Ogre horns are, depending on the tribe, a vital part of their identity. After all, they’re a race known for specializing in combat. Sure, their massive builds and developed canines are definitely ogre-like, but it’s the horns—seemingly governing their fighting spirit and attack power—that truly symbolize an ogre, and no one would argue otherwise.
Therefore, ogres value their horns immensely. Since horns are growing organs, they require constant maintenance. Shaping them, adjusting their length, or even carving symbolic patterns into them – these kinds of modifications are always being done, depending on the tribe.
But this is something an ogre wouldn’t let just anyone do, even among friends. Doing it themselves is a point of pride for ogres. While many other races don’t even notice the effort involved, there are actually trends and fads in horn modification. Some ogres might cut their horns to split at the tip, carve evenly spaced nodes along them, or sharpen them to a deadly point – all sorts of crazes have come and gone.
“Well, I thought it looked cool when I was younger,” is a common excuse from middle-aged ogres. From a structural standpoint, none of these modifications are advantageous, but surviving countless scraps with those impractical horns intact looks incredibly impressive to hot-blooded young ogres. Though usually, they end up regretting their ambition when the horn snaps mid-effort.
Anyway, back to the point. Arnie Boyd, a recruit (a nineteen-year-old, pure-hearted Ogre male), has never been involved in any of that wild horn modification. After all, he’s a dual-horned ogre who only has one horn left. Due to various circumstances, the other was yanked out from the root and never grew back again. That alone makes him look pretty bad even by ogre standards.
Even so, he took good care of the remaining horn until it snapped a few months ago. Well, it was in exchange for saving a life and getting a girlfriend, so he was mostly okay with it. But now that it’s grown quite a bit again, he’s wondering what to do about it.
“Yo, Boyd, what’re you staring at in the mirror for?”
“Oh, Gregman.”
Arnie was gazing into his hand mirror, deep in thought, when his colleague, Greg Gregman, a recruit (a dwarf), called out to him. A recruit is basically an apprentice soldier, the lowest rank. Greg and Arnie are in the same cohort and rank, so he wouldn’t get mad if Arnie didn’t use honorifics, but Greg, being a dwarf with bear-like facial hair, somehow made it difficult for the younger Arnie to just call him by his first name.
“A guy staring at a hand mirror with a hundred expressions is kinda creepy, ya know?”
“Ah, ahaha… well, it’s about my horn, actually.”
“Oh, your horn, huh?”
About 20% of the Celesta Northern Legion Crossbow Corps, where Arnie serves, are ogres – surprisingly high for a support unit. Naturally, they have strong opinions about horns and can tell Arnie just how special, or rather, pathetic, his situation is.
Greg remembered that and made a subtle face. He’s not good at comforting people. And Arnie panicked at the subtle expression.
It’s not that he’s worried about the broken horn. “N-no, it’s just… I was wondering if it’s okay to start shaping my horn into a cone now…”
“Ah, yeah, that’s how much was broken off when it snapped.”
Greg made a gap of about 5cm with his fingers. Arnie felt like it was a bit more, but oh well, details. It can’t be helped if others don’t remember it.
“Yeah, something like that. But it’s grown quite a bit now, so I was thinking maybe it’s time.”
“Well, if you want, I could lend you a sharp knife.”
“N-no, I have tools for maintenance, though.”
The problem was whether he should really do it or not. From an aesthetic standpoint, there’s no reason not to. But other than that…
Arnie’s girlfriend, Sylvia MacLean (a human woman who will be twenty in just a little while, and also pure-hearted), was saved from a near-suicide attempt with a runaway carriage by Arnie’s selfless rescue. Currently, she cherishes the horn that broke off at that time as a necklace.
I was really happy when she seemed pleased with the gift, but ever since then, I’d occasionally touch that broken horn stub and silently thank her for our meeting, or thank fate. But it’s become a problem because it’s mostly used for some kind of smug bragging—stuff like, “Hey, Arnie, you still doing that?”
Now, that broken horn is one of the bonds between us. But I’m conflicted about whether it’s okay to erase it.
“Is that so… Hey, can I punch you? Full force.” “If you could maybe spare me…”
Greg’s height is like a baby compared to Arnie’s massive frame, but with a dwarf’s strength, he could probably knock Arnie out in one hit.
Arnie sensed the serious intent behind Greg’s friendly smile and slowly backed away.
“Hmm, well, if that’s enough for you, I guess you can leave it as is.” “Yeah, well, yeah, I guess so… But it’s definitely awkward.”
But Arnie, as an ogre, has his own sense of aesthetics and cares about what others think. Frankly, a broken horn that’s been left to grow back looks terrible. And walking around with that thing exposed feels like he’s making Sylvia look bad too.
“Ugh… what should I do…” “I bet no one except ogres even notices.” “Basson, there are surprisingly a lot of ogres here…”
Caught between culture and love, between affection and appearances.
