An ogre’s horns are, depending on the tribe, an anatomical feature closely tied to their very identity. After all, they are a species so specialized for combat that they earn the title of “combat race.” While their massive frames and developed canines certainly contribute to what makes them ogres, no one would dispute that the horns—seeming to govern their fighting spirit and offensive power—are the true symbol of the species. Therefore, ogres cherish their horns deeply. Because horns are growing organs, they require constant maintenance. This involves shaping them, regulating their length, or, in some tribes, engraving symbolic patterns. These modifications are an ongoing process. However, despite being comrades to one another, ogres rarely allow others to perform these tasks. Doing it oneself is a matter of pride for the race. In many cases, other races don’t even register the effort involved, but there are actually trends and fads in horn styling. Various booms have come and gone: notching the tips into bifurcations, carving marks at equal intervals, or sharpening them to a point so acute they’d pierce through anything with ease. “Well, when I was young, I thought that looked pretty cool,” is a common excuse heard from middle-aged ogres. From a structural standpoint, none of those modifications are advantageous. But having weathered countless battles yet kept such ostentatious horns intact struck the hot-blooded youth as impossibly cool. Usually, though, the attempt ended with the horn snapping off halfway through, leading to deep regret.
But that’s a digression. Arnie Boyd, an ensign (a male ogre who just turned nineteen and adheres strictly to traditional values of romantic purity), is a man with no connection to such risky horn modifications. After all, he is a Dual-Corn ogre—a two-horned type—but he lacks one. Due to various circumstances, it was pulled out by the root, and it would never grow back again. At that point, by ogre standards, he was already quite far from cool. Even so, he had taken great care of the remaining horn, until a few months ago when that snapped off too. Sure, it had been exchanged for saving a life and getting a girlfriend, which made him accept the loss. But lately, as the new growth came in quite long, he had been mulling over what to do with it.
“Hey Boyd, what are you staring at in that mirror?”
“Ah, Mr. Luckman.”
Arnie was gazing at his hand mirror, lost in thought, when his comrade Greg Luckman (a dwarf) spoke up.
An ensign is, put simply, an apprentice soldier—the lowest rank. Greg and Arnie were of the same age and rank, so there would be no anger for not using honorifics. However, given his dwarven features and bear-like beard, Greg found it difficult to drop the formal address toward someone as junior as Arnie.
“Men staring into hand mirrors making a hundred faces is a bit creepy.”
“Oh… haha… I mean, it’s about my horn.”
“Oh, the horn?”
The Celesta Northern Legion Crossbow Corps, where Arnie served, was unusual for a support unit in having nearly twenty percent ogres.
Naturally, many held strong obsessions regarding their horns, and some pointed out just how unique—or pitiful—Arnie’s situation was.
Greg recalled this and made a subtle face. He wasn’t good at comforting people.
Being met with that subtle expression panicked Arnie.
It wasn’t that he was worried about the fact it had broken.
“I-It’s just… I mean, would it be okay to start filing it into a cone shape?”
“Ah, right. It was like this when it broke.”
Greg made a gap of about five centimeters with his fingers. Arnie felt there had been a bit more in his memory, but well, details aside. It wasn’t as if he could expect others to remember perfectly.
“Yes, somewhere around there. But since it’s grown back quite a lot, I was wondering if the time has come.”
“In that case, would you like me to lend you a sharp knife?”
“N-No, I have maintenance tools.”
The problem was whether he really should do it.
Aesthetically, there was no reason not to. The issue lay elsewhere.
Arnie’s girlfriend, Sylvia MacLean (a human female who would soon turn twenty and adheres strictly to traditional values of romantic purity), had a history of being saved from what looked like certain death in a runaway carriage by Arnie’s self-sacrificial rescue attempt. Currently, she wore the piece of horn that snapped off during that incident, fashioned into a necklace and kept it close. He had been thrilled when she was happy receiving it, but ever since, he had a problem: she used the crack in the horn as an excuse to thank him for their meeting, thank fate, and tease him with stuff like “Don’t worry about one missing horn; compared to Sylvia’s beautiful skin, it’s cheap.” “Ew Arnie-kun, are you still making noise?” It had become a vehicle for her annoying bragging. Now the broken spot was a symbol of their bond. He struggled with the question of whether he had the right to erase it. “I see. By the way, may I punch you? With full force.” “If possible, I’d appreciate if you didn’t…”
Gregg was a mite compared to Arnie’s massive frame, but if it came down to it, a Dwarf’s power was more than enough to drop Arnie with a single hit.
