Chapter 15
Chapter 15
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 015
Chapter Title: I'm Still Hungry
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Shan borrowed the deceased knight's warhorse to ride, but the beast acted finicky, as if it wasn't at all pleased with him mounting its back.
It might have shared a special bond with its previous owner, or perhaps the weight riding on its back was too light for it to trust.
To that end, Shan apologized to the other subjugation squad members and took some time to break in the warhorse.
Just as Roden had taught him, he yanked harshly on the reins or kicked its flanks to provoke it, then endured atop the bucking beast as it thrashed wildly to throw him off.
Thanks to that, the knight's warhorse was now somewhat drained, but Shan was satisfied nonetheless.
It obeyed his will without resistance, and the speed it galloped at exceeded his expectations.
'Insanely fast...!'
The black horse he'd ridden for this expedition was decent compared to the gray one he'd mounted before, but it was nothing next to this one.
Even in the muggy summer heat, the wind whipping his face with every pound of its four hooves felt refreshingly cool.
Moreover, the beast possessed a finesse and intelligence the black horse lacked.
By subtly shifting his weight on the stirrups without even holding the reins, he could accelerate or decelerate, or make precise turns.
It felt like four sturdy new legs had sprouted for him.
'I want an even better horse!'
A desire he'd never felt while riding those previous two horses suddenly sprouted within Shan.
Come to think of it, the horse that Peonil Alten had ridden was even faster than this one, or so he'd heard.
A mount befitting someone of his stature was probably one of those legendary Horace warhorses, renowned far and wide.
What would it feel like to charge at tremendous speed on such a beast, thrusting a lance forward...?
His excited thoughts snapped back to reality.
Right now, he was charging head-on toward the troll barreling straight at him.
With his life on the line in this dire moment, he needed to focus here first.
Of course, Shan felt no sense of mortal peril whatsoever.
Because in the blink of an instant that would seem mere fractions of a second to others, he could perceive and contemplate far more.
The first thing to do was assess the approaching troll's condition.
Last night, it had been too distant to see more than its silhouette, but now it was fully revealed under the sunlight.
'It's lost a lot of weight.'
Unlike its initially plump form, the troll now had a slender waist and bulging muscles all over its body.
It seemed it hadn't replenished the flesh it lost in the previous battle by eating anything.
Come to think of it, hadn't it left Knight Soros's corpse uneaten and just tossed aside?
That was probably meant to instill fear or provoke them, but put another way, it meant the troll hadn't felt the need to eat anything.
Judging by its more agile movements, it had sacrificed some of its superior strength from its bulk, along with defense, stamina, and regeneration, in favor of speed.
'Won't help you anyway.'
At the moment of collision, Shan raised the knight's lance he'd received along with the horse and thrust it down with one hand.
It traced the ideal trajectory that wasted not a single ounce of power, just like the one Black Spear Peonil had demonstrated before.
Though it lacked the same destructive might, the power born of proper form could not be ignored.
Added to that were the excellent warhorse's speed and weight, plus the finely crafted knight's lance, multiplying its force several times over from yesterday.
Had he stabbed its eye like yesterday, it might have shredded its brain and pierced its skull, but since it raised its thick hand to shield its face, he adjusted slightly and targeted its throat instead.
No threat to its life, but the troll coughed harshly as if breathing was difficult, yanking the lance from its neck.
A gush of blood poured out, the wound slowly knitting closed before his eyes.
"One hit down..."
It had lost its longest weapon, but the lance had already fulfilled its role by halting the troll's charge and robbing its momentum.
What Shan drew next was the harpoon he'd bought from the shop.
Just as he'd shown in front of merchant Povab at the city gates, Shan circled the troll on horseback, built up speed, and thrust the harpoon home.
This time, he targeted the Achilles tendon area, where the hide was thin with sparse fur, low in defense—and which would also cripple its mobility.
"Nice! That's it!"
"Reinforcements are coming now, so hang in there just a bit longer!"
As he diligently slashed at it, Kob and Soros's squire shouted encouragement from afar, as they'd pre-arranged.
It might seem pointless, but surprisingly, it helped quite a bit.
The humans on horseback yelling unknown words distracted the troll, making it glance back repeatedly.