He could ask Sylvia for advice, but if he did, she’d probably give him that sad look and say, “You can just shave it off.”
As Arnie stroked the stump of his broken horn, which looked like a fallen radish with a tail, the front entrance of the barracks became a little noisy.
“Looks like someone’s back.” “Yeah, seems like it.”
The commotion had been steadily increasing over the past few days.
Due to some business for the centurion in charge of the unit, they’d all been granted an unexpected three-month leave. With the end of that leave approaching in a few days, more and more people were returning.
Even though it was just a military unit he had to deal with for work, most of them were young, single soldiers, so their sense of camaraderie was strong.
Some were bringing back mountains of souvenirs, and the return from their first leave since being assigned was turning into a little event.
But something about the commotion seemed… off.
“Hey, Boyd, Rackman! Come over here for a sec! And give me a cheek pinch! Or I’ll lose my head if you do it with real force, so be gentle!”
“What are you saying, Private Jean-Jacques?” “A cheek pinch is okay?” “No, not that I’m against hitting you or anything, but… Ah, come on over here!”
The two exchanged glances and followed Jean-Jacques toward the entrance, where they found a giant bull.
No, an ogre subspecies who looked like a bull—Kelly Isaac, the decurion.
And next to him—or rather, clinging to his lower half—stood a woman with a straight back and a dignified air.
”…A woman? Doesn’t look like a civilian.” “That’s military-issue fabric. Same as what the Anzeros unit has.” “W-wait, is she close to Isaac Decurion?”
“Hey, isn’t it just that Isaac the Deca’s too damn big?” “That guy blocks the entrance by himself.” “No, no, no, I saw her walking towards him from across the way! That woman was riding on Isaac the Deca’s shoulders!” “Whoa.” “That’s gotta be number one on the ogre’s envy scale.” ”…………”
Arnie averts his gaze slightly, as Sylvia has requested he do so quite often. Janjacque and Greg, quick to notice, send him a disapproving look. But anyway. “Sounds like she’s doing introductions or something, in the entrance hall, for everyone.” “O-oh, hey, we’re gonna go listen too!” “Wait a minute!! Damn it, don’t leave behind someone with short legs!”
The three of them run over in a clumsy hurry.
“Nice to meet you all.” Just as the woman in the cloak struck a Celesta military salute, the three arrived within earshot. Seeing everyone around them returning the greeting with slightly sheepish smiles, the three hurriedly clapped their left fists to their chests. “H-hey, what’s going on?”
Janjacque asked another nearby soldier, but before he could answer, she repeated the words with a faint smile. “And to those who will join us later, nice to meet you as well. I am Linne Mikagami, a regular soldier transferred today from the Third Infantry Regiment of the Celesta Western Legion. My specialty remains infantry, and I will be taking on guard duty.”
“Ah… well, Mikagami is also known as an Ace Knight. And she’s a wolfkin, my… uh… hometown buddy, or rather, the grandson of an old friend.” Kelly desperately tried to explain without causing offense.
Linne took off her hair ornament with a cool expression and revealed her ears, which had been tucked away. “I joined because I admire Isaac the Deca. From now on, please treat me well.” “H-hey, L… Mikagami.” “Please, call me Linne. …That should cover everything, right, Kelly?”
“Well, uh…”
Her gaze and gestures clearly showed complete trust in Kelly, while Kelly looked utterly bewildered and fidgety. The roughly forty soldiers gathered in the entrance hall understood almost simultaneously. “Yeah, yeah. Nice to meet you, Mikagami.”
Then, Bit Williams (a 28-year-old human who burns with jealousy) stepped forward, grinning as a representative of the other Decas. “And Isaac. It’s terrible after such a long journey, but we’re really eager to train hard.” “A-ah… well, Williams,” “Of course you’ll lead the way, Isaac. As a soldier of Celesta.” “Calm down. Wait a second. Let’s be rational as soldiers of Celesta.” “Yeah, yeah. No one’s lost their reason yet.”
”….”
The bull ogre crept down, its massive bulk towering nearly twice as high.
“Ugh…”
“Yeah, yeah, so eager for training, huh? Good attitude, just like the future centurion.”
“Y-YES! Deputy Centurion Assistant-in-Training!”
“You’re shining bright!”
The soldiers chimed in as they hurried toward the armory.
A few returned moments later, nostalgically winding up their crossbows.
“So—”
Bit (a human known for his forced smiles, 28 years old) declared to Kelly with a beaming grin.
“Which is better: running away with an arrow-deflecting shield or running away empty-handed?”
“What kind of choice is that?!”
“You’d better decide quick— I was just doing archery training, so I’ve already got my weapon.”
“Ugh… ugh… waaaaah!!”
Kelly fled the armory at full speed.
“Alright, everyone chase after him! If he grabs an arrow-deflecting shield, take the shot!”
“YEEEEAAAH!!”
The Crossbow Corps gave chase with great enthusiasm.
“W-Wait a minute, what are you doing to Kelly?”
