The Indomitable Martial King

“Ha-aam.”

After yawning, the middle-aged soldier, Smid, looked at the sailing ships docked far away in the harbor. They were large vessels with multiple sails. Smid’s eyes turned wistful.

“Should I board one of those ships and set off far away?”

The young soldier, Vince, asked the veteran,

“Mr. Smid, did you ever have aspirations to become a sailor?”

“I did when I was younger. But after hearing the sailors’ stories, I gave up. It looks good, but once you’re on board, it’s hell.”

“But the pay is good, isn’t it?”

Vince looked at the ships with longing eyes. For the young Vince, the sailors’ tales of adventure, heard in the tavern, seemed quite attractive.

Smid looked at Vince with a disdainful expression and said,

“Tsk tsk, that’s youth for you. What’s the use of high pay? Half of those who go don’t come back alive.”

Those big ships were headed to the archipelagos on the southern continent, not just coastal waters. Long-distance trading and fishing vessels brought in plenty of haul, but the risks were equally high.

“Haven’t you heard about the Iruman, which was wiped out while hunting giant crabs recently?”

“I have confidence I’ll come back alive.”

“Usually, the ones who say that are the first to die.”

After giving this reprimand, Smid leaned against his spear.

“Coastal guards don’t get paid poorly, either. Living a long, quiet life is best.”

“But still…”

Vince frowned, looking somewhat dissatisfied.

Smid smiled silently. He knew there was no use preaching to the young about the value of life and the importance of longevity.

‘Just wait until you’re older. You’ll see that my words are true.’

While patrolling the pier leisurely, Vince suddenly looked around and said,

“Oh, fog is rolling in suddenly?”

Smid’s expression hardened.

“Huh? It wasn’t supposed to be foggy weather.”

Smid, a veteran of the coastal guard, was adept at predicting the weather along the coastline, his experience rivaling that of any seasoned sailor.

To Smid, tonight’s sea was supposed to be clear. Although night fog might seem to appear without warning, it always had signs. There was no way fog would suddenly arise like this.

“What’s going on?”

Smid, tense, adjusted his grip on the spear.

At that moment, a faint drumbeat sounded from somewhere.

Doom, doom, doom…

Simultaneously, a peculiar, chant-like song began to echo.

“From the dusky twilight lake, a black flood pours down from the cloud’s rapids…”

However, neither Smid nor Vince understood the song. It was not in a human language.

“What is this strange noise?”

Behind the two bewildered soldiers, a gigantic shadow emerged. A troll, with a lean muscular build and body covered in patterns, appeared through the fog, baring its white molars.

“Ugh!”

“Gah!”

Before the two could react, the troll extended both hands and waved them in front of their eyes. The troll snapped its fingers repeatedly and muttered.

Snap, snap!

“The night of poppies carried by the cotton cloud.”

The two soldiers fell to the ground like broken dolls. Shaking his braids, the troll caught them as they collapsed.

Carefully laying the soldiers down nearby, the troll muttered.

“I do not harm the innocent. I only wish for them to close their eyes for a while.”

After putting them to sleep with a spell, the troll lifted his head.

The fog gradually spread, covering the entire city of Kaltizan. Looking up at the sky, the troll sighed.

“The lamentation roams through the dark sky.”

Doom, doom, do-doom…

The troll rhythmically drummed the small drums hanging on his thighs. A mystical chant flowed from his mouth.

“I am the mist, seeping darkness, coming like the wind and disappearing without a trace.”

Merging with the surrounding fog through a concealment spell, the troll briefly surveyed the area.

As befitting a port, there were cargoes placed here and there. He uncovered a waterproof sheet draped over numerous boxes, then used it as a cloak, wrapping it over his head. With his body concealed and his posture hunched, he looked almost human.

“My kin, please wait a little longer.”

The troll, covered by the waterproof sheet, quickly moved towards the human city. Soon, his figure began to fade into the thick fog.

* * *

“Lights out! Lights out!”

The night watchmen were shouting as they patrolled the streets. In the port city of Kaltizan, even after sunset, there were still a considerable number of people moving about, so oil street lamps were installed on the main roads. At midnight, the street lamps were extinguished to save oil.

Siris sighed as she looked out the window at the darkening outside.

“Haah, Lord Repenhardt. When is that troll named Attila going to show up?”

She was currently gazing at the southern branch building of Santana’s Tears beyond the window. That massive three-story mansion stood directly across the main street from the Waystone Inn where they were staying, and standing by the second-floor window gave her a clear view of most of the scenery.

Sillan, sitting at the table opposite her, spoke with a bored expression.

“No matter how much we watch, nothing seems to be happening… Are you sure about this information?”

Repenhardt clicked his tongue and scratched his head.

“Uhm, it’s definitely supposed to be today, probably… maybe?”

At his strangely uncertain voice, Tassid and Russ chuckled dryly. Tassid leaned over and whispered to Russ.

‘It seems our benefactor isn’t too confident this time, huh?’

‘Right? The guy who always acts like he knows everything about the world.’

“Hey, I can hear you.”

At Repenhardt’s grumpy voice, the two flinched and tried to look nonchalant. Repenhardt clicked his tongue again as he watched Russ and Tassid, who got along so well.

