53 - Troll

“Bromsley, who selected this carriage?” Lady Draco said it in a casual tone as she crossed her legs, her black cloudweave robes outlining their slenderness.
“It’s Master Bromsley,” Teagen Bromsley corrected her, leading the lady to raise an eyebrow as her companion snorted.
“I believe you hurt his feelings, Ishta.” Her brother crooned from his seated position beside Teagen. “You should address Master Bromsley by his title first; otherwise, you poke at his insecurity and inherent sense of inadequacy.”
Bromsley regarded the dark-haired boy coldly, which only made his grin widen, his eyes sparking with the inherent mean-spiritedness all the Draco children possessed.
“Ah, my mistake.” Ishta Draco said, finger stroking her chalice. “Master Bromsley, please tell me who was stupid enough to select this carriage with unbalanced wheels and unpolished blinds for our procession today.”
Master Bromsley so badly wanted to ignore her question. He had already endured enough insults on this trip, and he didn’t need any more.
However, he knew that they would only keep asking in increasingly aggravating ways if he ignored them. “It was the only carriage available on such short notice.”
“In other words, you chose it?”
“Yes.”
The siblings laughed, and the cruel lilt of their tone struck at something within him.
He raised his chin. He was nearly a hundred years old, but their laughter transported him back to his collegiate days, when he’d been the lesser of the Nobles and the butt of the jokes.
With time, he’d proven them wrong. He’d become a Master, yet he was still not one with a good enough bloodline to oppose these twins, who were only adepts from a noble ascendant house, one that had been tarnished by time and rumors.
Even worse, they were part of a demonic sect, a sect feared by all.
He wanted to tell them exactly what he thought of them and their mean-spirited taunts, but it wouldn’t matter unless he could overpower them, and while he was sure he could, it wouldn’t serve him in the long run.
It might backfire spectacularly, actually.
He remained silent and instead stared out the window. The movement of light and colors in the sky marked the festival. They were almost at the market now, by the sound of it. Only ten minutes left to the temple, and after ten minutes at the temple, he would return them to their ship, and he would be rid of them for good.
He counted down the seconds.
“Ugh, why are they so loud?” Lord Draco said.
“You know it’s going to be even louder in the temple,” his sister responded. “They’ll be banging those awful drums.”
“Will the Archmage Yseult be there?”
“You mean our cousin?”
“You know he hates to be called that.”
“He does, that’s why I remind him as often as possible.”
They laughed at their own jokes, and Teagan tried his hardest to drown them out by focusing on the other person in the carriage, the one trying so hard to make herself invisible and unnoticeable to the pair.
She occupied less than a quarter of the bench she shared with Lady Draco, and though she was slender, it must have taken a lot of effort and discomfort to ensure that she didn’t so much as share the same air with Lady Draco’s extravagant robes.
She was in plain black robes herself, and was so silent that he sometimes wondered if she breathed, or moved, or did anything except sit there with her eyes cast down at her folded hands.
The Lady brought the chalice of cold wine to her lips, and some of the condensation dripped onto her shoes. That was when the maid finally moved. She fell to her knees instantly, using her sleeve to wipe the droplet of water off before it could soak in.
Lady Draco didn’t seem to notice, putting her drink down and staring out the window.
Teagan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. They were all brats, the children of the demonic sect.
Except for the maid, perhaps. She was technically Lady Draco’s older sister, but she was born with tragically weak cores, and weakness was something the sect reviled.
Even just on this short trip, he’d gotten a hint of how much insult she faced from her mistress. The girl looked about the same age as Ishta and had the same coloring, but from her behaviour, no one would know they were related.
She did not have a shred of power or confidence. He felt sorry for her, but there was nothing he could do about it.
He just wanted this all to be over.
And then he heard the roar.

---

As Arielle walked out, ignoring the shocked shouting behind her. She instantly checked the troll’s preliminary stats:
Creature Type: Troll Type A
Level: 610
Hmm. So less than the dragon, however, that was only a measure of how much power it had, and how much damage it could potentially cause, not how hard it would be to subdue.