“Just let me be.”
Hank Bronson, the sole remaining soldier of the Anzeros Guard (Infantry Escort Unit), grabbed her shoulders firmly.
“This is a ritual.”
“A ritual…?”
“Yeah. …See, neither the Centurion nor the Anzeros Decanus are here right now.”
“What does that have to do with anything?!”
As they babbled on, the starting signal for the large-scale archery practice—targeting Kelly—was given.
“Whoaah!! You guys are seriously aiming at me?!”
“Sorry, Isaac Decanus! It pains our hearts, but this is training! Die.”
“We’re not doing this by choice! Die.”
“Even if you go back to your home country and pick up a pretty girlfriend, don’t think you can just bring her here and brag about it for free, you bastard! Sorry.”
“Don’t curse me with grammar that’s hard to reply to!!”
The “arrow-deflecting shield” in question was, for some reason, an ultra-heavy shield lying in the armory—one even ogres would struggle to wield. It could deflect crossbows at close range, but Kelly’s massive frame still couldn’t hide her entirely.
“Ouch! I got grazed! I got grazed, you bastards!!”
Even so, Kelly somehow managed to escape.
”…What kind of unit is this?”
“Welcome to the best of the best buddy units in the Northern Legion.” It sounds like a joke, but it’s probably true.
Night.
The daytime commotion had died down, and everyone was eating dinner in the mess hall while Linne and Kelly were already deep into their couple interrogation—how they met, what they liked about each other, all that stuff.
“Consider it a blessing, at least.”
”…When I started dating Sylvia, it was nice having a Centurion and Anzeros as Ten-Commanders…”
“Haha, well, you gotta be pretty sturdy to get away with what Isaac does.”
Watching Kelly and Linne, who were slightly annoyed but also clearly happy, from a distance, Arnie secretly broke out in a cold sweat while simultaneously feeling relieved.
Yeah. Everyone’s scary.
“But…”
This meant Kelly had a girlfriend now.
Which meant he wasn’t going to get brushed off when asking for relationship advice anymore.
And Kelly was an ogre, even if he was a subspecies. They shared a common understanding about horn treatment.
“Alright.”
Arnie finished his chunk of spiced meat (a super-masculine dish for ogres with huge appetites) and followed Kelly, who had already gotten up.
“Horns?”
“Just shave them off.”
As expected, Kelly and Linne tilted their heads in confusion.
“Well, but… I don’t want to sever the memories of the two of you,” Arnie said.
“You’re such a romantic, Boyd.”
Kelly laughed heartily—HAAHAHA—while Linne smiled and nodded.
Kelly was rough around the edges but caring, while Linne was quiet and reliable. When they were together like this, they looked like a pretty good couple.
“It doesn’t have to be romance or anything. But… well, you and Sylvia are different races… I don’t want to lose even a little bit of something that binds us.”
“I see… But you two are so lovey-dovey, you should have more confidence.”
“Physical things are nice, but if you only focus on those, the woman will get insecure. She’ll wonder if she’s not trusted enough for her memories to be cherished, or if your love isn’t reliable.”
“N-no way…”
“So, why not make it a step toward something new?”
”…New?”
“Yes. You can turn the elegant shaving of their precious horns into a new memory for the two of you.”
”…S-so, like… this?” Crrr, crrr, crrr. Using Arnie’s small (though still looking like an axe to humans) knife and file, Sylvia carefully shaped the horns. “Ah, don’t round them off too much—it’ll look like you’re shaving a kid’s horns.” “Okay… Hey, why did I suddenly feel like letting you shave them?” “W-well…”
“Ogre horns are important. We entrust our pride to their shape. That’s why we don’t let others touch them.” “Leaving that to someone else… well, in my colony at least, it’s also a pretty serious form of courtship.” ”…Hey, Kelly. Could I… maybe get to shave yours too?” “Huh? …Ah, yeah. …Jeez, you’re starting to act all spoiled.”
“My pride is that Sylvia likes me. …If horns are the shape of pride, then the horn she shaved with her own hands is the proudest horn I have right now.” ”…Seriously.” “Too cheesy, you think? Isaac the Decurion taught me that line.” “No… I’m happy.”
“Then I’ll start with your right horn—”
“Kate!?”
“O-Oh, then I’ll take the left one…”
“How about instead of a dick, we two big sisters get to shave Kelly’s horn-dick together?♪”
”…H-Horn-dick… gulp”
“Hey, wait—”
“Haha, Isaac. What a coincidence.”
“W-Williams!?”
“And who’s this Mikagami regular lookin’ like he’s about to say something inappropriate over there?”
“No, calm down. Let’s talk. First of all, this kid’s not good with standard speech—”
“Yeah, yeah. …Should we ask him in the barracks where that dick dialect is from? Maybe while we’re working out.”
“Wait! Listen to me!”
This is heavily intertwined with Isaac’s arc in Extra Edition 2. I’ll post that soon too.