Whenever it did, Shan kept attacking to draw its attention.
It blocked an arrow aimed at its eye with the back of its hand, then lumbered forward swinging its club, but at Shan's command, the warhorse deftly widened the distance.
A true display of perfect unity between rider and mount.
"Look over here. Your opponent is me."
The troll bellowed in rage at his low murmur.
Unlike when it had feared the two knights before, now it seemed purely furious.
Probably because it sensed no overwhelming presence or lethal power in Shan's attacks that could end its life in one blow.
To it, he wasn't a threatening foe but a mere annoying insect buzzing like a mayfly.
Considering his role as bait, that was fortunate, but it left a bitter taste nonetheless.
'I wish I could wield that kind of presence soon, too.'
If so, that first clash would've pierced its hand and head with the lance, scrambled its brain, and ended it right there.
Unfortunately, such power didn't come gushing out just because he willed it.
After several more clashes, Shan embedded the last two harpoons into its tendons, sealing its mobility, then glanced down.
He could feel the horse's heart pounding fiercely, its breath ragged.
'You're tired.'
Facing a fearsome troll must have taken a toll, but more than that, the morning's wild bucking to establish dominance seemed the real culprit.
Had they skipped that, he couldn't have handled the horse so perfectly from the start, so it was a necessary trade-off.
As he pondered dismounting to fight on foot, the thunder of hooves trampling the earth reached him from afar.
"I'm here—!"
Knight Karta, who'd pulled back to the very edge of visibility to lure the troll, roared thunderously as he charged lance-first.
The troll, which had memorized his appearance and voice from yesterday's fight, finally showed fear in its eyes.
It tried to evade, but with harpoons dangling from its heels, it couldn't move nimbly as before.
Knight Karta's full-speed thrust pierced its back, unlike Shan's minor throat prick—instead carving a hole larger than a man's head.
No matter how immortal-like a monster the troll was, it couldn't stand with its spine obliterated.
As it collapsed, Knight Karta leaped off his horse, drawing his longsword.
His horse, having sprinted over a kilometer at full gallop, foamed at the mouth.
"Now let's finish this!"
"Yes!"
Shan, after a brief hesitation, also dismounted and drew the knight's longsword.
This was his first time wielding a two-handed longsword, but having watched the two knights use it yesterday, it wasn't difficult.
Though blocking the club with it like they did would be impossible.
While Knight Karta grappled with the troll's upper body resistance, Shan circled behind and stabbed its slowly regenerating spine, twisting the blade to shred it.
With a sharp, sturdy knight's longsword, ripping open unprotected wounds was no challenge despite the fur and hide.
Knight Karta, seeing this from across, laughed heartily and shouted.
"Good! Keep doing that!"
For the troll, it was maddening.
In front, a foe who could decapitate it if it slipped threatened with whirling sword swings; behind, a weaker but nimbler pest burrowed into its wounds like a maggot.
Its hyper-regeneration constantly burned through bodily nutrients to repair the spine, drying up its fat reserves in no time.
Soon, it would consume its sturdy muscles, and that would be the end.
The troll wrung out cunning intellect, rolling its eyes left and right before making its final decision.
First, ignore the knight and swing the club wildly at the kid to lure him close.
Then, as Karta moved to behead it from behind, it tracked his shadow precisely, hurled the club, and rolled sideways onto the ground.
In other words, an all-or-nothing body slam.
"Kuh...!?"
The unprecedented sight of the legless troll using its arms to roll and attack.
Knight Karta, lulled into complacency by the advantageous situation, was helplessly swept up, tumbling to the ground with it.
At the last moment, severing one reaching arm was his final resistance.
Even stripped of fat, its bone-and-muscle mass exceeded hundreds of kilograms.
The agony of a broken arm and crushed ribs drew involuntary groans.
Had it retained its initial fat reserves, that alone would've killed him.
"Cough, heave."
As he painfully exhaled, Knight Karta realized the troll was atop him, drooling as it gripped his helmet with its remaining hand and gaped its jaws to devour him.
'No!'
He saw the pitch-black void behind its razor teeth closing in to swallow him.
