The Living Bait
The heart of the crisis commercial district. In front of a weathered, massive three-story stone building, the stench of blood and cheap liquor hung thick in the air. Above the entrance, a crudely hung emblem of crossed swords and shield. This was the Adventurer's Guild of Shedborax, where martial might was converted directly into coin. The moment I pushed open the door, a cacophony of noise assaulted my ears. The lobby teemed with mercenaries guzzling beer even in broad daylight, their weapons still strapped on; otherworlders haggling loudly in front of the quest board; and native staff weighing spoils at the counters. It was raw, untamed vitality that made Grum's dismantling yard seem tame by comparison.
I quietly made my way to the new registration counter in the corner, paid a few copper coins, and completed my adventurer registration. What was placed in my hand was a crudely carved gray Stone plaque with no luster whatsoever.
Registered with the Adventurer's Guild. Current rank: Stone.
The guild's class system was strict and brutally straightforward. At the very bottom were fresh recruits—newcomers and local thugs—given the rank of Stone. Above that came Bronze for those who accumulated achievements, then Iron, the mark of a proper professional adventurer. Once past Iron, the gap in power widened dramatically, despairingly so. Silver marked those who had crossed the threshold into true superhuman territory, their combat capabilities surging. Gold represented the top 0.1% monsters. And finally, Platinum, treated as legend even within the guild.
The next target I needed to hunt, the Troll, was a Silver-rank monster that only those superhumans could face. It was said that only something on the level of an Ogre would sit at the boundary between Silver and Gold. As I hung the Stone plaque around my neck and approached the quest board, the surrounding mercenaries openly sneered.
"Well, well, another idiot dropped from the sky looking to throw his life away."
"Hey, Stone. Stop loitering and go find some sewer-cleaning quest. With your stats, even a goblin would rip your head off."
Ignoring their jeers, I quickly scanned the parchments on the board. Before long, a blood-red ink notice at the top caught my eye.
[Subjugation] Subjugate the troll pack in Black Moss Forest and recover byproducts. Recommended rank: Silver or higher party. Reward: 5 gold coins and ownership of spoils.
Silver rank. With the Stone plaque hanging from my chest, participating as a combatant was impossible. Yet without hesitation, I headed toward the party recruitment spot listed beneath the notice—a round table in one corner of the lobby. Seated there was a four-person party armed with high-quality mithril chainmail and a staff imbued with mana. Gleaming Silver plaques adorned their chests.
"Excuse me. Are you here for the Black Moss Forest subjugation?"
When I approached and spoke carefully, the scarred swordsman who appeared to be the leader slammed his mug down and looked me up and down.
"What the hell is this scrawny bastard? Are you blind? We're here for a Silver-rank quest… Haha! Fuck, he's a Stone?"
At his hearty laughter, the archer and mage seated beside him also snickered.
"I'm not applying as a combatant," I said, wearing the most perfect capitalist, servile smile I could muster despite their mockery, and lowered my head. "To reach the depths of the forest, you'll need camping gear, potions, and a porter to carry the heavy troll hides and bones, won't you? According to guild regulations, even if I can't join as a combatant, I can still accompany you as non-combat support. You don't have to pay me. Just allow me to take a few scraps of byproducts."
The scarred swordsman's eyebrow twitched at my proposal. He studied my gaunt frame, then exchanged a meaningful glance with the mage beside him. The mage leaned in and whispered into the swordsman's ear.
"…We were going to need bait anyway, since trolls have sharp noses. Using him as a porter and tossing him at the right moment would be perfect."
A sly, greedy smile spread across the swordsman's lips.
"Fine. I was just about to look for a porter anyway. If you're not even asking for pay, there's no reason to refuse. Just make sure you don't piss yourself and run when the trolls show up—hold onto the luggage tight. Got it?"
"Thank you. I'll take full responsibility for the luggage."
I bowed at the waist as I answered. Inside, I smiled coldly. Do you really think I don't know what you're planning? In Shedborax, Silver-rank mercenaries had no reason to bring along a complete stranger for free. I had already calculated that they intended to use me as a living meat shield and bait to shove into a troll's maw in the middle of the forest. Even so, the only reason I volunteered for this insane arrangement was simple: I could never obtain a troll's heart blood and tendons by safely circling the outskirts. To quickly harvest troll byproducts and upgrade my Substitute Doll and tattoos to the next level, I had to be willing to stake this much on a death game. After all, my own plan was to wait until they exhausted themselves fighting the trolls, then activate my stocked sorcery and snatch only the most vital heart before fleeing.