In creatures and clans, they’d learned that the level on the stat screen was sort of a complex measure of the threat level ofa creature, as a factor of others in its species and also of every other species in the world.
It accounted for more offensive than defensive strength, and even though those things tended to be tied together, they weren’t always the same.
Not to mention that Heedy hadn’t really been trying to kill her, but this troll probably would be, so she had to be on the lookout for that as well.
She searched her mind for everything she knew about trolls from storybooks, and creatures and clans. They were incredibly durable. They had tough skin that was impervious to most blades; they were also really strong and healed quickly. Some of the smaller ones were vulnerable to fire, but the bigger ones were not,
She didn’t know what Type A meant, but that likely wouldn’t change her approach much.
Her best bet would be to try to burn it, and failing that, somehow render him unconscious rather than trying to kill him.
Currently, the troll wasn’t paying much attention to her. It was bellowing, snarling, its only purpose seeming to be to create as much destruction as possible. It overturned a cart, drove its mallet into the brick wall of one of the buildings, and left a dent in it when it pulled away. It kicked up a cloud of dust as it ran, its feet breaking the pavement.
Then suddenly it paused.
Its head reared as it sniffed the air, before its eyes zeroed in on her.
“Argh!” It screamed.
Too loud, Arielle thought.
As it bolted at her, she remained in place, calmly assessing the situation.
It needed to smell to know that I was here, Arielle thought as she watched it approach. So it likely can’t see too well. Its attacks will probably be less accurate as a result, so I can simply wait for it to get close before I dodge.
Arielle sent a bolt of fire at it, but it didn’t do any damage.
She also conjured [Mass Anchor]. She didn’t think anyone here would recognize the spell, since she didn’t say its name, and no one else could see orbs and tell what signature it had.
The orbs collated in space, and she ran the calculations, accounting for their different masses, estimating the troll’s size to be about twelve times hers.
She adjusted the mass anchor so that it was twelve times heavier on one side than the other.
Then she targeted and aimed for the middle of its chest.
Right as the troll was about to reach her, it went flying.
It took almost no effort on her end, which she guessed was the beauty of [Mass Anchor]. With spells like [Levitate] and even [Telekinesis], the weight of the object mattered, and heavier objects required more focus to move and control, recruiting more Luxa and Calor.
However, with [Mass Anchor], once the weight difference was accounted for in the main spell form, it didn’t matter how heavy whatever she was repelling was, because it would instantly become as light as it needed to be.
The troll smashed into one of the buildings far away, cratering into it. Arielle winced.

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That was more damage than she was hoping to cause. She’d assumed the building would be more reinforced than that.
I have to be careful, she thought as the troll got back to its feet, shaking the blow off as if it had been nothing but a love tap. I don’t want to destroy the town while trying to save it. What I need is a neat, decisive attack that will eliminate the threat with minimal collateral damage.
The troll charged at her again, splitting her eardrums with its angry cry.
This time, she sent [Cross Dissolve] and [Air Slice] at it. Both spells lacerated skin, green pus spurting out of its wound, but that didn’t slow down its advance, nor did it stop the casual destruction it wrought by bumping into things and crushing them under its big feet.
She did it a few more times, slashing at it from different angles, but that only seemed to make it angrier.
She blocked its attack with [Air Shield], the sound of the collision reverberating across the air.
Then she dodged the follow-up with [Blink], backing up several steps.
Arielle was in a pickle. The issue was that the spells that would kill it would likely come with a [Hidden Ability] marker. So she had to take it down with apprentice and adept spells, which were all minimal damage and would essentially take some time before they annihilated it.
More time meant more destruction.
Unless she could somehow suffocate it.
Or him. It looked like a him.
[Air Control], she thought when he reached her again, and the air particles stopped his advance, with one foot trapped in the air.
He trembled as he fought the air particles wrapping themselves around him tightly. Arielle had to increase her focus to keep him where he was.
This was much harder than it had been with Anne, so hard that she instantly gave up on it and used [Blink] to get her out of the way in time for his mallet.
Bang!
Debris jumped into the air as he shattered the ground she’d been standing on a half second ago.
He sniffed the air again before locating her. The wounds on his chest were already healing. She would never be able to take him down with even a million of those shallow stabs.
