Chapter 38
Chapter 38
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 38
Chapter Title: Birch Forest Divergence
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Unlike an ordinary forest thick with green foliage, a landscape unfolded where strikingly white trees stood out prominently.
Areas where branches had snapped off here and there resembled countless eyes staring back, lending the scene an eerie chill.
Deep within this grotesque forest that no ordinary person would dare approach, a group advanced cautiously ahead.
“Hey, Captain. I've got a question.”
“Speak.”
At the rear of the Blossom Squad leading the vanguard, Ralph posed the question to the back of Ian's head while handling minor tasks on the move.
“You said the Troll King might have revived. But from what I know, the Troll King lost to Iron Mask.”
“Correct. That's the story that spread.”
Ralph let out a groan at Ian's level reply before cautiously opening his mouth.
“...I don't know why it's always me bringing this up, but isn't this mission dangerous?”
It might sound like whining at first glance, but Ralph's concerns always carried vigilance for the worst-case scenario.
'He looks like a damn mountain bandit, but he's got a sharp mind under it all.'
Ian smirked to himself, masking his thoughts as he replied.
“It is. Even if Sophia is one of the clan's little stars, that doesn't make her stronger than Iron Mask.”
Iron Mask was one of the handful of supreme experts even among the Great Flood's powerhouses.
In other words, even the most promising talents in the Martial Clan would worry whether they could match the Troll King—who had clashed head-on with Iron Mask, even if defeated.
But.
“That's precisely why Sophia's rushing like this.”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
Ralph, not grasping it at first, shot back a question.
“Trolls already have sky-high magic resistance as monsters. Their king? No need to elaborate. Here's the key point: If the Troll King truly regained all his power, would he settle for just slaughtering the wizards who wandered into the forest? When right under his nose are hordes of insolent humans who struck him from behind?”
“……!!”
The squad members' eyes widened as realization dawned upon hearing Ian's explanation.
“Exactly.”
Ian nodded, affirming their hunch.
“The Troll King hasn't fully recovered his strength yet. No doubt about it.”
'Not a total fool, then.'
Sophia, eavesdropping on Ian and the Latent Dragon Squad's exchange from up front, quietly raised her assessment of him.
When she'd heard of his victories over Fire Mountain and the Red Sand Squad, her thought had been that he wasn't utter trash beyond saving.
Now she added that he could actually use his brain a notch above a fish.
As Ian predicted, Sophia was certain the Troll King hadn't regained his full power.
Even counting back from the first disappearance—not the Tower's request—it had been less than three months.
No way a beast that powerful, troll or not, recovered so effortlessly in that time.
If he had, he'd have made his move ages ago.
'This is my chance.'
Recovered or not, slaying a beast tied to such legends would skyrocket her standing in the family.
Even if she still trailed the Eldest Young Lord, Alex, by a step.
She'd definitely pull ahead of Manus or Andy, at least.
'Thunderhead idiot included.'
Sophia finished her calculations.
Just then, a fork appeared before her: a narrow trail and a broader road wide enough for carriages.
An ordinary split, but something caught Sophia's eye. Her own lit up as she summoned a Blossom Squad member.
“Someone fetch the Latent Dragon Captain. I need to speak with him.”
The moment to claim all the glory had arrived.
“You want to split the unit in two and take separate paths?”
Ian, summoned to the front, echoed her words.
“As you can see, the road forks. Seems efficient, doesn't it?”
“We haven't confirmed what's inside anything yet. Isn't that too hasty?”
Ian sensed Sophia pushing to divide them rashly without intel, but she stood firm.
“No. You heard Elder Rocerto too—you must have an idea. This is a race against time. Every moment counts, so grasping the forest's state fast is priority one.”
Sophia had a point.
If the Troll King had revived as Elder Rocerto claimed—but without full power—then yes, pinpointing the birch forest incidents and crushing the Black Rock Trolls ASAP was key.
But only if it succeeded.
Dispersing their concentrated force would drastically weaken their punch.
If the hidden monsters outmatched expectations, the fallout could be catastrophic.
“...No matter how I look at it, too risky. We don't even know the threats, and splitting blindly out of urgency? Think it over once more?”
Ian voiced opposition again, but Sophia just shook her head.
“Sorry, my stance hasn't changed. And when opinions clash... you know the Martial Clan's rule.”
“......”
“Nothing more to say? Then we proceed as the mission lead—me—decides.”
A furrow crept into Ian's brow.
A former Hegemon who'd once dominated the Northern Continent—when had he endured such treatment?
But no choice.
Sophia was his superior, facts unchanged.
