Victor stared in stunned silence. He didn’t know what to ask, what to say, what to even think. He was simply shocked beyond being able to formulate any kind of coherent response.

Even his body didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t blink, or breathe differently, or show any kind of expression. He didn’t move — but he wasn’t necessarily tense.

Everything was just blank.

Thomas — not Chloe — was the one to finally snap him out of it. “Crash landing ahead!”

Whipping her head around, Chloe let out a string of curses, hunching down in the rickety mining cart and, Victor noticed — taking her fingers off of the rim.

Peering ahead over her shoulder, Victor saw what the trouble was, and this time, his body did respond — a stone heavy sinking feeling settled within his gut, and his heart rate noticeably increased.

While Scarlet’s crimson glow only illuminated about a dozen paces in all directions, the end of the track in the distance was nothing more than a loose, earthen mound — visible under the glow of flaming bronze braziers.

Victor didn’t curse, instead settling for a worried wheeze. The cart didn’t show any sign of slowing down — in fact, they were currently accelerating down a slight downhill gradient. It was definitely going to be a rough landing.

“Victor, get down in the rear,” Chloe commanded. The two boys obeyed without questioning. All three were in this together, and the unspoken rule had to be that if one said something, the others accepted it.

Trust was essential to survival.

As they hurriedly shuffled around, Victor thought he understood why Chloe was suggesting it. He was grievously injured, after all, and the impact would undoubtedly throw them all towards the front. Therefore, as he was the one in most danger of further injury, he should be in the back.

Pressing himself flat against the rear of the cart, Victor tried to force himself to relax. He knew logically that keeping himself loose throughout the collision was the best way to prevent injury — but he had to fight against his inherent bodily instincts.

Victor counted the seconds. Just a few more paces…

With a sudden realization, he yanked Thomas’s bow back into his inventory. The other boy yelped in alarm, but Victor didn’t have time to explain that he was storing it so that there would be no chance of it breaking — or worse, impaling one of them.

The ends were rather sharp, after all.

Another second passed.

Victor slammed into Thomas from behind. Despite his best attempts not to scream, he released a short, pained cry at the pain spiking through him. The impact wasn’t nearly as bad as he feared — but sliding against the other boy’s filthy clothing burned his damaged skin, and the impact magnified the ache in his bones.

The cart tipped over. It felt almost comically slow — for several uncertain seconds, the trio hung seemingly in midair, just before they were dumped onto hard packed earth.

A deep, guttural warcry echoed throughout the small cave chamber. Groaning, Victor rolled onto his back and summoned the bow. Thomas was already on his feet, looking around expectantly.

“Bow,” Victor croaked.

Snatching it immediately, Thomas notched a spectral arrow and aimed it at something on the other side of the cart and mound. Between those two obstacles and Thomas himself, Victor was having a hard time seeing whatever the hell it was that they were now facing off against.

Chloe was on her feet as well, reaching into the unfamiliar satchel she now carried at her side. “I think that’s a troll,” she said in a matter of fact tone.

Hoisting himself up to his feet, Victor stepped to the side of Thomas just as the ranger released his shot. The crackling green bolt streaked straight into the face of what was, undoubtedly, a cave troll.

The creature was three times as tall as the largest of men, with legs thicker than a man’s waist and arms to match. Its proportions were all wrong as well — its hands for instance, were rocky, curled fists the size of its head, with tiny stubs for fingers.

To Victor, they resembled large boulders more than hands.

Jagged, milky white, unpolished crystals carpeted its backside — running all the way from its heels to the nape of its neck.

As for its face — well, it had a disconcertingly wide mouth and small, beady black eyes. No nose — after all, trolls were monsters designed for all around toughness and durability. Why include something that could be so easily broken?

Thomas’s shot flew true, of course, splattering the monster’s face in sizzling, corrosive green energy. Victor doubted that it would do much. Troll hide was one of the most coveted of the reasonably common, purely mundane armor materials for its resistance to pretty much everything — but it was damn expensive.

Not because trolls were rare and hard to find. Not at all. No, on the one hand, working with it was just an absolute nightmare. The very properties that made it desirable as armor made it ridiculously hard to turn into armor.

On the other hand, nobody wanted to kill the damn things. Even if they posed little threat to more powerful delvers — which the trio were most definitely not — they just took way too long to defeat. Most seasoned delvers saw them as far too inefficient, and the rookies wanted nothing to do with them.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Thus, the price mostly came down to whether you could pay a top delver to spend the extra effort and stamina to bring one down. And even then, there was a waitlist — as you had to wait until they actually encountered one.

All of that to say that Victor was not exactly pleased.

Backing up, he began to circle around the side of the chamber. “Don’t aim for the face,” he cried out weakly to the other two. “The eyes are tough as fuck. Aim for the armpits, groin, and behind the knees.”

Those were the places that his master, Harold, had told him were the typical entry points for removing or cutting the hide — and Victor hoped that it meant they were also the primary vulnerabilities for attacks while it was still alive.

Thomas nodded as he notched another arrow. As he did so the troll beat its chest twice before stomping around the dirt mound and cart. It was obvious that the monster was focusing on targeting Thomas.

As he crept between the outer ring of stalagmites, Victor frowned. He knew he was currently useless in this fight — his only weapon was the rat dagger, and besides, he was in no shape for proper combat.

What could he do to help?

As the troll rounded the dirt mound, Thomas circled around opposite it, keeping the obstacle between them. The ranger fired another shot — aiming straight between the towering monster’s legs.

