While Dolare and Yablukwon were fighting each other in a display of strength, the Chief of this Stone Ogre tribe and Horan were entangled in a battle of the mind. The result of the clash between these peak powers—Pseudo-Saints—decided whether or not they would fight each other.
And shockingly, the Stone Ogre Chief lost, understanding that its opponent wasn't someone it could afford to offend. Even if they warred, the losses would be crippling. A pyrrhic victory wasn't something any leader sought in circumstances where a war wasn't even necessary.
That was why the Stone Ogre Tribe let go of the caravan.
Yablukwon's actions were only an effort to buy time for the Chief to test the peak power of the caravan.
That was why, once he won the mental battle, Horan commanded Doran to return.
Now that he understood the intricacies of the battle involved, Doran's expression of servitude deepened as he returned to his station within the nearby carriage.
Horan took in a deep breath, taking out a beverage from a nearby container as he began to drink it casually.
The caravan soon left the Rock Ogre Tribe as the Tribe Chief exited its cave, frowning as it stared at the back of the leaving caravan.
Clok! Clak! Clok!
Suddenly, the sounds of a horse galloping resounded as the Stone Ogre Chief turned around, noticing a lone horse marching alone. And seated on its back were two individuals, a man and a woman.
Unlike those from the caravan that were nervous while passing through this region, the two individuals seemed to be chatting away happily.
Upon seeing that the enemies only consisted of two people, the Rock Ogre Chief was just about to signal everyone to attack when the man seated on the horse made eye contact.
His eyes then trailed to his right, motioning for the Tribe Chief to stare in that direction.
For some reason, the Stone Ogre Chief felt compelled to do so as it heard exclaims from the other Stone Ogres.
"Chief! Your hand!"
The Stone Ogre Chief stared at its severed arm that was being carried by the horse. In shock, all the Stone Ogres, a race that struck fear in the hearts of other races now stood in silence as the horse stopped before them.
It then dropped the severed hand into the grasp of the owner before beginning to run once again.
As for the man seated on its back, he slowly raised the index finger of his right hand, bringing it over his lips as for some reason, a compelling voice resounded in the mind of the Rock Ogre Chief.
"Treat this as a warning."
The Stone Ogre Chief shuddered in response, watching the horse continue to gallop away as it hurriedly raised its hand, motioning for the Rock Ogres to stop, refraining from launching a signal to attack.
Only after the horse vanished from view did the Stone Ogre Chief relax visibly, slumping to the ground as it surprisingly began to sweat.
"Chief…what…was up with that human?" A nearby Rock Ogre asked hesitantly, aware that something was up for their terrifying Chief to be in such a frightened state.
"That's no human…" The Rock Ogre Chief stated solemnly, getting up as it commanded everyone, "Don't utter a single word of their existence to anyone. Don't even discuss it amongst yourselves."
"That was a divine being…"
"Uh…dad…" Stencil looked behind, noticing the state of the Rock Ogre Tribe as she muttered, "Don't you think you…frightened them way too much?"
"Did I really?" Compass Carburettor tilted his head in response, "I just used the shortest approach to remain discrete and avoid trouble you know. If I tried other methods, we would have had to fight. And that's such a pain you know."
"The Rock Ogres are tricky to deal with, you know." He spoke.
"I know…" Stencil pouted, "Besides, it was I that told you everything regarding them. Don't lecture me, I'm not that young anymore."
"How much was our age difference when you were born?" Compass Carburettor smiled.
"27…" Stencil said, refusing immediately upon seeing her father's smile, "Don't say that things haven't changed just because our age difference remains the same. Besides,"
She retorted, "You lost sixteen years of your life to Hazen. So that means the difference will fall to only 11…"
"You were also not aging at that time, right?" Compass Carburettor smiled, shutting her up.
"Annoying…" Stencil rolled her eyes before being distracted as she looked around, exclaiming in surprise, "Dad, look at that tree. It's massive! Isn't it around eighty metres tall? Is it something like a World Tree sapling?"
"Hmm, I don't think so." Compass Carburettor replied, "Even a sapling of the World Tree is taller than that. It would reach this height within a mere day. As the tree before us isn't growing, it's not a World Tree sapling."
Stencil stared as the tree vanished from view, thinking for a couple of minutes before saying, "Um…dad?"
"Yeah?"
"If we suppose…you know…chance upon a World Tree sapling, can you like…get it for me?" She asked, hesitantly gazing forward in anticipation.
Slowly, Compass Carburettor turned around to look at her, raising an eyebrow, "Didn't you say you didn't wish to be pampered, that you were all grown up now, etc. etc. etc?"
"Adults capture our toys ourselves. That's what being an adult means." Compass Carburettor said solemnly.
"Ugh…" Stencil felt a loss for words before saying in a hurry, "Think of it as a gift, a new world visiting gift, alright?"
"…" Compass Carburettor stared at her, smirking in response, "You're still a child at heart, brat."
"Well duh, I can't age you know." Stencil rolled her eyes before winking cutely, "I'm an evergreen teenager, unlike you, old man."
"Your dad isn't old." Compass Carburettor retorted, continuing to attack, "When I brought a gift for you in the Apocalypse World, you refused it saying that you weren't a child anymore. And now, you're changing your tune."
"Make up your mind, brat." Compass Carburettor scolded, "Your old man has brought a lot of toys with him."
"Don't make them collect dust."
