Chapter 74: The Coup de Grâce

Mira, the dryad symbiotically linked with the black oak, appeared at Joan’s side. Perhaps sensing the fury of her bonded tree or simply realizing the woods she called home were being ravaged by ogres, the little tree spirit’s usual shyness was gone. With newfound courage, she joined the battle, casting spells to help “Little Black” fiercely strike back at the ogre bandits.

Joan, after all, was just a country boy who, before today, had never seen real combat. To someone of his age and experience, the bloody clash between ogres and awakened trees was overwhelming—a trembling response was only natural. Yet, seeing even Mira, usually the most timid and fearful, stand up bravely, doing all she could to fight the savage ogres, Joan was overcome with a powerful sense of shame. He couldn’t bear to simply cower in the trees, a cowardly bystander to such courage.

Just then, a chain-wielding ogre was swatted from a dinosaur’s back by “Little Black,” hitting the ground hard, head bleeding and vision spinning. Before he could rise, Mira’s summoned vines entangled him, leaving him sprawled helpless. Joan seized this perfect opportunity, casting “Mage Hand, Greater” to guide his dagger toward the ogre and drove it forcefully at the creature’s throat.

With a muffled sound, the sharp dagger sank to the hilt in the ogre’s thick neck, blood gushing like a spring. The ogre’s eyes went wide in shock; even as he died, he never understood where the dagger that pierced his throat had come from.

Suppressing his fear, Joan maintained his focus, guiding the “Mage Hand, Greater” to withdraw the dagger and wipe it clean on the ogre’s corpse, so as not to draw attention, before searching for his next target. Joan was not blind to his own limitations—a frail little mage like himself wouldn’t survive a single punch from an ogre; to face them head-on would be suicide. The only way he could fight was to hide among the trees and let his dagger silently dispatch unsuspecting foes from afar. It might be a bit underhanded, but considering the ogres were far from virtuous themselves, Joan felt justified in fighting fire with fire.

Mira, noticing Joan searching for new targets, whispered to him in the sylvan tongue. During his days in Powhatan Village, Joan had spent much time listening to Mira, Conti, Little Black, and Old White converse, picking up enough of the sprites’ and treefolk’s language to barely grasp what she meant—she seemed to be offering to help him control the enemies, making it easier for him to strike.

Regardless of whether Joan understood her, Mira began chanting her spell, pointing across the distance toward the cluster of ogres. Her magic materialized as a cloud of milky-white mist erupting in their midst. Caught off guard, the ogres inhaled the mist and immediately began to yawn uncontrollably, until irresistible waves of drowsiness overtook them and they collapsed, snoring, amidst the chaos—a strange harmony blending the sounds of slaughter and the forest with the deep, rolling snores.

Joan recognized Mira’s spell: “Deep Slumber,” a third-circle enchantment. Creatures affected by it would be overcome by sleep unless their willpower was truly formidable; otherwise, they would drop off into slumber right where they stood. Ogres, classic examples of “all brawn and no brains,” were especially vulnerable to such spells, and it was no surprise to see a whole group felled by “Deep Slumber.”

Of course, if a sleeping creature was attacked, the pain would awaken it. There was only one chance to strike—if the blow failed to kill, a roused ogre would surely bellow, waking all his slumbering comrades.

Mira was not strong, nor skilled with blades; even if handed a knife, she could not guarantee she’d finish an ogre in one stroke. So, after casting her spell, she looked to Joan for help. Joan nodded in understanding. With a thought, he sent the dagger floating toward the sleeping ogres, its cold blade flashing as it slit their throats one by one, ending the lives of those hulking brutes in their dreams.

…

Joan and Mira made a seamless team: she cast spells to put ogres to sleep, and he guided his dagger to finish them off. In just a few minutes, they had slain no fewer than ten ogres together. Joan was in the midst of the action when Mira brought him bad news—she could only cast “Deep Slumber” three times per day, and she had just exhausted her limit. She could still use “Entangle” freely, but the powerful ogres could tear through the vines by sheer strength, leaving Joan with few good opportunities for a clean kill.

As the battle dragged on, Shrek realized that his side was taking heavy losses, and further fighting would only cost more lives. Breaking through the wall of awakened plants would become harder and harder. The title “Clever King” was not given lightly. While other ogres still charged mindlessly, Shrek was already devising a new strategy. After some thought, he instructed the signalers to blow the horn in a pattern—three short notes, one long.

To coordinate in the chaos of battle, Shrek, with Casio’s assistance, had devised a series of special bugle signals, each pattern corresponding to a tactical command. Every officer had to memorize these signals and execute orders without hesitation upon hearing them. Remembering these complex codes was no easy feat for simple-minded ogres, but among thousands of fools, there were always a few with wits. Most of Shrek’s officers were chosen from these “clever ones,” ensuring his commands were followed.

The ogres fighting near the gate against the Asa defenders heard the pattern of three short and one long from afar. One group immediately responded, disengaging from combat and racing toward the sound.

This special unit, urgently summoned by Shrek, consisted of thirty particularly large and powerful ogres and three times as many goblins. The ogres wore full armor and wielded great clubs, each bearing a massive iron barrel on his back. Inside each barrel stood three small goblins, using the barrel walls as cover while hurling gnome-invented alchemical firebombs at distant foes. Should enemies draw near and threaten the goblins, the timid creatures would duck down and hide inside the barrels, leaving the club-wielding “porters” to handle the attackers.

Shrek gathered this force, known as the “Ogre Sedan Brigade,” to his side and ordered the “porters” to advance in formation. The hidden goblins rained alchemical bombs filled with “Blazing Paste” onto the awakened plants that blocked their path.

Wherever a bomb struck a tree, the ceramic casing would shatter, splattering the viscous burning gel onto the wood, which erupted in fierce flames. Thick, choking smoke billowed skyward.