The light in the woods was odd for Adam, having been in the city so long. There was a blue tint to everything that distorted his vision making some things clearer while others were hazy. Even the shadows seemed to have changed colors, throwing off his depth perception. The guards were seemingly immune to the difficulties, so Adam asked Martin about it in a whisper.

“No, we aren’t immune,” Martin said quietly. He wasn’t whispering, merely talking at a volume barely audible over the noise of the carts to Adam sitting right next to him. “All of us have skills of one kind or another that help us deal with it. The Blue Sea is one of the less disturbing regions I’ve traveled through. Almost every combat class I have ever heard of has some sort of skill designed to mitigate the effects of environmental hazards on the senses.” The entire time he was speaking his eyes roamed the surrounding areas.

Although the constant vigilance of the guards should have calmed his nerves, Adam found the opposite was true. If they were traveling through an area that required the well armed and high level guards to be extra alert, he was more than a little terrified of what inhabited the region. “What is it that we are watching for?” The boy was quite proud that he didn’t stutter asking that question.

Martin still didn’t look at him, but still responded. “Keep your voice lower. You barely have to talk at all for me to hear you. As for what we are watching for, the short answer is anything.” There was a pause for a couple of seconds before he continued. “Mainly monsters. Particularly Lost Sea Trolls.”

Adam didn’t have to search his memories too hard to remember trolls, but he didn’t know the specifics of that particular breed. “Lost Sea?”

“Yep.” Martin snorted quietly. “Trolls are stupid beyond reason. Not quite as bad as goblins in some ways, and even dumber in others. I’ll tell you the full story at chow tonight, but even the short version is good. Stories say that when a particular tribe of Sea Trolls heard of The Blue Sea Forest they left their small, overcrowded, and under-fed sea and went to claim the newly found one. Because of the name, they refused to leave once they found the forest, and immediately started integrating. Originally they were easy to fight and kill, as they were woefully ill adapted to fighting and living in forests, but over time they started breeding with the local forest trolls. The Lost Sea Trolls are what came from that breeding mix.”

Martin stretched a little, and started slowing the cart. As he reached for his sword he said, “Yet another breed of troll that is almost impossible to notice in their home environment until they try to bite your head off, unless they are stupid enough to announce their presence. Thankfully, as I said, trolls are stupid beyond reason.”

He pointed ahead of them. “Like that.”

Standing square in the middle of the road was what Adam could only assume was one of the very trolls Martin had been speaking about. Like all trolls it was an overly large, badly put together, ugly, humanoid figure. Most troll breeds were colored and named to match their environment, and this one was no exception. Its mottled skin matched the various shades of blue that filled the canopy as well as the lush grasses and undergrowth beneath it allowing it to perfectly blend into its environment. On the other hand, the blue tones did absolutely nothing to camouflage it while it stood smack in the middle of the brown and gray road.

To add to its blatant stupidity, it was also facing the wrong direction.

A quiet symphony arose from their group, played in notes formed from creaks of leather and bows, accompanied by the clink of chainmail tapping plate, and the shushing of steel being drawn. Adam looked around, watching the guards prepare themselves for the coming fight. Those with melee weapons mostly dismounted their vehicles and horses after gathering them close together, while any armed with bows climbed atop the now stationary carts and carriage. There were also a few with staves that stayed near the bowmen, although one moved to head forward with some of the melee guards.

“Stay here, and watch closely,” said Martin. He gestured towards the nearby guards still watching the surrounding area instead of the troll. Seeing Adam’s nod, the man marched toward the troll.

Adam watched as Martin passed the carriage before he realized he didn’t see the duke anywhere. Apparently a single troll wasn’t worth the man leaving his comfortable seat. On second thought, it was possible that staying where he was would give the man the best chance to survive if something went wrong, seeing as the guards were densest there. The driver was still in his position as well.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

A wave of sadness passed through Adam as he regarded all the armed men and women around him. He realized that they were all something he would likely never be, combat classers. He might not know the details of his class yet, but he did know the name. What kind of combat class could Mother actually be if it had been one. As far as he knew the only purpose of the class he possessed was to raise children. It was a depressing end to the dream of being a mighty hero that he had somehow kept alive despite his abominable childhood.