Could she possibly make one deep enough to sever his neck?
Arielle had never killed a creature before, but that might be the only way to stop this thing. But it would have to be a clean swipe, something he would have no hope of recovering from.
She thought about Telip’s void sword and how it had sliced through lightning with ease. Something like that would work for her, but there were two problems wth that. He’d used runes to stabilize it, and it might be a Master-tier spell. Telip could have a Hidden Ability marker for all she knew.
But maybe she could mimic something like that.
What if she packed on more Vacu at the edges of [Air Slice], balancing it out with more Calor for force? Would that work?
She would have to be careful not to add too much to increase the magnitude and elevate it into a Master tier. But if she increased it only a little, it would certainly cause more damage to the troll.
She tried it for her next attack, dodging his blow and sending [Air Slice] at his neck.
It cut deep, a pained cry finally falling from his lips.
He stopped and clutched his neck, roared from the agony as she did it again.
It hit a different line, creating a separate wound, as the creature glared at her.
But when he moved his hand, the first wound was almost completely healed
Darn.
Did trolls really heal that fast?
In that case, next time, she would need to go bigger, with more void.
Or…
What if…she didn’t necessarily go bigger?
What if she went smaller instead?
What if she packed a compact void around the air, in a circle rather than straight lines, and concentrated it only at the part of his throat that controlled his airway, destroying that, and ensuring it stayed destroyed until he died?
That would be an easier and cleaner way to kill him, wouldn’t it?
Arielle calculated as she avoided the troll’s wide swings with ease. She was still calm, despite his size and girth, and the pure rage contorting his features. Maybe it was because she’d already faced a dragon, and this was statistically weaker than the dragon. She wasn’t worried about him hurting her, only about him destroying property.
As he came at her again and again, she swept left, back, and to the side, forming the shape in her mind.
“So if I carry this one and link it with that,” she murmured, tracing the air with her fingers, ducking to avoid a headshot.“That should give me a smaller but more powerful structure because of the calor right? And should I double bond-luxa for better control?”
The troll only responded with a snarl.
She wished she could properly test out the arithmetic on a scroll, but she hadn’t come with one.
However, she’d always been good at mental calculation anyway, tuning out the distant screaming, the roaring, dodging the increasingly angry and violent attacks, and simply going until she got it.
Then she pointed her finger at his neck, this time, making a small ball of void with enough power to pierce through his hard skin.
Then she shot.
It happened so fast.
The only warning was a slight whizz in the air as the troll jerked to a stop, mid-attack, with his mallet still raised.
The eyes were wide, eyeballs still moving in panic, as though it had only just realized what had happened.
Then a thick, choking, gargling sound, as he slapped his huge paw on his neck, trying to plug the hole.
It didn’t help.
It wasn’t healing in time because Arielle kept the void air circle in there, cutting through any tendons and ligaments that attempted to form, preventing his airways from getting any air.
She stepped aside and saw the pain reflected in his gaze as he fell to his knees.
A shadow of guilt pierced her chest.
“Sorry,” she said as his upper body toppled and his head slammed on the ground, creating an even bigger dent with his large body.
Finally, the life drained from his eyes.
She stared down at the creature. She didn’t know how to feel.
She’d just killed something for the first time.
She swallowed and analyzed her emotions. She felt…almost nothing. No, that wasn’t true.
What she felt wasn’t strong enough to be called sorrow or remorse, but she did feel bad for the creature’s suffering, even though it had been causing a mess. She felt bad for wasting a life, and causing even more of a mess.
But she didn’t feel bad that it was dead, because if it had remained alive, it would have kept destroying and might have hurt someone.
But, he was someone, too, maybe?
“Sorry,” she said again. She wondered if, given a choice to do it all over again, she would subdue it rather than kill it. Probably not. It didn’t look like it could be reasoned with.
Was this how her brother felt when he killed bogworms? Or Celie when she killed…whoever it was that she killed.
She might ask them later and work through her feelings then.
“That took me a lot longer than I thought it would,” she murmured. Almost five minutes. “Someone is going to have to clean this mess.”
