Chapter 89: Turbulent Whirlwind
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 89: Turbulent Whirlwind
“Grooaargh!”
The troll clutched its severed arm and stumbled back. The stump bubbled and boiled, but the arm did not grow back. It seemed even a troll's regeneration couldn't restore a completely severed limb.
‘Was a troll always this easy?’
I recalled the troll I’d fought in the dungeon. A creature I never would have defeated without using the gimmick designed to make it attack the fleeing humans first—and now, I had dealt it a fatal blow with just a single sword.
Of course, there was a price. The sword's edge was chipped in chunks. The blade was twisted, its center of balance thrown off.
In fact, this was lucky. Any ordinary sword would have shattered under the force I used before it could even sever the troll's arm.
Pushing aside this new realization, I drew another sword. It had been quite some time since I'd taken Andrei's advice and started carrying a spare.
“Kroaar!”
Realizing the damage was permanent, the troll charged again in a rage. With each stride, the ground shook as if from an earthquake.
The idea that big things are slow was a misconception. Its movements were large, but its speed was faster than a horse's. It tried to use its momentum to kick me.
Its calloused sole packed more impact than a great hammer. A direct hit from that would not be a clean death.
‘If it were a direct hit, that is.’
To me, who had entered a slowed world, the troll's movements were as sluggish as a snail's.
I took a diagonal step and slipped between its legs. As its foot grazed past me, I swung my sword.
I controlled my strength this time. I couldn't afford to break another one.
“Kraaak!”
Of course, what was "moderate" strength for me was superhuman by the standards of an ordinary adult male.
A gash deep enough to expose bone appeared on the calf of the troll's kicking leg.
Dropping to one knee, it twisted its body and swung its arm.
Whoosh.
The sound of displaced air was chilling.
As if I'd been waiting for it, I spun in the opposite direction and carved another mark into the remaining leg supporting its massive frame.
After repeating this a few times, it could no longer stand and collapsed to its knees.
Finally, the face of the over-three-meter-tall behemoth was low enough to be seen just by looking up. This was the moment I'd been waiting for.
I dodged its horizontal swing and moved in closer.
It hastily tried to pull back its remaining arm to block its face, but I was a step faster.
I poured all my reserved strength into the sword. Just as I heard the sound of metal twisting in the hilt, the swung blade bit into the troll's neck.
A moment later, the sword, having sliced through skin that offered slight resistance and forcibly cleaved through bone as hard as a wall, emerged from the other side of its neck.
I felt the troll's hand, which had been coming for the back of my head, fall away. The headless body of the troll followed.
Thud.
A cloud of dust spread out in concentric circles.
I tossed aside the shattered sword and, with my last one, impaled the troll's head and lifted it high. Its face, twisted in agony, was vivid.
“I, Allen, have slain the troll! Annihilate the remaining monsters!”
“Hoorah—!”
“A Troll Slayer! A true Troll Slayer who took one down alone!”
“The one who fought three times and won three times! The Undefeated Knight! The Giant Slayer!”
Another nickname was added to the list. It was the same one my father had. A strange feeling tickled my chest.
Meanwhile, the morale of the few cavalrymen who had followed me and the soldiers who joined later soared.
The goblins, who had witnessed the troll's death firsthand, outnumbered us several times over, but they didn't dare to fight back and began to flee.
“Kieek!”
Amidst the growing chaos, I carved open the troll's chest. The troll's still-beating heart was soon exposed. It was the size of a human head.
I took a blood-soaked bedsheet from a bag tied to my saddle, wrapped the troll's heart in it, and secured it. Then I readjusted my grip on my sword and charged toward the goblins.
Once broken, the goblins couldn't easily regroup. Instead, they scattered, each trying to save itself from me and my pursuing soldiers.
Their numbers were still great, but it was a problem time would solve. With that judgment, I left the remaining goblins to Muel and Dreng and infiltrated the dungeon alone.
“It doesn't give any experience points.”
It was because my level was too high compared to when I first entered the dungeon. Thanks to that, retrieving the crystal was much easier than last time, though.
Watching the dungeon collapse, I took out the troll's heart I had saved.
I unfolded the blood-soaked bedsheet, placed the troll's heart and the crystal together, and tied it up. Then I took another sword—one with only the hilt remaining—from my backpack and stabbed it into the bundle.
Instantly, a red light shone through the bedsheet. The heart began to shrink, as if the sword were devouring it. The bloody bedsheet and the crystal were no exception.
In a brief moment, the items vanished as if they had never existed.
In their place was a two-handed sword, nearly two meters long.
When I casually gripped it, I felt an immense weight. It was so heavy an ordinary person would struggle just to lift it.
