Chapter 28: Dungeon (2)
As the battle raged on, the troll managed to take a few steps forward. Each movement pained it so much that it groaned every time. The tiny ant wielding a katana focused on its legs, while his archer widened those wounds and piled on the pressure. Clearly, the two had plenty of experience fighting hulking opponents—trolls included.
In truth, Blake orchestrated the fight, and Beatrix executed it flawlessly, covering him at each turn. He might have been weak at plotting large-scale strategy, but once on the battlefield, he was the tactical and adaptation genius envied by many beta testers.
The katana-wielding "ant" continued dancing around the troll's legs, neutralizing the same blows that had sent him flying before. The monster slammed its club into the ground again, raising earthen spikes that had been so effective last time.
This time, Blake knew the pattern by heart. He darted under the troll well before its weapon collided with the earth. Believing the katana pest was out of commission, the troll fixed its sculpted gaze on the archer. She stared right back, loosing arrow after arrow.
Spikes shielded the troll's legs, making it seem like her shots were pointless. Nothing could have been further from the truth. Beatrix's arrows pierced the spikes, then reappeared, continuing along their original paths to sink deep into the troll's wounds. It was her bow's second skill—allowing her dark arrows to become intangible shadows that passed through everything but light.
The troll howled in agony. In a rage, it lifted its club toward the ceiling, then slammed it down—precisely the attack Beatrix had been waiting for. It barreled straight at her, rending the earth and scattering debris everywhere. Nothing could stop its rampage… which was exactly what Beatrix and Blake had planned.
As soon as Beatrix leaped aside, the impact struck the scabbard, sending it spinning overhead. Showcasing her athletic prowess, she sprinted forward and jumped high, snatching the item before it hit the ground. Holding her prize aloft, she struck a triumphant pose.
While her success earned a smirk from Blake, the troll roared in reply. It lurched forward, then suddenly sank to one knee. Beneath its massive frame, Blake rapidly slashed at its calf, prying the wounds wider and wider. His black eyes glinted as multiple Crescent Cuts swirled around him, stacking relentlessly and hacking away like a madman.
Though his intention was only to deepen the wounds, he ended up doing more damage than expected. The troll toppled, pinned to the ground.
Blake slipped out from under the creature, sprinting toward Beatrix. Spotting his movement, the troll leaned in, attempting to swat him like a fly. But Blake sensed the danger and sprang ahead like a puma, rolling across the ground as the cave floor shook behind him.
Standing up, he glanced over his shoulder and sneered. Above him, Sol shook the dust off his tiny body and whined, his eyes shining while the troll glared at them helplessly.
Blake rejoined Beatrix, who extended the scabbard on her open palms. He took it and tucked it into his inventory. "Well done."
Off to the side, the troll howled, its sole purpose seemingly to guard the scabbard or serve as the final trial for anyone who discovered it. Now that it had lost a leg, it could barely move in this cavern, much less fight effectively.
Blake chuckled. "One last formality. Let's finish this monster and level up."
Beatrix nodded, her bow shifting into a spear. Sol cooed happily. Two "ants"—one sporting a golden apple on his head—climbed atop the troll and delivered merciless blows to its vulnerable spots. The troll soon dissolved into particles, leaving a pile of loot that made Blake lick his lips.
He'd been looking for items to empower both himself and Beatrix, and two such items had finally dropped. Talk about luck. While the malleable stone sounded intriguing and awakened his inner craftsman, Blake opened his inventory and took out The Winter Scabbard.
This item might have been intended for the 12th Lost King or perhaps a successor. What secrets did it hold?
Blake checked its stats, triggering a system notification:
"…Matchmaking?" Blake whispered, stunned.