With his knighthood freshly bestowed and a bright future ahead, was this how it ended—in a troll hunt, no less? Recorded as slain ignominiously by a troll despite two knights combining their strength?
As memories flashed by like a panorama, something gleaming in the sunlight zipped past, plunging into the troll's maw.
With a tearing sound, the troll's jaws halted inches from Knight Karta.
"Ah..."
Only then did Knight Karta notice Shan, who'd swiftly circled back, shoving his arm into the troll's gaping mouth.
In his withdrawn hand gleamed the longsword that had pierced the roof of its mouth and scrambled the brain.
"You okay?"
"Th-this thing... get it off..."
At the plea to remove the crushing troll corpse, Shan tossed the longsword aside and strained to shove it, but the massive body didn't budge.
Kob and Soros's squire rushed over upon realizing the troll was dead, and only by combining their strength did they manage to roll the body halfway off, freeing Knight Karta.
A short while later, the other subjugation squad members arrived panting from afar and cheered at the troll sprawled on the ground.
"We got it—!"
"Long live Knight Karta!"
"No, are you alright, Sir Knight? Your condition..."
"Fighting until it came to this."
Knight Karta's squire, leading the second group, rushed to tend his lord.
Of course, Soros's squire had already handled emergency measures like removing the armor and setting bones, so there wasn't much left to do.
The seasoned hunter diagnosed the knight's state.
"No blood from the mouth, so thankfully your internals seem intact."
"Haa..."
As Karta's squire sighed in relief, the late-arriving squad members hit upon a puzzle.
No visible fatal wound to explain the troll's death.
"Did it bleed out too much?"
"Maybe. It looks insanely withered. Like someone caught it and wrung it dry..."
"Stabbed through the roof of the mouth into the brain with a sword."
All eyes turned to Kob, the Altoin swordsman who'd spoken.
He pointed proudly at Shan.
"That guy over there—the Altoin you all looked down on—finished the troll. I saw it clear as day."
Shan ignored their chatter, focused on his task.
Probing the troll's body with every weapon he had, stabbing and slicing to identify weak points.
This knowledge would help if they fought another one.
'Stabbing the ears won't reach the brain. Unlike humans, it has bone under the jaw protecting the head... and why bone in the nose? Guess only the eyes or mouth work?'
With its sole weakness the brain, the troll's skull encased it far more thoroughly than a human's.
Its neck vertebrae were thick and hard to sever, too.
Meanwhile, the squabble among the squad ended when Soros's squire confirmed it as truth.
Had Shan not plucked its eyes yesterday, they never would've believed it.
Next came spoils collection.
The troll's loot was its bones.
Valuable as high-grade medicine, the potion Roden had used to heal Shan's chest was made from troll bone extract.
While Shan—who'd fought—and badly injured Knight Karta rested aside, the squad used massive razors, saws, chisels, hammers, and more to strip fur, skin, flesh, and organs, extracting and sorting the bones.
Soon, nothing remained of the gaunt giant but tattered fur, skin, meat, and guts.
"Ugh, so heavy."
"Don't slack—lift more!"
The dense troll bones weighed over two hundred kilograms total, requiring multiple people and even saddle-packing.
The two squires carried Karta on a makeshift litter, while Shan ignored protests, dismounted, and hefted as much bone as he could.
Fortunately, no monsters attacked on the return; the lingering blood scent on the bones, even after de-fleshing, warded them off.
As the sun dipped low, the city guards gaped at the expedition members laden with troll bones.
Shan waved to Roden, who'd rushed over upon hearing.
"I'm back!"
"No injuries this time?"
"All good!"
True, his forearm had scraped teeth shoving his hand in its mouth, but by Shan's standards, that hardly counted.
Soon after, Roden participated in spoils distribution as Shan's proxy, negotiating.
Though Shan didn't follow details, it seemed they argued for higher rewards since this troll was exceptionally cunning.
As Shan stepped back to clean his blade, uninterested in the haggling, Roden approached with something.
"Here."
"What's this?"
"Your reward, obviously."
Shan stared blankly at the hefty coin pouch placed before him.
Povab had said scouts earned little.
Roden snorted in disbelief.