‘So this is Trollsverd.’
This wasn't an item that was supposed to be so easy to make.
The sword hilt that formed its base was in the royal treasury, and one of the other ingredients, a witch's blood, was also a problem.
In the story, the seven witches were the final enemies. Therefore, it was an item you could barely craft only late in the game.
‘I should test it out…’
I needed to see if it had the same abilities as in the game. Fortunately, an opportunity was nearby.
I turned and headed in the direction of Palanti. I had trimmed the side branches; now it was time to cut down the tree.
#
It took only half a day to drive the goblins out of the city.
Of course, there were surely some still hiding throughout the city, so I had ordered Muel and Dreng to conduct a search. In the meantime, I went to face Baron Debussy.
At the far end of a grand hall, he sat on a slightly raised dais. He was in a rather antique wooden chair, impressive for its ornate carvings.
The seven vassals I had met before stood to his left and right in full armor, and next to him sat his only child, his daughter.
She, who hadn't taken her eyes off me since I entered the hall, blushed when our eyes met, then turned her head away with an arrogant snort as if nothing had happened.
‘Sir Powell was an extremely pragmatic knight.’
I had to admire the late Powell Osborne. I prided myself on being second to none when it came to greed, but even if I were offered a barony, I wouldn't want to share a bed with that woman.
In any case, even though she must have known I killed her husband, Powell Osborne, I couldn't sense any resentment from her.
I knew that was typical of noble marriages, but it was still unexpected.
There was one more puzzling thing: Baron Debussy's motive for having his daughter present at such an important meeting.
He tapped his fingers on the armrest of his chair and spoke first.
“What brings a knight of Baron Rasino all the way here?”
At the same time, the seven fully armed vassals surrounded me. Their hands rested on the swords at their waists.
The cold shadows flickering across their armor in the candlelight were menacing.
Their wariness was understandable. After all, wasn't I the notorious enemy they called a devil? Still, it would be a lie to say I didn't feel a little disappointed.
“I expected a word of thanks first…”
“Thanks? Why would I thank the man who killed my son-in-law and my soldiers?”
“Because I saved your life, of course.”
“I didn't need your help. We could have handled mere goblins on our own.”
Baron Debussy lied without a change in his expression.
I let out a small laugh.
“Weren't you about to flee with your vassals?”
“You insolent whelp! How dare you be so rude! Watch your tongue!”
As the baron's face tightened slightly, one of the vassals raised his voice. He was dressed as a knight, but his face was still youthful.
Then again, hadn't most of Baron Debussy's knights died at my hands alongside Powell? Among those surrounding me now, only two were actual knights.
“Very well. Let's get straight to the point.”
I didn't bother arguing right from wrong. There was no need to waste emotion on men who were about to die.
Unaware of this, Baron Debussy and his vassals smirked.
“Speak.”
“Your Lordship illegally occupied our rightful territory, and when that was not acknowledged, you invaded our lands. You also sided with a traitor and interfered in another family's affairs. As a result of your actions, Lord Segerik has died. Now, it is time for you to pay the price.”
“You bastard!!! I warned you to watch your tongue!”
The young knight with the youthful face drew his sword in fury.
Did he think this was a chance to impress the baron? Or perhaps he had a connection to those I killed.
In any case, this was the second time he had challenged me.
“This is no place for a mere knight to step forward. Besides, if you were going to act, you should have done so before you tried to abandon the city and flee. Am I wrong?”
“What! You son of a bitch, you've finally done it!”
The provoked knight, his face flushed red, charged at me.
The faces of Baron Debussy and the surrounding vassals turned deathly pale. It seemed this was an unexpected outburst. Just as they were about to stop him.
I took a step forward, readjusted my grip on the Trollsverd I was holding, and swung.
There was a sound of the very air being crushed, on a completely different level from an ordinary sword.
“Hngh…!”
The reckless young knight tried to block with his sword. It was a miscalculation.
CRACK!
With a sound like an explosion, the Trollsverd shattered the opposing sword and, not satisfied with that, continued onward.
His face, twisted in pain, and his wide-open eyes began to be crushed. It spread to his entire body.
His body, split in two, looked as if it had been forcibly torn apart. Guts and blood poured from the rough cross-section, staining the floor red.
“Huk—!”
“Kyaaak!”
The hall was instantly filled with screams and shock. At the same time, all the vassals drew their swords and pointed them at me.
I calmly shook the blood from my sword. Even though I'd used my full strength, the Trollsverd didn't have a single chip.
It lived up to its in-game description as an unbreakable sword.
Although its dull edge was a bit disappointing, it was still a peerless weapon.
