Now alone, Akimitsu resumed his pursuit of the unicorn. With each passing second, the distance between the man and the creature lessened. But the deeper he went into the forest, the more he lost his way. So focused was he on his target that he didn't realize he'd gone too far to find his way back.
Suddenly, the unicorn stopped in a clearing. The atmosphere there was peculiar, though Akimitsu didn't notice it immediately. He believed the animal had tired of fleeing and had finally allowed itself to be caught by the herdsman. With a victorious smile, he stepped into the clearing. However, after only a few paces, he abruptly halted: an unsettling feeling swept over him. He looked around and noticed the absence of animals and vegetation. What he did see were figures made of broken branches – crude voodoo dolls hanging by long vines. The ground was also littered with droppings. While such details might have seemed trivial to an average passerby, Akimitsu's deep knowledge of animals allowed him to discern their origins at a glance. Kneeling to inspect more closely, he muttered:
"These aren't human droppings… and they're not from any animal either, so…"
He turned his gaze back to the unicorn and noticed anxiety in its demeanor. The trees cast ominous shadows, and even the sun seemed unable to pierce through their thick canopy. As he looked at the creature again, he realized it was trying to communicate with him. Yes, the unicorn was trying to convey something, but his confused mind couldn't grasp it. Closing his eyes for a moment to concentrate… No, it wasn't just anxiety – it was fear! The unicorn was terrified! It wasn't pausing to let him approach but rather because it had sensed an imminent danger.
Sweat beads formed on Akimitsu's brow. He wavered slightly. Suddenly, the animal neighed sharply, reared up, and bolted into the woods. It vanished into the shadows. Akimitsu's blood ran cold, and all his senses sharpened. His eyes darted around, searching for an unseen foe. A foul, unbearable stench filled his nostrils. The enemy was close. He strained to pick up any sound, noticing the strange rustle of leaves, snapping branches, and guttural murmurs. Guttural murmurs? The enemy was here. An instant later, he spotted a shadow flitting between branches. What was it?
He grabbed his staff from his back to defend against an attack. A whistling sound came from behind, and he turned swiftly, spinning his weapon just in time to block a volley of arrows. They shattered on impact and fell harmlessly to the ground. With his staff firmly in hand, he spun around like a weather vane. The giant was unsure what to expect. Suddenly, a piercing war cry broke the tension. His blood froze again as he gaped at the scene before him: a horde of trolls burst from the woods!
The creatures charged like a swarm of killer ants! Small in stature but with grotesquely large, pumpkin-shaped heads, bulbous eyes, potato noses, and twisted, wide mouths—they looked like monstrous beings straight out of hell. Their muscular, stocky bodies clad in animal pelts only added to their surreal, savage appearance. They came bearing 'gifts' of all kinds: axes, spears, swords, flails, and maces – an arsenal meant for defeating a single man. Their hate-filled, maddened expressions made it clear that Akimitsu was far from welcome, that he had made a grave mistake in setting foot on their territory.
Unfortunately, he realized this too late. Yet, he resolved not to let them continue their onslaught unchallenged. Negotiating for a peaceful retreat wasn't an option; their vicious looks and aggressive posture didn't allow for it. The mere thought of reasoning with such beasts was laughable.
Filled with defiance and determination, he raised his long, heavy staff into the sunlight and brought it down on the nearest troll, crushing its skull. Then, with a sweeping motion, he knocked back the first wave of attackers. The sight of their fallen comrade momentarily startled the trolls, but their rage soon surged again, and they renewed their attack. The blows from the herdsman were powerful beyond belief. His staff rose and fell amid screams and bone-crunching sounds, over and over. The ground around him became slick with blood, strewn with severed limbs and shattered skulls. Many fell under his relentless strikes.
However, the relentless effort began to take its toll on Akimitsu, and the trolls were seemingly endless. The bodies piled up around him, hampering his movements. In a fight where mobility was life, staying still meant certain death – something Akimitsu overlooked, though the trolls, with their primitive intellect, hadn't yet exploited this advantage... until now. Standing atop the mounds of corpses, he had managed to remain untouched, his near-three-meter stature granting him an exceptional reach with his staff.
Yet, what he feared finally happened. A troll managed to drive a sword into his leg. He roared in pain, killing the troll almost instantly. But he knew he couldn't pause even for a moment; hesitating would mean a swift and brutal death. Paradoxically, the injury spurred an adrenaline rush that pushed him to fight harder and escape the surrounding mass of bodies that threatened to engulf him. Twisting his staff in one hand, he spun like a massive top, sweeping away both the living and the dead trolls around him. Then he ran, swinging his weapon with abandon, bounding across the clearing like a gazelle escaping a pack of hyenas. Just as he was about to exit it, he remembered he didn't know the way back. To return to the Coral with an injured leg and a horde of trolls chasing him was a dream born of desperation rather than any real hope.
In a split-second hesitation, a troll's thrown axe embedded itself in his back. His scream echoed through the forest, reverberating to its very edge.
He fell to the ground, his staff slipping a few meters away, but he quickly got back up before his assailants could reach him to finish him off. Unfortunately, his weapon was too far to grab, and the trolls were too close. Akimitsu faced them without fear and unleashed one of his secret techniques. He raised both hands to the sky and brought them down forcefully to the earth. The impact made the ground tremble for several seconds. Meanwhile, he managed to grab his staff and took advantage of his enemies' loss of balance to shatter the skulls of a dozen trolls before turning toward the direction where the unicorn had disappeared.