"You lured and fought the troll solo, then delivered the killing blow? Getting mere night scout pay would be robbery. Half the posted bounty plus half the bone sale goes to you."
The rest was divided among the dead knight, hunters, and warriors.
Listening quietly, Shan realized the surviving knight's share was missing and asked.
"What about that knight?"
"Knight Karta? He yielded his to you. Said you saved his life—practically dead otherwise. Without that, we'd have argued distribution for a week."
"Oh."
Sensing Shan's gaze, pale-faced Knight Karta approached with a faint smile.
"My thanks are belated, young hero. The return trip was too chaotic to speak."
He'd groaned on the litter the whole way back, but now seemed improved by a priest's healing miracle.
Still far from full health, though.
"No need. More importantly, you gave up your pay—is that okay?"
"It stings, but I'll bear it. Realizing my shortcomings without sacrificing my life? A bargain."
No trace of the youthful arrogance Shan had seen that first day.
After countless trials tempering him to maturity, he'd probably become like Peonil.
Or die in battle somewhere before then.
"I won't consider saving my life repaid by mere coin. Wherever honor calls me, I'll proudly declare an Altoin boy named Shan saved me."
After conversing with Knight Karta, more squad members approached Shan, chattering.
From delighted Kob, grateful for the high shares from the lure, to nameless members hoping to fight together again.
On the way back to the mansion, Shan unwittingly sighed in regret.
"Haa..."
"What?"
"That warhorse and gear were really great."
The deceased Knight Soros's horse and equipment would be recovered by his squire and returned to his family.
Knight Karta, a loose acquaintance at best, would escort them.
Roden patted Shan's regretting shoulder encouragingly.
"I'd love to give them to you, but we can't steal from the dead. Anyway, we're heading to the capital soon—let's snag better ones then. You've got money now, right?"
"Money... yeah, my money."
"Exactly. Yours. No one else's."
Shan jingled the coin sack in his pocket.
Real money, unlike the melted gold lump from Willow Village.
Not handouts from Roden, but earned through his own labor—the first in his life.
"I'll save this money, not spend it."
"Wouldn't better weapons or a horse be smarter?"
"Ah."
Realizing this could fulfill his recent desire, Shan suddenly understood people's frenzy for wealth.
Mere metal otherwise worthless, yet payment unlocked anything needed.
The boy who'd learned desire for strength and power now awakened to riches.
Desire as a driving force? Like adding another sail to propel him forward.
Three days after returning from the troll subjugation.
Shan felt popularity for the first time in his life.
Was it rare for a boy in his early teens to strut around armed like a mercenary?
Wherever he walked, people whispered: "Is that the Altoin boy who contributed most to slaying the troll?"
He was used to being gossip fodder, but never positively before—now he panicked, hiding behind accompanying Roden.
Looking his age like a child, Roden chuckled.
"Why so shy?"
"Just... feels weird."
"Get used to it. To become a knight, you need far more fame than this."
His skills already warranted knighthood; considering his age, nobles would line up.
But he was Altoin.
To weather nobles sneering, "Knighting an Altoin? Insane?" he needed vastly more achievements.
Until some noble dubbing him prompted: "Ah, that Shan. Even as an Altoin, he deserves it."
"Remember: for knights, fame is as vital a resource as gold. Kings and nobles judge skill by reputation alone."
Nobles didn't test warriors' strength, speed, precision, or wits personally.
Proof was feats: what mighty monsters or knights they'd vanquished.
The past three days' schmoozing with Ovilros's elites via Povab's introductions was part of that.
Shan spectated mutely while Roden handled the networking.
Mentioning it, Roden nagged again.
"They're commoners now and you're young, so it's fine, but learn etiquette properly. I can't always do it for you."
"It's too hard..."
How to hold utensils, speak—useless for fighting—yawn-inducing trivia.
Memorizing uninteresting names was tedious.
That explained his lack of progress despite Roden's constant tutoring.
'Smart kid, but poor focus and no interest...'
As Roden pondered like a parent of a study-hating child, Povab's servant approached cautiously.
"Young master."
"What is it?"
"Someone from the main house arrived."
"Ah, finally."
Three days since sending a messenger post-hunt.
Roden's father had sent men to retrieve his runaway son.