Sensing the genuine murderous intent behind Gregg’s seemingly benign smile, Arnie backed away incrementally.
“Huh. Well, all things being equal, I figure you can keep looking like that for as long as you want.”
“Eh… yeah, that’s true. It’s just… it really does look ugly.”
But Arnie had an ogre’s sense of aesthetics and cared about how others perceived him.
To be blunt, a broken horn left sticking out was not cool.
Walking with Sylvia while displaying such a flaw felt like he was bringing shame on her, too, which made him feel guilty.
“Hmm… what should I do…”
“I don’t think anyone besides the ogres cares.”
“Basson, there are actually quite a few ogres around here, you know…”
Caught between culture and status, love and appearances.
He could ask Sylvia for advice, but doing so would likely give her a melancholy look and force her to say something like, “You can just file it down if you want.”
As Arnie stroked the radish-like stump of his severed tail-horn, lost in contemplation, the main entrance of the barracks grew lively.
“Looks like someone’s back.”
“Yeah, seems so.”
In the past few days, the noise level had skyrocketed.
Thanks to a centurion’s errand, they’d been granted three months of unannounced leave. With the end of that period approaching in just a few days, more and more soldiers were returning to duty.
Even though they served under military units for work, most of them were young, single men, fostering a strong sense of camaraderie.
A few even hauled in mountain-sized amounts of souvenirs, turning their return from their first formation leave into a bit of an event.
However, something about the current commotion felt slightly off.
“Hey, hey, Boyd, Luckman! Come over here a sec! And smack my cheek! No, if you hit me with any real force, I’ll lose my head, so go easy!”
“What are you talking about, Sergeant-Major Jean-Jacque?”
“Is a light pinch enough?”
“It’s not like it has to be a serious slap or anything… just… oh god, come over here already!”
The two of them exchanged glances and followed Jean-Jacque back to the entrance. There stood a massive bull.
Or rather, an ogre sub-species male who looked like a bull: Tenth Sergeant Kelly Isaac.
Standing beside him—or rather, leaning against his lower half—was a woman with a straight spine and a dignified aura.
“Is that… a woman? She doesn’t look like a civilian from the looks of her.”
“That cloak is military issue. Same fabric as what Anzeros’ squad has.”
“Ugh, they’re kind of close, aren’t they? Like, spatially?”
“Nah, it’s just that Tenth Sergeant Isaac is too damn big, right?”
“She’s blocking the whole entrance by herself.”
“No no no, I was walking in from the other side, and that woman was riding on Tenth Sergeant Isaac’s shoulder when she arrived!”
“Whoa.”
“This is definitely number one on the list of situations we envy ogres for.”
”…”
Arnie glanced away slightly, since he had done quite a few things himself at Sylvia’s request.
Jean-Jacque and Gregg, having noticed this keenly, sent Arnie some unkind looks.
Setting that aside.
“It looks like they’re introducing herself. Right there in the entrance hall, to everyone.”
“W-Wait, we’re coming with you to listen!” “Hang on a sec!! Damn it, you can’t just leave short legs behind like that!” The three of them rushed over with heavy, clattering footsteps.
“Thank you for your cooperation.”
Just as the woman in the mantle executed the formal Celesta salute, the trio arrived within earshot.
Seeing the surrounding soldiers return the greeting with lazy but polite smiles, the three hurriedly slapped their fists to their left chests.
“W-Wha—what’s going on?”
When Jankjack asked a nearby soldier, the man opened his mouth, but before he could speak, she offered a faint smile and repeated her words.
“I also look forward to working with you in the future. I have been transferred here today from the Third Infantry Company of the Celesta Western Legion. My name is Lieutenant Rinne Mikagami. My specialty remains infantry, and I will be taking on the role of escort guard.”
