Chapter 11
Chapter 11
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: Fiends (5)
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Terti's eyes quickly scanned the surroundings. There were no suspicious spots within the range of his senses.
"We just need to focus on the troll."
"Let's go right away. It's urgent."
"You're planning to help?"
"You're doing the same, aren't you?"
Galen said as he set down his bag behind him.
He didn't like the mercenaries at the campsite much, but he wasn't about to let them die while they fled toward him begging for their lives.
The troll wouldn't neatly target just them and leave anyway. If a fight was inevitable, he had the magnanimity to extend a bit of mercy while he was at it.
That was Galen, and from observing Terti over the past few days, he seemed cut from the same cloth. Not exactly saintly, but far from heartless.
"Thank you."
Sometimes understanding passed without lengthy words. After a quick exchange of intentions, the two leaped into motion.
But it was still a mountain path, gentle or not, and uphill at that. They started strong, but Galen tired out fast.
"Go ahead first... huff."
"You sure?"
Breathless, Galen nodded instead of answering. With just one fiend ahead to worry about, there was no need to run neck and neck.
Terti nodded back and accelerated. Far superior in both speed and stamina, he surged forward in a flash. He'd been holding back considerably for Galen's sake.
Times like this made him envy warriors. Grumbling inwardly, Galen pressed on diligently. Even as his breath grew ragged, his mind stayed razor-sharp.
"Huff... huff."
Two here, five mercenaries fleeing, one troll in pursuit. With both sides closing in, the distance shrank rapidly.
The troll's form—known only from tales until now—came into clear view for Galen.
Nearly twice the height of a burly adult man, its limbs were thick as logs. Its build looked blunt and wide, as if spread sideways.
In truth, trolls weren't fiends known for their agility.
They just weren't slow enough that Bronze-rankers fleeing couldn't be caught.
Thwack!
The slowest mercenary took a club swing from behind. Matching the troll's massive frame, the crudely snapped tree-branch club had an unnatural girth and length.
"Ugh."
Galen furrowed his brow. A human head pulped like that was gruesome beyond words. Sure, he'd bashed fiend skulls over the past few days, but never with enough force to obliterate their shape entirely.
Even with Terti charging ahead first, it took time to reach them. In the interim, another mercenary was overtaken and trampled like an insect.
"Grrk!"
Now three mercenaries remained. Likely two after a few more breaths. Precisely as the troll closed on the next victim and swung its gore-smeared club.
Terti was already too late. Unless he pulled some mad stunt like diving in to shield them from the blow, he couldn't intercept in time.
But Galen wasn't late yet. Lagging far behind Terti, he was a mage after all.
'This range should work.'
It was worth maintaining his focus since earlier.
Gathering mere ambient moisture would have been tough, but a stream now flowed right beside Galen.
The magic's prelude snaked upstream along the brook. The gentle current warped.
Splash!
The charging troll, oblivious, was suddenly drenched head to toe by overflowing brook water.
Too distant to infuse much power into the control, but the surprise deluge alone was enough to halt it.
"Gruk?"
The baffled troll glanced around, clueless as to who'd doused it.
In that opening, Terti made contact with the mercenaries. Brushing past their hell-delivered expressions, he said curtly,
"Fall back."
"Th-thank you."
The mercenaries, barely halting, gasped for air. Terti clicked his tongue and pointed behind them.
"If you're grateful, quit running and protect that guy instead."
"Huh?"
"Guard the mage. I can't cover him."
Only then did the mercenaries notice the troll was inexplicably soaked. With "mage" ringing in their ears, they pieced together why it had stopped.
Personalities aside, they were Bronze-rankers—standard mercenary caliber in skill and experience. They grasped Terti's meaning at once.
"Ah, understood!"
They shouted crisply and bolted to escort Galen.
With its marked prey slipping away, the troll snapped to. Its gaze, briefly scattered by the drenching, now locked onto Terti.
Toward the insolent human refusing to flee, the troll unleashed a ferocious club swing.
Whoosh!
Terti dodged back swiftly and drew his sword. Tension and exhilaration mingled evenly in his eyes.
Slash!
Blood sprayed from the troll's body.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Galen arrived dragging his weary body, and the three survivors approached cautiously.
"W-we'll escort you."
"Ah, sure."
Guessing the situation, Galen nodded vaguely. He was too winded for lengthy talk.
Regulating his breathing, he briefly analyzed Terti's fight.
'Fortunately, he doesn't look in danger.'
Trolls were generally said to be a tough solo matchup even for Silver-rank mercenaries.
Terti, a quasi-Gold and top-tier Silver, was holding his own admirably alone.
The troll held the edge in raw power and weight difference, so he never clashed weapons directly. Pure evasion.
