Four of the ogres were relatively robust, all weaned infants.
Ogres mature early; a one-year-old cub is as tall and heavy as an adult human.
Their childish faces already showed signs of cruelty, as they engaged in a brawl without restraint.
There were two even younger cubs, drenched in dampness and reeking of urine.
Like Allen, they were all young ogres less than a month old and still nursing.
Allen propped himself up and sat up, his back against the rough stone wall, feeling uncomfortable.
The filthy cave, mingled with the stench of feces and rotting food, made him want to vomit.
Even worse was his rumbling stomach.
His hunger was so intense that even the sight of rotting flesh made him gulp.
At that moment, a terrifying scene unfolded.
The little ogre across the way.
Perhaps it was simply too hungry to handle...
Screw your ogre bloodline!
Kelly was right!
Who would want such trashy bloodline?!
It's better to exterminate it as soon as possible!
The thought of living in this stinking hellhole, growing up with a bunch of crazy little guys, and maybe even becoming like them...
Alan had a suicidal urge.
At that moment, a rumbling sound came from outside the cave. There seemed to be heavy footsteps.
Gradually.
A burly figure emerged.
It was a naked female ogre, standing at least three meters tall.
In her left hand, she held a man dressed as a hunter.
The man's head had been smashed in with a club.
The head drooped, blood trickling down.
"Roar! My dear children, Mommy's back!"
The female ogre let out a savage laugh.
"My dear children! Come and enjoy the prey!"
The female ogre expertly stripped the corpse of its clothes.
She tossed the naked corpse into the cave. Four weaned ogres rushed forward with cheers.
The mother ogre entered the cave, patting her breast and calling her still-weaned cubs to come and feed.
The mother had only two breasts, yet three cubs needed nursing.
The ogre race's brutal struggle for survival was fully demonstrated even in the cub stage.
Driven by hunger, Allen suppressed his nausea and crawled towards his mother.
But another cub suddenly kicked him hard.
Pah!
Alan tumbled uncontrollably and slammed into the rock wall.
Before he could even get up, a massive shadow suddenly descended.
Puff!
The careless female ogre, not noticing Allen, sat down hard on him.
Intense pain, followed by suffocation.
It engulfed Allen's body.
The mother ogre's nearly half-ton weight weighed down, a weight too heavy for a cub like him, still nursing, to resist.
Before he lost consciousness, he vaguely heard the two lucky cubs slurping their milk...
That was it.
In just ten minutes, Allen experienced the entire life cycle of an ogre, from birth to death.
Killed by a careless mother's sitting position.
Is there a more tragic way to die than this?
Alan ended his meditation with mixed feelings.
He truly disliked the habits of ogres.
But there was nothing he could do.
Currently, he could only cultivate this bloodline.
He was deeply dissatisfied with his death at birth.
Although mentally exhausted, he entered a state of meditation once again.
The entry-level atavistic meditation method did not allow for a reload.
Alan could only randomly integrate a new ancestral memory.
This time, he was born in the forest.
The sanitary conditions were better than in the caves.
Ancestor spirits' memories are fragmented.
Only the more significant fragments of their lives are retained.
Most of the mundane daily routines are forgotten.
So, in real life, Allen meditated for an hour, and he'd already lived in the jungle as an ogre for two months.
To be exact, he only lasted two months.
He had just been weaned.
The first time he went out with his mother to learn hunting techniques, he was tragically killed by a pack of wolves.
Through two meditation sessions,
He only learned some knowledge about postpartum care and breastfeeding for female ogres.
There were also a few crude, Giant-speaking curse words.
The gains were minimal.
Alan was filled with anger.
He wanted to try again.
Unfortunately, meditation consumed too much mental energy.
The experience of death, in particular, was particularly traumatic and could even leave a psychological scar.
This was his first attempt at ancestral meditation.
He had been able to meditate twice in a row, experiencing the horror of death twice, without collapsing, all thanks to his 18 points of mental attribute.
Now, his mental energy was on the verge of exhaustion.
His headache was splitting, and he couldn't concentrate on meditation.
The principal had repeatedly warned him against it.
Ancestral meditation was extremely dangerous! If one is not careful, one could become lost in hallucinations, unable to distinguish between reality and ancestral memories, becoming possessed and suffering a mental breakdown.
‐‐ Especially when mentally exhausted, the risk is even greater.
‐‐ Despite his reluctance, Allen wisely concluded his training.
‐‐ Haste makes waste.
‐‐ Get some good sleep and recuperate.
‐‐ I'll continue my meditation tomorrow.
‐‐…
‐‐ One month later.
‐‐ It was a summer evening.
‐‐ The chirping of cicadas, accompanied by the drowsy heat, drifted through the open window into a bedroom on the second floor.
A sturdy young man with thick eyebrows and broad eyes, shirtless and wearing only shorts, sat on a straw mat with his back to the window, his eyes closed in meditation.
He had been sitting like this for an hour.
The weather was sweltering.
His entire body was drenched in sweat, as if coated in a layer of glistening grease.
In the hazy moonlight, his sweaty, muscular arms and his bare, muscular back shone with a bronze sheen, like a sculpture embodying strength and beauty.
"Huh..."
Alan opened his eyes.
He let out a long sigh.
The corners of his lips curled up slightly.
After a full month, spending at least an hour every day in deep meditation, he finally achieved some small results.
"It wasn't easy..." Allen sighed with deep emotion.
Compared to himself, living in a peaceful town, the ogre ancestors in his bloodline lived in a far more brutal environment.
Ogres have a weak sense of family.
A male's mind only has three things in mind: eating, fighting, and having sex. And the targets of sex aren't limited to female ogres.
Any female creature that has taken on a human form, including his own immediate family members, and even elves, humans, and orcs of varying sizes, can be aroused by that impulse! Even more ridiculous is that male ogres are scumbags who refuse to admit their mistakes even after pulling up their pants.
They only care about breeding, not raising their offspring.
The responsibility of caring for their offspring falls entirely on the mother.
For this reason, smaller ogre tribes are often organized as matriarchal clans.
Larger tribes, formed from the union of multiple clans, are often led by stronger male ogres.