“Ahh… well, Lieutenant Mikagami technically holds the title of Ace Knight as well. Also, she’s a wolf beastman, and the granddaughter of an old friend of mine from back home”
Kelly desperately tried to explain without causing any offense.
Rinne, with her cool expression, removed her hair ornament and brushed aside the fur covering her ears to reveal them.
“I enlisted because I was inspired by Captain Isaac. Please treat me well from now on.”
“W-Wha— R… Mikagami”
“It’s fine to call me Rinne without any fuss. …I explained our relationship just now, didn’t I, Kelly-san?”
“No, that’s just… uh…”
Her gaze and demeanor made it clear she completely trusted Kelly, while Kelly looked utterly confused, moving awkwardly around.
The roughly forty soldiers gathered in the entrance hall seemed to understand the situation almost unanimously at once.
“Yeah, yeah. Nice to meet you, Lieutenant Mikagami.”
Leading the charge was Bit Williams (Human, 28 years old, burning with jealousy), who was also a Captain like Kelly. He stepped forward with a mischievous grin.
“And Isaac. I’m sorry to burden you right after such a long journey, but morale is high and we’re really eager to train.”
“A-Ah… look, Williams”
“Of course, you’ll take the lead, right, Isaac? As a soldier of Celesta.”
“Calm down. Just wait a minute. Let’s try to act rationally here, as soldiers of Celesta.”
“Yeah, yeah. No one has lost their reason yet.”
“…………”
Despite being nearly twice his height, the bull ogre edged back inch by inch.
“Grrr…”
“Good, good. I’m glad you’re so enthusiastic about training. That’s a fine attitude, befitting your future role as a Centurion.”
“Oi-oh! Standing in for the acting Centurion advisor!”
“She’s shining!”
Cutting in with remarks, the soldiers hurried off toward the armory.
A few of them returned quickly, cheerfully winding up the crossbow strings with a ratcheting sound.
“So then”
Bit (Human, 28 years old, renowned for his fake smiles) declared to Kelly with a beaming smile.
“Which do you prefer: fleeing with a shield to block arrows, or fleeing empty-handed?”
“What kind of choice is that!!”
“You’d better hurry— I was at target practice until just now, so I already have my weapon ready.”
“Grrr… ugghh… ughhhh!!”
Kelly fled toward the armory at full speed.
“All right, everyone, chase ‘em down! Fire when he grabs his shield! Yeaaah!”
The Crossbow Corps gave chase, thrilled at the prospect.
“Hold on—wait, Kelly, what are you—”
“It’s fine, it’s fine.”
Hank Bronson, a master sergeant in Anzeros’s unit (the escort infantry), was the only one left behind. He grabbed her shoulder firmly, stopping her dead in her tracks.
“This is a rite of passage,” he said.
“A rite…?”
“Yeah. Besides… look, neither the centurion nor the Anzeros ten-man captain is here right now.”
“What does that have to do with anything!?”
Before they could make sense of his nonsensical conversation, the shooting practice began, treating Kelly as a target for this massive archery event.
“Ooooooh!! You guys are actually aiming to hit me, aren’t you?!”
“I’m sorry, Captain Isaac! My heart aches, but this is just training! Die!”
“We don’t enjoy this any more than you do! Get lost!”
“If I go back to my country and hook up with a beautiful girl, I might skip the bragging part, but you brought her here specifically to show off, so don’t think you’ll get away with that! Sorry about that!”
“Cursing me while using grammar that makes it impossible to answer back!!”
So-called arrow-shields were, for some reason, extra-heavy shields lying around the armory that couldn’t easily be maneuvered by anything other than an ogre. While they could deflect crossbow bolts at close range, Kelly’s huge frame meant he couldn’t cover his entire body with one.
“It hurts! I missed! You missed, you bastards!!”
Kelly managed to escape just barely in the end.
”…What kind of unit is this?”
“Welcome to what might be the best friend group in the Northern Legion.”
It sounded like a joke, but it was probably the truth.
