Chapter 72: The Frost Troll’s End

The group screamed in unison, their horses galloping at full speed, hooves pounding against the cold dirt as the frost troll thundered behind them, shaking the very ground with each monstrous step.

Dorian, gripping Regis's reins tightly, yelled over the wind. "Come on, buddy, I believe in you!"

Then, he turned his head and shouted toward Tache, "I thought you said I should trust you!"

Tache, riding just behind him, grinned despite the dangerous chase. "Of course, trust me now—just go first!"

Dorian, believing his words, urged Regis forward. The stallion surged ahead, widening the distance between him and the others.

Then, Selyse, riding at the rear of the group, shouted—

"STOP!"

Dorian's eyes widened in panic. "WHAT!?"

But the three knights immediately obeyed, jerking their horses aside, pulling their reins hard to stop just before a massive tree with sprawling branches.

Dorian barely managed to halt Regis, spinning around to see Tache already leaping off his horse, running straight for the thickest tree in sight.

Ralnor, meanwhile, stepped into the center of the road, his massive shield planted firmly in the dirt, standing tall like a wall of iron.

Selyse slid from her horse, moving beside Dorian.

She turned to him sharply. "Can you add fire to my lance?"

Dorian blinked. "Fire? I—I'm not that proficient with fire! I can do lightning, nature, wind, and light—"

"Lightning, then!" she interrupted, gripping her lance tightly.

Dorian nodded, raising his flute. A single sharp note rang out, and immediately, tendrils of blue lightning crackled up her lance, wrapping around the entire shaft like a living storm.

The troll approached, fast.

Ralnor banged his shield loudly, drawing its attention. The massive creature roared, frost-coated saliva spraying from its tusked mouth as it charged forward, barreling toward him at terrifying speed.

Ralnor remained completely still, waiting.

Then, as the troll reached them—

"NOW!" Ralnor shouted.

Selyse, already bracing herself, threw her lightning-charged lance with all her might.

Dorian barely had time to process the speed—it was a streak of blinding blue light, ripping through the air like a comet.

Ralnor, still standing directly in the troll's path, didn't move—

Until the last second.

With perfect precision, he sidestepped just as the lightning spear impaled the troll's chest.

The monster shrieked, staggering mid-stride, its legs faltering from the electrical surge burning through its massive form.

Ralnor didn't waste a second.

He smashed his shield into its side, sending the hulking beast stumbling leftward, exposing its throat.

And that was all Tache needed.

From above, he dropped like a whirlwind, his dual swords flashing like silver arcs, slashing across the troll's neck over and over, so fast that Dorian couldn't even count the strikes.

The troll's thick, frozen hide split apart, the neck bone underneath starting to show.

Tache, now drenched in frost and troll blood, barked, "Ralnor—NOW!"

Ralnor grinned.

With his massive gauntleted hands, he grabbed the troll's head, yanked with brute force—

—and ripped it clean off, spine still attached, the long column of vertebrae stretching from its severed neck like a grotesque trophy.

The frost troll's body collapsed, a massive thud shaking the ground beneath them.

Dorian stood frozen, his mouth hanging open, unable to process what he had just witnessed.

The three knights barely reacted.

Selyse calmly stepped forward, planting a boot on the troll's chest.

She reached inside its open cavity, dug deep, and—

Ripped out its heart.

The organ was massive, still steaming in the cold air, its icy blue surface pulsing faintly, holding onto the last vestiges of its frost-touched magic.

Tache whistled, wiping his blades on his coat. "Another bonus."

Ralnor, as if nothing had happened, casually examined the troll's severed spine, twisting it in his grip as if testing its weight.

Dorian finally found his voice, though it was barely above a whisper.

"You three… are absolute monsters."

Selyse walked up to him, handing him the steaming heart.

"Dorian, can you put this in your bag? It's worth a lot of money."

Dorian, still stunned, numbly took it and shoved it into his magical subspace bag.

Ralnor, meanwhile, slung the troll's severed spine over his shoulder, the head still attached, its frozen features locked in a permanent death snarl.

Tache grinned. "We'll keep this as a warning for other wild beasts. If we carry a troll's head, they'll steer clear of us."

Dorian exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples.

"Right. Of course. That makes perfect sense."

Then, muttering under his breath, he mounted Regis again, sighing.

"Gods above… what have I gotten myself into?"

The group rode forward, leaving behind the hulking corpse of the frost troll, its severed head and spine now hanging from Ralnor's grip like a grotesque trophy.

Dorian, still trying to comprehend what he had just witnessed, finally broke the silence.

"How?"

The three knights glanced at him, still calm as ever.

"How did you do that?"

Tache, still drenched in blood, flicked a few frozen droplets off his blade before answering casually,

"It's the way of the North, bard."

Dorian blinked. That wasn't an answer.

"Wait—are all Northerners like you guys? Because if so, I should seriously reconsider heading to Sigvard."

Selyse laughed, shaking her head. "Not all of us. But the deeper north you go, the stronger you have to be."

Dorian exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "Right, right. Well, at least the worst is behind us."

Selyse grinned. "Relax, bard. As long as we reach Moncloud, it'll be smooth sailing."

Dorian arched a brow. "Why stop at Moncloud? We should just carry this troll head all the way to Sigvard and use it as a pass. Who would dare mess with us?"

Tache chuckled, shaking his head. "Oh, you can bring a monster out of Moncloud, sure. But it won't scare away the real threats."

Dorian narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Selyse explained, "Because past Moncloud, no matter how many troll heads you have, the beasts there are relentless."

Dorian's stomach dropped. "Then how in the hell are we supposed to make it to Sigvard?"

Ralnor, ever the silent wall of wisdom, simply muttered, "You will know."

Dorian hated that answer.

The sun had long since set, and the group searched for a clearing to set up camp. The dense Northern woods loomed around them, shadows dancing from the moonlight reflecting off the snow.

Finally, they found a small riverside clearing, the water glistening under the night sky.

"Here will do," Tache announced, dismounting his horse.

As they set up camp, the first order of business was cleaning up.

They found a small section of the river, and one by one, they took turns washing up—but always with someone standing guard.

As Selyse walked toward the water, removing parts of her armor, Dorian, ever the troublemaker, grinned.

"You know, Selyse, it'd be much safer if I joined you."

She didn't even hesitate.

"Alright, then. Come on in."

Dorian froze.

His grin vanished, replaced by a deep crimson flush creeping up his ears.

Tache, already washing his face upstream, took one look at Dorian and burst into laughter.

"Hah! You throw, but you can't take it, huh?"

Dorian, flustered beyond belief, turned around so fast he nearly tripped over a rock.

"I—uh, I'll just—I'll stay here."

Selyse smirked, shaking her head before stepping into the icy river, submerging up to her shoulders.

Tache continued laughing while Ralnor simply sat nearby, polishing his shield, unfazed by their antics.

After they finished washing, they returned to the warmth of the fire, where Dorian took out some meat from his magical bag.

As the fire crackled, the scent of roasting meat filled the air, blending with the crisp cold of the Northern night.

They ate in comfortable silence, the exhaustion of the day settling in their bones.

Then, they set up their watches.

Ralnor took first watch, standing like a silent guardian as the others drifted off to sleep—

Their journey to Moncloud still ahead of them.