid them no mind. He picked up his knife, sliced off a piece of leg from the roasted suckling pig, and lifted it to his mouth on the point of the blade.

The pig’s skin was crispy and aromatic, and the meat was delicate and tender. It had a subtle, milky fragrance, followed by the scent of cinnamon. Clearly, it had been seasoned with plenty of spices.

The others followed suit and began to enjoy the food on the table.

After a while, the noble Knights, now slightly tipsy, grew restless. They began leaving their seats to mingle and chat with acquaintances.

Before long, the main table was left with only Albert, Mikhailo, Colin’s party, and a few Orcs who had come over to chat with Kase.

Kase and Dorn, both avid drinkers, were soon roaring drunk with the Orcs.

As they were eating, Mog silently removed the Bucket Helmet from his head. He revealed a typical Ogre’s face, but unlike other Ogres, his lacked their usual ferocity and greed, possessing instead a somewhat simple, good-natured look.

Seeing him remove his Helmet, the others all turned to look.

"Mr. Mog usually keeps his helmet on, just lifting it a crack to eat," Orelia said, surprised. "Why take it off today?"

"Mog thinks there’s lots of good food. Eating meat in big bites is more comfortable," the Ogre said. He then tore off a pork rib, stuffed it into his mouth, and after a couple of powerful chews, spat out a few bones.

At this, Albert spoke up. "Mog, may I ask who your master is? And where might they be now?"

Hearing this, Mog frowned.

Guessing that Albert wanted to hire the Ogre long-term, Colin quickly shot him a warning look.

Albert blinked back innocently, as if to say he didn’t know what the issue was.

This time, however, Mog didn’t suddenly get angry.

He pointed to the skeleton on his shoulder. "This is my master." ℴ

Colin examined the skeleton closely.

’There’s no trace of Magic on it... Could it be a high-quality magical surveillance device? Is Mog’s master able to see everything through the Skeleton’s skull?’

Albert had the same thought as Colin and began introducing himself to the skull. "Greetings, sir. My apologies for the late introduction. I am..."

"Master hasn’t spoken in a long time," Mog said. "Mog thinks she can’t hear you, little man."

The group exchanged a look. ’So... his master is dead, isn’t she?’

Ale and Orelia sighed in unison.

In their eyes, the Ogre before them was a living tragedy—raised as a slave by his master, he was completely incapable of caring for himself. He could only survive by clinging to the fantasy that his dead master was still alive, giving himself a reason to go on.

Albert cleared his throat. "In that case, would you be interested in my offer of employment, Mr. Mog?"

"Cannot do. Mog still has to mix Master’s potion," Mog said, gnawing on a leg of lamb. "Once the potion is mixed, Master will be able to speak again."

He hesitated for a moment, then looked at Colin. "Right. You are a Caster. Mog has something to ask you. Mog trusts you."

"What is it?"

"Mog keeps failing to mix the potion. Mog thinks Mog must be doing it wrong. Smart Mage will know why," Mog said, taking out a slip of paper and handing it over.

’This must be the note he was looking at on the rock ledge last time.’

With that thought, Colin took the tattered slip of paper and read its contents.

The beginning was simple, listing ingredients like "Night-cap Mushroom from the Supreme Forest" and "Green Dragon Moss from Snow Deer Valley." The quantities for the ingredients, however, were only stated in brief.

But the more Colin read, the more peculiar it seemed.

The listed ingredients spanned numerous locations, from Snow Deer Valley to the area around the Holy City. Gathering them all would require a journey across the entire Northern Lands. Factoring in the time needed to find the herbs, it would be nearly impossible to collect everything within a year without using Teleportation Magic.

The instructions also specifically mentioned that the herbs could not be chilled in any way; at most, they could only be wrapped in cloth.

’If they’re only wrapped in cloth, how could the herbs possibly not spoil? And would spoiled herbs even be useful?’

"Orelia, come take a look at this," Colin called out, unsure what to make of it.