Arrows hissed as they flew over his head, causing him to turn to watch their flight. Martin and the other melee guards struck at the same time as the arrows, setting the troll to howling in rage. He contemplated his uncertain future as he watched the fight.

Adam was unsure if trolls were just incredibly stupid, deaf as posts, or if the caravan had been employing some sort of silencing field, but the troll had been completely unaware of their presence until just before it was struck. Stupid or not, it was still faster than something that size had any right to be. At least three times the height of the tallest man attacking it, with arms that reached nearly to its ankles, the troll looked ungainly and uncoordinated, but it was no such thing. Most of the arrows hit, but missed the vitals they had been aimed at, instead sticking to the troll's shoulder and lower side as it turned. The swordsmen fared better, but still didn’t quite manage to disable the troll. Their blows had been aimed at the tendons in the knees and ankles, but impacted bone instead.

What did manage to do some actual damage to the troll was the green magical ball that splashed onto its face.

The troll was armed with the trunk of a smallish tree, and was wildly flailing it around with one hand. The other hand was busy trying to wipe the magical acid off its face while bellowing in agony and rage. Adam found the mage preparing the finishing strike, tiny flames rising from his hands as he worked to complete his spell.

Adam hadn’t had much education, but many children's stories featured trolls and the best way to kill them. One of his favorites was the tale of Izi the wizard. It was the story of a poor, street boy who dreamed of being a powerful mage. He was mocked, insulted, and humiliated as a child for this dream, but somehow managed to be Gifted exactly what he desired. He went on to complete a great many feats of heroism and died sacrificing himself for those he loved, but his most lasting achievement wasn’t his many battlefield victories, or legendary monsters defeated. It was a spell combo to trivialize the killing of trolls. Izi invented a spell that made and launched combustible acid. A spell combo that was handed down throughout the generations.

The melee combatants who had been working hard to keep the troll from actually hurting anyone, as well as keeping it at a distance from the caravan, suddenly leapt backwards at a yell from the mage as he launched the ball of fire he had created. Glowing yellow arrows trailing motes of light flashed past everyone, sinking into the feet of the troll. With the agony of the acid on its face, as well as the subsequent blindness, the troll had no idea its feet had been pinned to the ground, and attempted to step into its next swing. When its foot stayed pinned to the ground as its weight shifted, the troll started tipping over.

The boy assumed that the mage either had heaps of experience fighting trolls in this manner, or was simply brilliant, because the fireball impacted the ground right as the troll fell atop that very spot. The resulting explosion of the fireball nearly tore the troll in half, and set the acid to burning. The Acid of Izi, as the spell was first called, burned an incandescent white once ignited, practically melting through the tough bones of the troll. Troll regeneration was completely useless before the specially designed combo.

Maybe the class of Mother wouldn’t result in him being a legendary existence like Izi, but it wasn’t like he had any great adversary left to drive him to the same lengths either. Adam reviewed that thought while the guards kept up their vigil, and the mage prepared to eventually extinguish the troll remains. He really didn’t have anything specific he needed to do anymore. His fellow orphans were safe. Harold was dead.

And he had killed him.

Why was he sad again? He might not be a traditional combat classer like a warrior or ranger, but he had managed to kill an evolved combatant while a newly Gifted apprentice barely out of childhood. Sure, his class didn’t exactly seem to be that of a powerful combatant, but evidence stated otherwise.

Thinking about it further, he remembered the duke telling him that his class was identified as being about raising and protecting children. Perhaps after he distilled it, he could toss out the child rearing aspects, and turn protecting into attacking.

Not attacking children obviously, just attacking in general.