Abyssal Sovereignty

In a secluded mountain village, several diminutive humanoid creatures with green and blue skin respectfully gathered around a young girl.

"…That’s the situation, Lady Yverantheia."

The elder smurf finished speaking and returned to a deferential stance, though Yverantheia could sense a faint hopefulness in its gaze.

The smurf elder had just explained the circumstances of the mountain range.

Currently, this mountainous region was inhabited by smurfs, goblins, and ogres. Each group had its own strengths. The goblins, with their incredible reproductive ability and resilience, were the most numerous. The smurfs, possessing advanced technology and tool usage, had illuminated the village with sky lanterns, a testament to their ingenuity.

As for the ogres, their advantage was overwhelmingly clear—sheer physical strength. Even a juvenile ogre possessed physical power far surpassing that of a smurf or goblin warrior. The only reason balance had been maintained was due to the ogres' lack of intelligence.

However, recent developments were troubling. According to smurf intelligence, there had been an internal conflict among the ogres. The original ogre king was assassinated, and the new king’s ascension had led to strange occurrences. The previously chaotic and belligerent ogres had suddenly become eerily calm and, as if aware of the smurfs' observations, disappeared shortly thereafter.

"In other words, those ogres are likely consolidating their power, planning to wipe you out and dominate the entire mountain range?"

"Precisely."

The smurfs and goblins had managed to resist the ogres through intelligence and numbers, but now a powerful and somewhat intelligent ogre king had emerged, nullifying their advantages.

"Ogres… they're strong, aren't they?"

"At least for us, they are."

After hearing the smurf's words, Yverantheia pondered for a moment before looking up.

"I'll go."

"…It seems my old ears are failing me. I couldn't quite catch that."

"I said I'll go and beat them up."

As Yverantheia spoke, she clenched her fist.

"This… Forgive my impudence, but the ogres are formidable. Even you might not return unscathed if you go alone!"

"That’s precisely why I must go."

Yverantheia wasn’t seeking status but strength. While subjugating other creatures quickly granted power, true strength wasn't just about quantity; quality was equally important.

To enhance the quality of her strength, the best method was battle—especially tough battles. She had hardly fought when subduing the goblins and smurfs, and now her fists were itching for a challenge!

"Pu, pu!"

"Uh… I’m just going to fight, not planning to run away."

The small tentacle creature at her side made noises as Yverantheia stood up, seemingly afraid she might leave it behind. Yverantheia could only soothe it, knowing she had decided to take it along in the future. Such matters needed to be communicated clearly.

"May fortune favor you in battle."

With these words from the smurfs and goblins, Yverantheia disappeared from the village.

 

---

"Haa… so bored… Hmph!"

An ogre sat in the shadow of a rock, grumbling.

"Pathetic idiot! I thought the new king would be tough, but he's just a coward! Pah!"

As the ogre spoke, it swung its arm, shattering the rock beside it.

"Ah… I crave a good fight… I need battle!"

"Then I'll oblige you."

A voice came from behind the ogre, instantly heightening its battle instincts.

"A challenger!? Come on! Face me…"

Before it could finish, the ogre lost consciousness.

“Hmm… So, this is the extent of a typical ogre’s strength…”

Yverantheia effortlessly hoisted a massive red ogre, several times her size, with her slender left hand. Her face showed no sign of fatigue.

“This one mentioned their king being stronger. Maybe I should focus on him…”

As she pondered, her eyes landed on another ogre, idly grumbling nearby.

“Perfect, a welcoming gift.”

Another ogre soon became part of her collection.

By the time Yverantheia reached the entrance of the ogre village, she had knocked out enough ogres to form a hill team. She stood at the gate, calling out.

“Your delivery has arrived!”

“Huh? What’s going on?”

“What’s happening?”

Her shout drew nearly all the ogres outside.

“What is this?”

“Did the smurfs do this?”

“Don’t ask me!”

The towering ogres, some over three meters tall, peered down at the strange figure before them.

“I’m here to deliver…”

“Huh? Deliver what? Yourself?”

A particularly burly ogre stomped out from the crowd, scowling.

“I’m in a bad mood. You’ll make a perfect punching bag!”

Without waiting for a response, the ogre swung its fist.

“Seems like a premium delivery service.”

“What?”

The ogre couldn’t believe its eyes. The small figure with arms thinner than its fingers had effortlessly caught its punch.

Who was this? It was the second strongest ogre, right below the ogre king. How could this tiny creature withstand its attack?

“You are… ah!!”

It felt like its hand was being crushed under an immense weight. A loud crack echoed as it saw its hand twisted into a grotesque shape.

“Hmph, about this level of strength… You can go sit in the back now.”

With a slight flick, Yverantheia sent the ogre flying, landing it on a small red mound.

‘Hmm? A red mound?’

The ogres had never noticed a red mound outside their village before. Following her gaze, they saw it—the mound was made of their own kind, piled high.

The sight was so surreal they hadn’t noticed it immediately. Only when one of their strongest was effortlessly defeated and thrown onto it did they realize.

“Where is your king?”

Silence fell. None of the ogres dared speak, fearing they’d be next to join the mound.

“Hmm… If you don’t answer, I’ll turn all of you into my goods.”

“The king is in the center of the village!”

“The biggest house!”

“Don’t come any closer!”

Though they didn’t know what ‘goods’ meant, every ogre instinctively knew that staying silent was not an option.

“Thanks for your cooperation. I’ll head over now.”

Yverantheia, grasping a makeshift rope of vines and hemp, dragged the ‘mound’ towards the village center under the ogres’ stunned gazes.