Chapter 27: Dungeon (1)
A worn-out scabbard was lodged in the center of the cave. Its leather was torn and dull, proof that it had served its purpose for years before someone hid it here.
"Not a sword?" Blake muttered, sounding a bit disappointed. The scene reminded him of the famous folktale about a legendary blade embedded in stone, waiting for a chosen one to draw it. But here, it was only a scabbard.
Because sheaths in fantasy worlds often had multiple uses, Blake wasn't about to dismiss this one. It might grant buffs or even bestow a skill. He approached it carefully, with Beatrix keeping watch behind him and Sol's golden eyes fixed on the scabbard. Sol was more curious than anyone—so curious he nearly rolled right over to it. Since Sol was immortal, Blake felt less concern, but he still held him back.
Finally, Blake stood before the object, which was half-buried in the ground. Trying to pull it out or check its stats triggered a trap.
Suddenly, the cave shook.
"Well, we expected this," Blake said, prompting Sol to glance around anxiously. Although it felt like the entire cavern was trembling, the vibration came from just one spot. Blake focused on a massive figure etched into the rocky wall, now peeling itself free with thunderous force.
He folded his arms, prepared to fight, and waited for his foe to emerge. Beatrix considered attacking while it was still awakening, but Blake raised a hand to stop her before she could nock an arrow.
A thick leg stepped forward, then another, each one shaking the cave. Once the colossal figure had fully peeled away from the wall, Blake recognized it as a stone troll. Stooped under the low ceiling, it groaned and lowered its head, scratching its bald scalp. Its huge fingers produced a shrill sound, like nails on a chalkboard.
It filled about a third of the cave's height and width, wielding a club large enough to be a pillar in this hidden chamber. Like most trolls, it was hideous, although whoever carved its form had real talent—replicating every gruesome detail so accurately was no small feat.
"An… enemy… must… die…" it rumbled.
Blake smirked. "Think you can keep me entertained?"
< The Stone Troll (Rare), Lv. 10 HP: 1499/1499, MP: – >
"I sure hope so, because I'm starving for a fight!" Blake shouted, instantly summoning his gear and gripping his katana's hilt.
He shifted into the stance that reminded Beatrix of the final moments of their duel, when he extended his Prideful Step's range and even vaulted over her. Now he repeated that feat, charging the troll and slashing at its thick leg.
A swift, precise strike ripped through its rock-like flesh. Without hesitation, Blake followed up with two more cuts.
[-109 HP!]
[-86 HP!]
[-94 HP!]
His first attack used Crescent Pride, maximizing his damage and refunding the skill's mana cost. The subsequent hits barely chipped away at the troll's massive defenses. The fact Blake could wound it at all spoke to how well-forged his first katana was.
Finally noticing the pest at its feet, the troll swung wildly, hitting nothing—Blake had already sidestepped to its blind spot, circling for a better angle of attack. Meanwhile, Beatrix fired three arrows into the gash Blake had opened, drawing a pained roar from the troll.
In retaliation, it slammed its club into the cave floor, sending tremors through the ground and forcing Beatrix to leap aside. She lost her footing but remained unharmed. Seizing the opportunity, Blake slashed the troll's other calf.
Once again, it countered with a club smash, striking the ground and raising earthen spikes in every direction. At such close range, Blake had no time to dodge. He braced himself and took the blow head-on, hurtling backward.
'Next time, I'll hide under the troll,' he thought with a smirk.
Landing on his feet, he cracked his neck and gave his familiar the next order. "We'll juggle its attention. When it's about to do that vertical smash again, plant yourself right in front of the scabbard."
Beatrix nodded. Her master intended for the troll's own attack to free the scabbard. A clever plan indeed.