Chapter 11: Matrilineal Clan
Four of the ogres were relatively strong, and they were all young children who had been weaned.
Ogres mature very early, with a one-year-old cub being as tall and as heavy as an adult human.
Signs of cruelty had already appeared on their childish faces, and they were fighting with each other without any restraint.
There were two smaller cubs, all wet and smelling of urine.
Like Alan, they are little ogres who are less than a month old and have not yet been weaned.
Alan supported himself and sat up, his back against the rough stone wall, feeling very uncomfortable.
The filthy cave, filled with the smell of feces and rotten food, made him want to vomit.
What’s even worse is that my stomach is growling.
The hunger was so strong that he couldn't help swallowing his saliva even when he saw rotten meat.
At this moment, a horrifying scene appeared.
The little ogre opposite .
Maybe I can't stand the hunger...
Fuck your ogre bloodline!
Kelly is right!
Who would want this kind of rubbish bloodline?
It would be better to become extinct as soon as possible!
The thought of having to live in this stinking hellhole, growing up with a bunch of crazy little guys, and maybe even degenerating into something like them...
Alan had an urge to die.
At this time, a rumbling sound came from outside the cave.
It seemed to be the sound of heavy footsteps.
Gradually.
A sturdy figure appeared.
It was a naked female ogre, at least three meters tall.
In his left hand he was holding a man dressed as a hunter.
The man's head had been smashed by a club.
His head was drooping and blood was flowing all the way.
“Hoho!! My lovely babies, mommy is back!”
The she-ogre laughed savagely.
"Good kids! Come and enjoy your prey!"
The ogre mother expertly stripped the corpse of its clothes.
Throw the naked dead man into the cave.
The four little ogres, already weaned, jumped forward with cheers.
The mother ogre walked into the cave, patted her chest, and called her baby, who had not yet been weaned, to come and drink milk.
The mother has only two breasts, but has three cubs to feed.
The brutal competition for survival among the ogres is vividly demonstrated even in their cub stage.
Driven by hunger, Alan suppressed his nausea and crawled towards his mother.
However, the other cub suddenly kicked him hard.
Snap!
Alan rolled out involuntarily and hit the rock wall.
Before he could get up, a huge shadow fell down with a loud bang.
puff!
The careless female ogre didn't see Alan and sat down on him firmly.
Intense pain accompanied by suffocation.
Submerged Alan's body.
The mother ogre weighed nearly half a ton, and the pressure on him, a young cub who had not yet been weaned, was simply too much for him to resist.
Before he lost consciousness, he vaguely heard the two lucky cubs slurping their milk...
that's all.
It only took Alan ten minutes.
It is a complete experience of the life journey of an ogre from birth to death.
He was sat on and killed by his careless mother.
Is there any more tragic way to die than this?
Alan ended his meditation with mixed feelings.
He really didn't like the habits of the ogre.
But there is no way.
Currently, I can only cultivate this kind of bloodline.
He died just after being born and he was very dissatisfied.
Although he was mentally exhausted, he entered a meditative state again.
An entry-level atavistic meditation method, without the function of reloading the save file.
Alan can only randomly integrate a new ancestral memory.
This time, he was born in the forest.
The sanitary conditions are better than those in the caves.
The memory of ancestral spirits is not continuous.
Only keep the more important fragments of life.
The monotonous daily chores are mostly forgotten.
So after Alan meditated for one hour in reality, he had already lived in the jungle as an ogre for two months.
To be exact, he only lasted two months.
Just weaned.
The first time he went out with his mother to learn hunting skills, he was tragically killed by a pack of wolves.
Meditate twice.
I only learned some knowledge about postpartum care and breastfeeding of female ogres.
There are also a few crude Giant language swear words.
Little was gained.
Alan was feeling angry.
I want to do it again.
Unfortunately, meditation consumes too much mental energy.
The experience of death, in particular, is extremely distressing and can even leave a psychological trauma.
This was his first attempt at ancestral spiritual practice.
He was able to meditate twice in a row, experiencing the terror of death twice, and not collapse, all thanks to the 18 points of mental attributes.
Now, his mental strength is on the verge of exhaustion.
I have a splitting headache and cannot concentrate on meditation.
The principal has warned us again and again.
Atavism meditation is very dangerous!
If you are not careful, you will get lost in hallucinations, unable to distinguish between reality and the memories of your ancestors, and become obsessed and suffer a mental breakdown.
Especially when you are mentally exhausted, the risk is greater.
Although he was very unwilling, Alan still ended his training rationally.
More haste, less speed.
Get a good night's sleep and get enough rest.
Continue meditating tomorrow.
…
One month later.
Summer evening.
The chirping of cicadas, accompanied by the drowsy hot wind, drifted into a bedroom on the second floor through the open window.
A sturdy young man with thick eyebrows and big eyes, shirtless and wearing only a pair of shorts, sat on a straw mat with his back to the window and closed his eyes in meditation.
He had been sitting like this for an hour.
The weather is hot and humid.
My whole body was soaked with sweat, as if it was covered with a layer of shiny grease.
In the dim moonlight, his sweaty and sturdy arms and his muscular bare back have a bronze luster, like a sculpture that embodies strength and beauty.
"call……"
Alan opened his eyes.
Take a deep breath.
The corners of his lips slightly raised.
I spent at least an hour meditating every day for a whole month, and finally achieved some small results.
"It's not easy..." Alan sighed with deep emotion.
Compared to himself who lives in a quiet town, the living environment of those ogre ancestors in his blood is too cruel.
Ogres have a weak sense of family.
There are only three things on the male's mind.
Eating, fighting and having sex, and the targets of sex are not limited to female ogres.
He can have that kind of impulse towards any female creature that has taken human form, including his own immediate relatives, and even elves, humans, and orcs of varying sizes!
What’s even more speechless is that the male ogres are all scumbags who refuse to admit their mistakes even after they have put on their pants.
Just sow the seeds, don't worry about nurturing.
The responsibility of taking care of the cubs falls entirely on the mother.
Because of this, smaller ogre tribes are often structured in matriarchal clans.
Larger tribes, formed by the union of multiple clans, are often led by stronger male ogres.