The troll had caused a lot of destruction, and its body smelled really bad, like urine and acid.
She would help reconstruct the broken buildings with Elric’s spell, but that would get her an instant marker, and it would also risk her identity if news of this got out.
Oh well.
She turned back to the bank, about to walk in, when she saw the stunned faces pressed there, including those of the bank teller and the manager. None of them moved, though they started when she looked at them.
She smiled.
The manager had seen her defeat the troll.
Good.
She wondered if that was enough to impress him and prove to him that she was a high-value mercenary and deserved to have an account there. Of course, she hadn’t used any high-level skills, but her casting speed and focus were really high, and she’d defeated a level 600 troll, so that would be reason enough for someone to hire her. Oh, and she’d done it wandless, which was even more impressive. Right?
Or were level 600 trolls not that powerful? Could an average adept mage take them down?
She had no clue.
She waved lightly at them, but no one waved back. They just stared. She was concerned.
Was that a good thing or a bad thing?
They were soon interrupted by another familiar roar in the distance.
Arielle’s head snapped back. Another troll?
The roar was echoed by at least two more, and she wondered just how many of them were there.
Hmmm….she might as well take care of them while she was at it, so that the town could get back to its festival.
If her current feats hadn’t impressed the bank manager yet, then that likely would do the trick.

---

Inara, the maid, was frozen in her seat as she had been for the past few minutes, as she watched Master Bromsley battle the three giant trolls outside. They were hideous things, more awful than even some demons that she’d seen in her lifetime. She clutched the seat, fear making her breath fast and noisy, even though she’d mastered the art of breathing silently.
“And he calls himself a Master.” Young Lord Muwatali mocked as he reclined in his seat. “How long will it take him to get rid of three simple trolls?”
The trolls looked anything but simple. They were large, angry, and kept coming at the Master no matter how many times he sent them back.
Trolls were very hard to kill, and these seemed harder than most.
He was holding them off, beating them with blades made out of fire and ice, but it wasn’t enough, and they were advancing.
“Leave!” Master Bromsley screamed at the carriage. “I’ll keep them distracted.”
“Okay,” Lord Muwatali said, and without a second thought, he pushed a button, and the self-driven carriage began pulling forward.
“Wait.” The words tore out of Inara’s throat before she could stop them.
The siblings stopped the carriage and turned to her, and she nearly lost her nerve. She hated drawing their attention to herself, hated them remembering she even existed. She’d never dared make a suggestion before, but Master Bromsley…he had been kind to her. He’d offered her water at the start of the trip, and he hadn’t let his gaze skip over her when he’d talked. He even used her name, rather than just calling her a maid.
He had treated her like she was something more than a shame to her family.
She didn’t want him to die.
“Perhaps we can wait a few more minutes.” Or one of you could help him.
“She’s right,” Ishta said, shocking both of them. “Let’s wait.”
Inara was surprised.
She’d made the offer, but she didn’t expect Lady Ishta to take it.
Then the Lady held Inara’s gaze and took her handkerchief from her sleeve, extending it out of the window.
She dropped it.
“Oops,” she said. “Do you mind going out to pick that up for me?”
That was when Inara realized her mistake.
She swallowed and stammered. “Right now?”
“Yes. That handkerchief is my favorite one.”
“O…okay.” She slowly rose and stepped out through the doors, her bones shaking. I don’t want to do this. Please don’t make me do this.
But no one called her back. Only Lord Muwatali’s chuckling followed her.
She convinced herself that it would be easy.
The handkerchief couldn’t have gotten very far. It was on the other side of the carriage, away from the monster fight, so if she was careful, all she had to do was retrieve it and get back inside to safety.
The alternative to not getting it would likely be worse.
“Inara, what are you doing?” Master Bromsley barked as she got out of the carriage and circled to the other side.
“Sorry,” she said as she hurried to the handkerchief. “I’ll be quick.”
Just as she reached it, the wind blew it a distance away.
She swallowed and edged for it again.
Just then, a shadow fell over her.
Her heart stopped.
She slowly turned up, her brain ceasing function as she looked up at the giant thing looming in the skies.
It brought down its mallet.