Victor would have laughed, if not for the state of his lungs and the grave seriousness of the situation.

As he continued to stay in the shadows, his cloak subtly working to keep him out of the monster’s attention, Victor ran over every tool in his disposal.

The cloak. Scarlet. The dagger. The book itself…

Victor frowned. He thought there was something he might be missing… Let’s see. The cloak will already help me do whatever it is that I… well, want to do. No way I can use the dagger… Victor’s thoughts were interrupted as the troll charged.

Thomas fled, nimbly weaving between a grove of stalagmites — but the troll shifted course, now targeting Chloe. The young leapt out of the way just as a colossal fist slammed down, rolling backwards with admirable dexterity and landing right back on her feet.

Of course, the troll was already striding forward, this time attempting to stomp her with its wide, flat feet.

But Chloe did the unthinkable. Instead of trying to retreat further, she ran forwards, sliding between the monster’s tree trunk like legs, rising to her feet just behind it. The troll rounded on her, but by that point she had already sprinted to the other side of the mount and upturned cart.

Another corrosive bolt struck the troll — this time behind the knee. The monster staggered slightly — but it seemed almost reflexive, and it righted its footing immediately, letting out a rumbling roar like an avalanche of grinding stone.

Striding forward, the troll picked up the mining cart, swinging it around wildly. Victor glanced at Thomas. The other boy seemed extremely exhausted — which was only natural — but it seemed to have taken him quite suddenly.

Oh. Right, he’s out of arcane energy.

Victor sighed. Well, here goes the last of it. And with that thought, he shoved the remainder of his spiritual reservoir over to the other boy. Thomas perked up immediately, scanning the room with renewed vigor.

His gaze passed right over Victor without stopping — it seemed the cloak was working exceptionally well with him crouching in the darkness amongst the stalagmites.

“Maybe we can just hide among the rocks?”

Chloe’s question sounded reasonable — but Victor didn’t see how they would progress further. The chamber was completely closed off — it appeared a boulder had fallen over the tunnel entrance right after they reached the end of the track.

The dungeon was forcing them to fight it.

Chloe was now crouching among the stalagmites just as Victor was — but she didn’t have the luxury of a camouflaging cloak. Raising the rusty mining cart menacingly, the troll staggered towards her.

With a grunt, it threw the cart with surprising speed and accuracy. Chloe dove out of the way just far enough to avoid the worst of the shrapnel spray of shattered rock. Stumbling forward, the troll began punching at the outcroppings protecting her, sending sharp shards in all directions.

Hiding isn’t going to work. Chloe seemed to realize it too, as she was now weaving between the stalagmites towards him, keeping just ahead of the troll’s pounding.

Another shot from Thomas’s enchanted bow distracted the monster just long enough for Chloe to regain a safe distance. Wheezing curses under his breath, Victor desperately tried to come up with something.

What was he forgetting? Was it… Oh. The binding thread enchantment!

That could actually be quite useful here. The troll wasn’t exactly nimble, and if Victor could trip it up — well, it certainly wouldn’t kill it, but maybe it would buy them time. It was the best he could do.

Licking his chapped, stinging lips, Victor conjured the thread using his own body’s energy. Fortunately, the arcane energy drain was quite small — but unfortunately, he was already extremely fatigued. I’ll just have to push through it.

After quickly tying the end of the thread tightly around the base of the thickest nearby stalagmite, Victor sprinted out from under cover.

Please don’t notice me.

The troll was currently striding towards Thomas, focused entirely on the ranger. Good. Victor didn’t try to sneak — he simply ran as fast as he could in an attempt to intersect the monster.

He wanted to slow down. He was almost in front of the troll’s colossal legs, and instinct screamed at him to take caution. But the sooner he got there, the more space he would have. Victor doubled his efforts.

As Victor ran in front of it, the troll finally caught sight of him, taking a single clumsy swing. Fortunately, Victor was just barely out of range, and another sizzling green bolt smacked into the monster, enraging it further.

The troll stepped forward. Victor turned, running around behind it and looping the thread. As soon as he came back to where he started, he willed the thread to tighten as much as it possibly could, while also pushing more energy into strengthening it.

The troll tripped.

Falling face first into the ground, the colossal monster groaned as its impact kicked up a small cloud of dust. Victor furrowed his brow. Now what? The troll was still lying face first — it seemed to be kicking its legs in vain rather than lifting itself back up.

A crazy thought struck Victor. Trolls have to breathe, right?

Victor dashed forward. He was nearly at his limit, he could feel it — but the nervous thrill coursing through his body was just barely enough to sustain him for another mad exertion of will.

Dodging the indignant pounding of the troll’s fist, Victor climbed up onto its spiny back. It was difficult footing indeed, forcing him to crouch down. The troll attempted to swat at him, but Victor pressed himself low while dispelling the thread…

And then he looped a new thread around the monster’s beefy neck.

Tying it once, he finalized the enchantment.

The loss of energy caused his vision to swim. He could just barely stumble away from the troll as he collapsed to the ground. He could hear voices, but not what they were saying or even who was speaking — a rush of arcane energy poured into him, but it was too late.

He had already pushed his aching, damaged body to the limit.

I just need to last longer than it does.

Victor didn’t know what would happen to his enchantment if he died — but he didn’t want the other two to have to find out. Better safe than sorry.

With that thought, Victor clung onto consciousness like a drowning man clinging to a sinking raft in a thunderstorm.

And then he couldn’t hold any longer.

Victor sunk into darkness.

Soul harvested!

Harvested souls: 1