‘Sigh, it’s already the third day of this, no wonder they’re getting bored…’

A week ago, after hearing news about Attila, Repenhardt immediately took his companions and left the Duchy of Antares. Of course, he only told the people at the White Palace that he was going on an estate inspection. After realizing that Teslon was targeting him, he no longer revealed his whereabouts to just anyone as he used to.

The Kingdom of Hallain was located near the Spelrat Desert, the homeland of the Danhaim tribe, so they could quickly move through the Tidaen Daiman Portal. In four days, Repenhardt’s party arrived in Kaltizan, the city closest to where rumors of the Ivory Tusk had spread. After that, they booked an inn near the Alchemist Guild and continued waiting for Attila to appear.

The problem was that even Repenhardt didn’t know when Attila would show up. So, for three days, they had to stay cooped up in the inn room, watching the mansion all night and sleeping during the day.

Repenhardt opened his mouth, trying to soothe his companions.

“I’m sorry, but please bear with it a little longer. Attila’s presence is essential to gaining the trust of the trolls.”

Nodding, Siris resumed her sharp-eyed surveillance of the mansion. Russ unfolded the map of Kaltizan and reviewed their plan.

“So, once that troll, Attila, shows up, Sillan and I will head to the city gate to prepare for a quick exit while Tassid and Siris move with you, right?”

“Yes. From Attila’s perspective, seeing an orc or an elf, who are also oppressed, will make it easier to communicate than seeing humans.”

The plan was simple: as soon as Attila appeared, they would rush to the mansion to help rescue the troll, then quickly escape the city together.

Looking over Russ’s shoulder at the map, Tassid suddenly asked, “But benefactor, how do you plan to convince that troll?”

They had to perform the Ritual of Hotu to gain the trust of the orcs. It was unlikely that a troll would easily trust a human like Repenhardt. If they did meet Attila, it would likely be in the middle of a fight, and there was concern whether they could even communicate with the troll in such an excited state.

“Honestly, all I can do is try my best to persuade him. But since I speak Trollish and will have Tassid and Siris with me, I’m sure our sincerity will get through once we talk calmly.”

It might sound overly optimistic, but Repenhardt had confidence in his plan.

Attila, despite his hatred for humans, maintained a wise and calm demeanor, ensuring that he never harmed innocent beings. If they helped in his rescue, Attila would be cautious but not openly hostile. Given some time for a conversation, Repenhardt believed that Attila’s insight would recognize his sincerity.

“Ah, but we need Attila to show up first for any of this to matter…”

Repenhardt sighed and flopped onto the bed. Siris, still looking out the window, grumbled.

“By the way, why is the fog so thick tonight? It makes it hard to keep watch…”

* * *

A thick night fog enveloped the large three-story mansion.

Three guards patrolled along the high wall surrounding the mansion, moving in a group.

As they vigilantly walked along the wall, something suddenly dropped right above them.

“Hyaah!”

A large shadow fell upon one of the guards, who collapsed without uttering a scream, blood spurting from his mouth. The other guards, startled, raised their spears towards the unidentified shadow.

“What, what is this?”

It was unbelievable. This wall was lined with all sorts of trap magic circles that triggered lightning and fire in the event of an intruder. Yet, that shadow had definitely infiltrated the mansion grounds, and none of the magic circles had activated.

The shadow straightened up, revealing itself. Under the moonlight, the guards could clearly see the blue body, and they screamed in shock.

“Eek?”

“A troll? Why is a troll here?”

As mere guards, they had no information about the Ivory Tusk. Encountering a monster in the middle of the city was something they never expected, and they were momentarily paralyzed with fear.

In the next instant, Attila’s hands swung left and right, severing the guards’ necks. Blood spurted as two heads flew into the air.

Thud!

Amidst the pouring blood, Attila dashed forward.

‘Quick and decisive!’

No matter how stealthy he was, killing the guards would soon alert others. He had to hurry. Being surrounded by humans in an open space would be troublesome. Fighting within complex structures was more efficient.

The blue troll sprinted across the garden at an astonishing speed under the moonlight. Due to the shamanic power surrounding his body, none of the numerous defensive spells were triggered.

Running towards the mansion’s entrance, Attila let out a strange cry.

“Hororororo…”

The firmly locked front door unlocked by itself and swung open. As Attila rushed inside, a guard on duty widened his eyes in horror.

“Ugh? What is this?”

That became his final words. Attila’s right hand lightly twisted the guard’s neck, killing him instantly without a sound. Just then, two armored men patrolling the mansion’s hallway saw the scene and shouted.

“Gasp!”

“It’s the Ivory Tusk!”

Unlike the ordinary guards, these were trained warriors from the guild. Naturally, they were aware of the Ivory Tusk.

One of the men quickly pulled something from his coat and threw it to the floor.

Boom!

Smoke rose with a loud explosion. It was a signal flare.

Now the entire mansion would be alerted to the intruder. Thanks to their preparedness, the sound of hurried footsteps soon echoed through the hallways.

Attila clicked his tongue.

“Tch, so I’ve been discovered.”

However, he wasn’t too disappointed. Just infiltrating the mansion had already achieved his purpose.

“Come forth! You vile humans!”

Attila raised his arms and shouted. Of course, he shouted in Trollish, which sounded like a savage roar to the humans.

“Capture that monster!”

“A reward of a thousand gold coins awaits the one who takes the monster’s head!”

“Uwaaah!”

Overcome by both greed and fear, the guild warriors drew their spears and swords and charged at Attila.