Out of the initial hundred trolls, about sixty lay on the ground. The remaining survivors ran after the herdsman. One of them let out a piercing cry before Akimitsu reached the trees – it was a call for reinforcements! Only moments later, hundreds more trolls surged forward, cutting off the giant from both sides. As he ran, he fought fiercely, sweeping away the first waves of attackers with horizontal strikes. He was slowed in his progress, and the trolls pursuing him caught up in the blink of an eye. He struggled to face them all and suffered numerous wounds on his body.
He fought relentlessly with uncommon fury and displayed an admirable tenacity. However, although his courage did not waver, he sensed his end was near as the stream of trolls seemed endless. For the first time in his life, despite often facing perilous situations, he felt an awful sensation: the fear of dying. As seconds passed and blows landed, the grim certainty of his fate enveloped him. He feared being knocked out and tortured to death or cooked alive afterward... Suddenly, a mace struck him on the head. He was dazed, but the pain of axes and swords cutting into his flesh pulled him out of his stupor. His body was suddenly surrounded by a bright light; the trolls were blinded. He spun his staff, smashing all those around him and hurling them violently into their comrades. The move made him unleash a powerful, superhuman cry.
"Wouoh!"
He struck the ground with all his might using his weapon. The light surrounding him spread forward in a wave resembling a giant tidal surge. It obliterated everything – and especially the newly arrived trolls – in its path. Blood splattered in every direction, limbs were scattered, and the deafening noise barely covered the cries of pain and death.
Akimitsu took advantage of the ensuing chaos to run for his life. He carved a path between the trees, glancing back occasionally to check the trolls' progress. He sprinted at full speed, gasping for breath. The previous attack had exhausted him more than the blood loss. The cool shade provided by the canopy helped him maintain some composure. His heart raced, blood thudded in his temples, and streams of sweat ran down his body.
He dreaded collapsing in the forest with hordes of trolls on his heels. When he looked back once more, he saw many of them still chasing him. He stopped and struck the ground with both hands as hard as he could. The ground shook enough to unbalance an elephant: some trolls stumbled, others crashed into trees, and some fell from branches. Akimitsu resumed his frenzied run, but after about ten minutes, he slowed to catch his breath. He could not keep going at that pace. He stopped to look back, but there was no trace of trolls. He walked a bit further and entered a new clearing, also strange because it was devoid of animal life.
He held no illusions about what was going to happen. He had lost too much blood, and it kept flowing. Panting, he staggered. His vision blurred. He sat in the shade of a tree, leaning against it in pain. He glanced at the wounds that covered his body like craters on the moon, then lifted his eyes to the unyielding azure sky before drifting into a deep sleep.
When he regained consciousness, the sun was about to set. He had slept for countless hours but could not say exactly how many. Although the blood from his wounds had stopped flowing, he was still very weak. Despite this, the hope of finding the unicorn still fueled him. So, he decided to stand up with the help of his staff; the effort was so painful that he could not suppress a cry of agony. Suddenly, he heard footsteps followed by the rustling of leaves coming from the thickets. He strained to listen and instinctively turned his eyes toward the source of the sound. Had the trolls found him again? It would make sense, as he was still on their territory, which they must know like the back of their hands. His doubt quickly faded, for he did not feel the murderous intent he had sensed before. The atmosphere was not filled with hatred and aggression as it had been during his first encounter with them. No, this time, the ambiance was calm, even soothing.
His surprise was great when what he initially thought was a troll turned out to be the unicorn, crossing the clearing at a leisurely pace! He followed it laboriously, using his staff for support. It led him to another clearing close to the first, where, to his astonishment, a magnificent, pure white, winged horse was grazing peacefully in front of its den. It was Pegasus! Akimitsu could not believe his eyes. He blessed God for turning his glimmer of hope into a source of joy. He slowly approached the creature. The unicorn, meanwhile, disappeared into the den as if nothing had happened. The horse locked its blue eyes with those of its visitor, reading his intentions. After ensuring the man's sincerity, Pegasus turned its head as if to signal its willingness to be taken. The herdsman examined it in awe, fascinated. He stroked its neck and marveled at the animal's silky, pristine coat; it shone so brightly it seemed to glitter among the trees like a lone diamond surrounded by emeralds.
The celestial creature knelt, filling Akimitsu with delight. He climbed onto its back with the help of his staff, which he then secured. The effort, and the mere act of contracting his muscles, reopened some of his wounds. No matter, he thought; the beast was finally tamed.
"Take me... take me to the Coral!"
Pegasus, besides its ability to fly, knew the two kingdoms by heart and understood human language perfectly. It trotted into the clearing, then broke into a gallop, cutting through the wind, flapping its wings to end its run with a majestic takeoff. What a fantastic sensation! thought the herdsman. He felt like he was dreaming, he who, only hours before, believed he would end up in a cooking pot. What a triumph! Not only had he escaped alive from his fierce battle with the brutes of the Arubi Forest, but as if surviving such an ordeal merited more than just self-satisfaction, he now possessed the magnificent winged steed that legend claimed was untouchable.
From his lofty, airborne perch, Akimitsu gazed at the sun setting in the distant sea while, further east, the first stars began to speckle the Arcadian sky. Relieved, exhausted, and elated by the success of his mission, he leaned on the muscular neck of the creature and fell asleep, the feeling of a job well done filling his mind.