Night.
The daytime commotion had settled down a bit, and everyone gathered in the mess hall for dinner. They started teasing Rynne and Kelly about how they first met and what they liked about each other—a classic couple interrogation.
“Technically, that’s a blessing for us comrades.”
”…I’m glad the centurion and the Anzeros ten-man captain were around when I started dating Sylvia…”
“Hahaha, well, unless you’re tough as Isaac, you wouldn’t go that far.”
Standing a little apart, watching Kelly and Rynne, who looked subtly angry yet subtly happy, Arnie wiped cold sweat from his brow and patted his chest in relief.
Yeah. Everyone was terrifying.
“But…”
With this, Kelly was now in a relationship too.
Which meant he had lost the standing to be brushed off even when seeking advice on love matters.
And Kelly was an ogre, sub-species or not. Regarding horns, there was a mutual understanding.
“Alright.”
Arnie finished munching through his share of meat—a “cowboy steak” (super-masculine dish for big-eating ogres)—and got up to follow Kelly, who had left the table earlier.
“Horns?”
“Why not just shave them off?”
As expected, both Kelly and Rynne tilted their heads in confusion upon hearing this.
“No, but… I mean, I don’t want to cut away the memories of the two of you.”
“You’re such a romantic, Boyd.”
Kelly bursts into a hearty, boisterous laugh, while Linnen smiles and gives a knowing nod. The rough around the edges yet doting Kelly, paired with the quiet and composed Linnen. It is quite striking how, when you simply place them side by side in silence, they look like rather the best of couples. “It’s not about romance or anything, mind you. But… well, Sylvia-san and I are from different races, so… I just don’t want to lose whatever little bond we have.” “I see. …But seeing how lovey-dovee you two act, I think you could afford a bit more confidence.” “Having something tangible is lovely, yes, but if you cherish only the keepsake, it can make your partner feel insecure. They start to wonder: ‘Do you trust this memory, but not my love?’” “H-Huh… I see…” “That’s why, sometimes, taking the bold step forward is the right thing to do.” “…The next step?” “Yes. Make shaving your precious horns into a stylish gesture part of your new shared memories. It’s a fresh start for the two of you, isn’t it?”
“I-I s-suppose… that would work.” Scrape, scrape, scrape. Using a small knife and a file—small by ogre standards, though they’d pass as hatchets in human hands—Sylvia meticulously trims the horn. “A-And don’t round off the tip too much, okay? That’s how you trim a kid’s horn.” “Y-Yes, ma’am… Hey, I’ve been wondering why she allowed me to be the one doing this?” “I-I mean…”
“An ogre’s horns are sacred. They entrust their pride to that shape. So they never let anyone else touch them.” “To entrust that to another is… well, in my colony anyway, it’s quite a serious form of courtship.” “…Hey, Kelly. Can I… can I shave yours too?” “H-Huh? …Ah, yeah. Sure… Damn, you really got soft around her, didn’t you?”
“My pride is that Sylvia-san came to like me. …If the horns are the shape of our pride, then a horn shaved by Sylvia’s own hands would be the most honorable horn in my eyes right now.” “…Oh, stop it.” “W-What? Too cheesy? It was a killer line Isaac, my Tenth Leader, taught me.” “No no. …It makes me happy.”
“Then I’ll take the right one—”
“Kate!?”
“I-I mean, how about I do the left one then…”
“You could just use your dick in place of Kelly-bro’s horn-dick, we’re a family now~♪”
“…T-The horn-dick… gulp.”
“Oi, hold on!”
“Hahaha, Isaac. Funny coincidence, isn’t it?”
“W-Williams!?”
“And who is that suspicious figure mimicking Mika Kami Shouhei’s rhetoric over there?”
“Calm down, let’s talk this out. First off, this girl’s command of the standard tongue is a bit… lacking.”
“Mmhmm… Let’s go ask in the barracks where ‘dick’ is from some local dialect. Might as well do some exercise while we’re at it.”
“Wait! Listen to me!”
This ties in quite a bit with Isaac’s arc in the second side story.
I’ll be posting that one soon too.