“...Hah. Fine. If that's your call.”
As Ian sighed, Sophia offered false comfort.
“Hey, don't sweat it. You think I'd send Latent Dragon down the main road?”
Swoosh!
Sophia jabbed a finger at the narrow left path.
“Latent Dragon just scouts that narrow one. Don't go deep—just gauge the situation and pull back fast. Clear?”
“Got it.”
Ian shrugged at her bullheadedness and turned toward his squad, but halted midway.
“Oh, right.”
Whoosh!
“C-Captain?!”
Ian's hand snagged the nape of Sylvia, standing beside Sophia.
“We'll take Sylvia with us.”
“What?! What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”
Sophia yelped in shock at Ian's abrupt declaration, but he replied flatly.
“Mission lead or not, Sylvia's one of ours. Yanking my squad member on a whim... violates the ‘Martial Clan's rule,’ I trust you know.”
“...Urk!”
“No more words? Then we're off. Days are short in this forest—better secure camp quick.”
Ian curled his lips into a smirk, hauling Sylvia away and leaving Sophia with a stung expression.
She was more entertaining than expected, but that didn't mean he'd roll over when she dismissed him.
He wasn't the type to just take it lying down.
“Eeeek...!!”
Sophia stomped her feet watching Ian and Sylvia recede, but she was powerless.
She wanted to drag Sylvia back, but as Ian said—business was business, personal was personal.
Infuriatingly, not a word out of place.
“Captain, what now?”
Blossom Squad's vice-captain, Leona, asked Sophia.
“If you want, I'll fetch Miss Sylvia by force.”
“...No. Actually, it's for the best.”
Sophia bit her lip.
“Missing Sylvia stings like hell, but nothing changes. We take the right path.”
Sophia's gaze shifted from spoiled-sister eyes to Blossom Captain resolve in that instant.
“While Latent Dragon wastes time on the left, we'll wrap it all up and head back. No way the birch forest powers are hunkered in some narrow trail.”
An audacious claim to finish everything before Ian's squad even shone, but Sophia brimmed with confidence.
Troll King or whatever.
Half-established rabble couldn't touch Blossom Squad.
One reason: her inclusion.
To Sophia, this wasn't arrogance or overreach.
Just faith in the weight of "Martial Clan's Little Star" and her skills.
Towering trees.
A modest hillock cave nestled between them looked ordinary enough for wild beasts.
But venture inside, and its vast depths would stun.
Not just spacious.
Elongated stalactites from the ceiling proved its ancient origins.
Deep in the cavernous abyss.
Hardy trolls evoking the rocks themselves massed in numbers.
Their gazes hungered toward a platform within.
Atop the focal platform.
A troll twice the size of its kin slumped against the wall.
“Huff... huff...”
The giant troll wheezed raggedly, frail as a withered elder despite its bulk—clearly unwell.
Irked by their king's feeble struggle to steady his breath amid their stares?
A cluster of trolls wheeled a laden cart slowly onto the platform.
“Gruk. Fresh tribute today, as always.”
Rumble!
They tilted the cart, spilling its contents.
Nude humans tumbled onto the platform—the so-called "tributes."
“Uwaaaah!!”
“Save me! Please!! I beg you!!”
Bound hand and foot, their desperate shrieks echoed mercilessly, but stirred no one.
To them, just a meal for the platform troll.
Ssssss...
“Hiiiiiik!!!”
As the weakened troll rose and lumbered toward them, struggles intensified.
They'd witnessed predecessors' gruesome ends these past days.
Tributes flailed to flee, but the cramped platform offered no room.
Surrounded by trolls, escape was a fantasy.
Snap!
One seized in the troll's grip.
“Aaaagh! Aaaaah!”
Frantic screams at full volume, but they cut short.
Whoosh!
Life force and mana drained utterly, the once-vital human shriveled to a husk like a mummy, eyes glazing vacant.
“Guh... ugh... urk...”
Plop!
Discarded like trash, it snatched the next throat.
Crunch!
“Aaaagh!!”
“Aaaaagh...”
Before long.
The frail troll had siphoned every human's life and mana atop the platform.
Then, transformation began.
Thump...!
Deflated arms ballooned with muscle.
Writhe...!
Crumpled face flushed with ruddy vigor.
Steadying breaths signaled marked improvement.
“Huuuuuuh...”
“Gruk. How fared today's tribute?”
Feast done, the cart trolls queried deferentially.
“Our king, Attila.”
To the Black Rock Tribe's king—the Troll King who'd once vied with Iron Mask.
Troll King Attila.
He began rising anew from eons of shadow.