"What's your name, Stone?"
"Mokwon."
"Good, Mokwon. Go grab the luggage cart. We're heading to Black Moss Forest right now."
I slung the rope of the old luggage cart provided by the guild over my shoulder.
Sorcery Stock (3/3) — Preparation complete.
Conscious of the blue-black tattoos coiled beneath my sleeve and the crude Substitute Doll hidden in my robes, I pulled the cart. My gaze on the backs of the Silver-rank mercenaries walking ahead was ice-cold. This was a thoroughly deceptive companionship where each side sought to use the other as expendable material. Once we passed through the village gates, the foul stench of rotting moss and the ominous vista of Black Moss Forest shrouded in thick mist unfolded before us. The fog carried a toxic quality that felt as though it would rot your lungs just by breathing it in.
The party consisted of four members: the greatsword-wielding swordsman Kael, the mage Vans, the shield warrior Borman, and the female rogue Elara. While they calculated the timing to throw me to the trolls as bait, I too walked a razor-thin sheet of ice, watching for an opening to drive sorcery into their backs. But that flimsy calculation and tension shattered completely the moment a seismic footstep echoed through the forest, long before we reached its depths.
Thud—! Thud—!! Massive ancient trees snapped like toothpicks as a colossal silhouette burst through the dense mist. A hulking frame easily over three meters tall. Hideously protruding fangs and green skin that writhed as wounds healed at a grotesque speed. It was the Silver-rank monster I had targeted—the Troll.
"……!"
The overwhelming mass and bestial stench crashed over me, and my legs froze solid. Even after raising my stats to 15 and building a meager confidence by killing people, the creature before me was a true predator on an entirely different level from anything I had encountered. Yet something was wrong. The troll's eyes, upon spotting us, were filled not with hunger but with raw, primal terror. It had not come to hunt us—it was fleeing madly from something behind it.
"Damn it! Of all times to pop out right in front of us!"
At that moment, Kael, who had been walking ahead, suddenly spun around and swung his greatsword straight at my leg without hesitation. His intent was to spill fresh blood and meat to draw the troll's attention. Dodge……! My mind perfectly read Kael's intention and ordered evasion. But the speed of a Silver-rank swordsman standing at the threshold of superhuman ability was far beyond what a body with stats of 15 could react to. I couldn't even see the trajectory of the greatsword being drawn. Swish—! Kael's blade mercilessly struck my left Achilles tendon. In that instant, the blood-red Substitute Doll I had hidden deep in my robes vibrated violently, attempting to absorb the physical blow. The reversal of causality activated for a split second. Crack—! Flash! But the heavy strike infused with the Silver-rank swordsman's aura far exceeded the output limit of the crude Substitute Doll made from nothing more than a swamp lizard. The doll shattered without fully absorbing the impact, and the remaining damage tore halfway through the flesh and tendon of my ankle.
"Graaaah—!!"
With a dull shock from the doll's destruction and the horrific pain of my severed Achilles tendon, I screamed like a beast and collapsed into the mud. The cart overturned, staining the ground with red blood. Even my meager insurance proved no match for the overwhelming might of Silver rank—it was torn apart like tissue paper.
"Play your role as bait properly, Stone!"
Kael kicked my shoulder as I lay bleeding and hurled me directly in front of the charging troll. A perfect lizard-tail sacrifice. Covered in blood, I clawed at the muddy ground. It was over. Before I could even activate my stock, I would be crushed beneath the massive troll's foot or chewed to pieces in its maw. However—
The troll, which had been charging wildly, glanced down at me lying in a pool of blood and at the Silver-rank party now in formation with weapons drawn…… then, as if possessing not a shred of interest or attachment, it violently changed direction and fled madly toward the opposite side of the forest. A Silver-rank monster had chosen to abandon the fresh blood right before its eyes and escape instead.
"Wh-what? Why's that bastard doing that?"
"Kael! Beyond the mist…… something's coming!"
Mage Vans shouted, his face drained of color. Even to my ears as I lay in the mud, I could feel a massive wave of death approaching—one that dwarfed the troll's footsteps, pressing down on the entire forest's atmosphere. The true calamity that had driven the troll into terror was opening its maw beyond the mist.