‘I'll need to get used to this…’
The problem was its weight. As I swung, the weight shifted forward, and I almost lost my grip on the sword.
The good thing was that there was plenty of practice material scattered around me.
The vassals who met my gaze flinched and looked away. It seemed the dead one was the only one with any reckless courage.
“Enough—!”
Baron Debussy, finally coming to his senses, raised his voice.
The baron looked disapprovingly at his vassals as they retreated with relieved expressions, then turned his head toward me.
“What is it you want?”
“You will give me Melbourne.”
Melbourne, a famous wine-producing region, was one of Baron Debussy's main sources of income.
This was a fitting price for the justification I had mentioned. If you included the fact that I saved his life, it was actually a concession on my part.
“Hmph…! Do you think I'm going to accept that?”
And yet, Baron Debussy's expression was stern. Humans were always such cunning creatures. And I was human, too.
“I knew you'd say that, so I've prepared another option.”
“A reasonable one, I hope?”
“Yes. It's time for you to pass on your title to your grandson.”
The baron's only daughter and Powell Osborne had a young son. My plan was to use him as a puppet and swallow the entire territory.
The shocked Baron Debussy was speechless. Instead, his vassals went wild.
“You bastard! What nonsense is this!”
“You're not a knight, you're a robber!”
“There's no need to listen further! I'll take that scoundrel's head!”
It was all talk. Hadn't their comrade just shown them what would happen if they stepped forward? It wasn't for nothing that I had provoked him and shown off my strength.
The baron's expression darkened as he, too, seemed to realize it was all just talk.
“Enough—! All of you, shut up! Am I not speaking with our guest!”
The baron, proving he hadn't wasted his years, silenced his vassals and looked back at me. His eyes gleamed, hinting at some scheme.
“Ahem, could we not pay this price in another way?”
I gestured with my eyes for him to continue. The baron frowned for a moment at my arrogant and disrespectful attitude, but then he smiled smoothly and continued.
“I will give you my daughter.”
The baron gestured to his daughter beside him. So this was why he'd brought his daughter to such an important meeting—he intended to pay for everything with her.
The baron's daughter shot me an arrogant look. She seemed to be saying, I don't like it, but if you insist, I suppose I have no choice but to accept.
I stared blankly, dumbfounded, and she, misinterpreting my expression, grinned and looked smug.
I shook my head and faced the baron again.
“Surely you don't think your daughter is a better price than my previous conditions?”
“Not for the new baron, perhaps.”
The baron continued with a sly smile.
“The person I intend to give my daughter to is not the Baron of Rasino, but you.”
For Baron Debussy, it didn't matter who his daughter's husband was. Since he would be a live-in son-in-law, the heir would still be a man of the family.
Besides, wasn't I a knight of far greater value than Powell Osborne?
Using his daughter like an object to achieve political goals was typical of a nobleman.
When I showed a surprised expression, the baron's smile deepened.
“I hear you're scheduled to marry the new Baroness of Rasino? But is there really a need for that? If you marry my daughter, a land larger and better than the Rasino barony will naturally become yours. I don't have much longer to live, so you won't even have to wait long.”
“So, you're telling me to betray them?”
“If we join forces, we could even conquer the Rasino barony.”
He wasn't wrong. The Rasino barony, exhausted by successive wars, lacked the strength to stop an alliance between me and Baron Debussy.
He continued.
“My power base is incomparably more solid than Baron Rasino's. Furthermore, the vassals who received my call to arms are drawing closer even as we speak.”
That was a warning that it would be dangerous not to accept his offer.
The baron tempted me with a delicious-looking bait in one hand and threatened me with a whip in the other.
He was certainly a man so capable it felt unfair to compare him to the late Baron Rasino.
The problem was, I had no intention of accepting his offer.
“I refuse.”
The baron looked like he couldn't understand.
“Why? I thought it was a peerless offer for you…”
“Being told to share a bed with the wife of Sir Powell, a man I killed, is a perilous matter to begin with. And dying in bed is a great dishonor.”
“I will give you my word on that. My daughter would never do such a thing.”
The baron's daughter nodded, playing the part of a pitiful heroine. She even squeezed out a tear.
She'd been doing nothing but disgusting things from the start. My patience had reached its limit.
I had listened in hopes of some special offer I hadn't considered, but it was just a waste of time. I decided to be honest.
“There's one more reason. No, this is the most important reason.”
“What is it? Just say the word.”
Baron Debussy's attitude suggested he would meet any condition. But this was a problem he couldn't solve.
“To be honest, your daughter is too ugly.”
A moment of silence fell over the grand hall.