But Terti clearly dominated in speed. He kept slashing at the troll's limbs mid-dodge.
The troll's skin, muscles, and bones were all insanely tough... In short, it couldn't be carved like a human. This was the best a Silver could manage.
'The issue is the troll's regeneration.'
Not quite the tall tales where a severed arm reattaches if pressed back, but simple cuts healed in moments. Terti had landed multiple strikes already, yet they showed scant effect.
The back-and-forth was tightrope-walking where one slip meant death, and regeneration dragged it into a protracted war. Inevitably grueling. If it dragged on like this, Terti's stamina would give out before the troll's.
'But that's for a warrior in a one-on-one.'
Galen drew a deep breath and bellowed,
"Terti! I'll target the upper body!"
"Got it!"
Terti shouted back. Galen shifted to where the brook water lapped just shy of his shoes.
Soon, the brook surged skyward instead of downstream.
The same water-bludgeon he used daily to smash fiend skulls.
But unlike usual, there were over ten head-sized globs.
A mere rivulet or not, its flow was incomparably richer than the ambient moisture he typically handled.
"Step aside a bit. Don't block my line of sight."
"Y-yes!"
The three mercenaries scrambled clear. Awe gleamed in their eyes, beholding magic for the first time.
Soon, the water globs rocketed off like cannonballs.
The troll, fixated on attacking Terti, panicked at the unexpected barrage.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
It managed to swat a couple away with its club, but like a baseball splintering a bat, the club shattered.
Plenty of cannonballs remained. Unblocked impacts hammered the troll relentlessly.
"Grrruk! Gruk!"
The troll shielded its head with its arms, thrashing about and flailing the broken club wildly.
Terti wouldn't let that slide. Circling to the side, he thrust his sword into the troll's arm.
Splurt!
Blood fountained like a geyser. A proper strike with breathing room—it packed real power. The troll's right arm was nearly severed halfway.
The half-club slipped from its grasp and hit the ground. Terti kicked it far away. No more improvised projectiles for Galen.
"Kuwaaak!"
The troll bellowed and lunged at Terti, who had already slipped beyond striking range.
And the magic was still in full swing.
Galen's hands moved like a conductor's. His left drew brook water into cannonballs; his right regathered the spent ones that had struck and fallen, forming more.
Thudthudthudthudthudthudthud!
Now over twenty globs assailed from every angle, pummeling the troll senseless. Head, shoulders, chest, back—hit evenly all over. Like a criminal under catapult fire.
"Fucking tanky bastard."
Galen muttered, scraping every last bit of mana for the rare satisfying beatdown.
Humans or Noils would've dropped from one solid hit, but the troll's durability was absurd; it refused to die easily. Even Terti's blade barely fazed it—enough said.
Sure, no issue pounding it to death like this, but a twinge of doubt crept in.
'I went simple because it costs the least mana. But if it tanks hits without dropping, it's a net loss.'
Who knew it'd be this resilient? Sunk cost on mana so far.
What's the most efficient way to finish it with remaining mana, without overly complex control?
'...Dunno if this'll work.'
He'd never tried it, never even seen Jerbon do it. Pure imagination in his head—Galen gestured into empty air.
Splash!
The assault paused briefly. Stationary cannonballs converged, merging into one.
A water mass far larger than the troll's head launched at a sluggish pace. Even so, the drained troll couldn't evade.
Thud!
But this cannonball didn't pulverize the skull—instead, it burst on impact, cascading straight down.
As the troll puzzled over the uncharacteristically feeble blow,
the runoff suddenly reformed. Centered on its head, like slapping an aquarium helmet over it.
"Gurgle?!"
Panic is the biggest killer in drowning. Suddenly submerged, the troll freaked; water flooded its air-evacuated lungs.
Splish! Splish! Splish!
It flailed madly to scoop away the water, but the blob was massive to begin with, and even clawing off chunks only led to Water Flow Manipulation restoring it instantly.
'Not gathering to a fixed air point, but layering it atop the troll's body...'
If the troll were spry, it might've strained Galen a bit. Matching onto a moving target was naturally harder than suspending in midair.
But if it'd had the vim left, it'd have dodged the initial globs. It was already battered to hell by then.
The troll had squandered its one shot: while any breath remained, charge Galen to disrupt his focus. No future lay ahead. Even if it had, Terti would've blocked anyway.
Thump!
After some futile flailing, the troll collapsed. Regeneration meant squat against suffocation.
In that instant, Galen felt a sensation gone far too long.
⚙ SYSTEM NOTIFICATION ⚙
Water Flow Manipulation Lv.40Progress to next level: 1%
A level stagnant for nearly two months had finally risen.
"Not bad, this."
Galen grinned in satisfaction.
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