"Not a troll!"

Roden was the first to object to Poivre's suggestion.

"Shan is a more gifted warrior than anyone, but he doesn't know how to wield spirit yet. And his equipment is terrible."

Exceptional reflexes and bodily control would help him become a knight more than anything else, but they were poorly suited to monster hunting—especially against monsters this large. Creatures like that called for good weapons, powerful muscles, and an abundance of spirit. Unfortunately, Shan currently possessed none of the three.

Shan laid a hand on Roden's shoulder to stop him from saying more, then answered Poivre.

"I've heard of them in passing. They get hunted all the time in old tales of knights' exploits..."

"There's a reason they appear so often. Trolls kill knights just as frequently as knights kill them. Inexperienced knights are in particular danger."

Trolls varied in height, but even the smallest stood well over two and a half meters tall. With thick layers of muscle and fat covering those enormous frames, along with dense, tough hair, their strength and defenses were beyond any comparison with a human's. Even if someone managed to wound one, its magical regenerative powers could heal minor injuries in the space of a few breaths. They were formidable foes indeed.

Shan listened quietly to Poivre's explanation, then calmly asked a question.

"Would I be hunting it alone?"

"Of course not. Fifteen people are already preparing to leave. Every one of them has proven their abilities in one way or another, and two are even formally dubbed knights."

Hunting monsters was one of the principal ways a knight could prove his prowess. When there was no war to fight and no quarry within their liege's lands, quite a few knights wandered elsewhere in search of prey. Both knights joining this expedition fell into that category.

"So you're offering to get me into their party?"

"Yes. They're scheduled to leave in two days. With a little effort, I should be able to squeeze in one more person."

In other words, Roden could not come along. Shan turned to ask his companion's opinion.

"What do you think, Roden?"

"Well."

Roden gave the terse reply, then hummed thoughtfully as he stroked his beard.

"Honestly, I'm still a little worried... But if you're not going alone, it might not be a bad idea."

The force Poivre had described seemed more than sufficient to hunt a troll. Hunting in a group would not seriously undermine their original goal, either. Even knights rarely hunted trolls alone, and a teenage boy need only join the hunt and pull his own weight to prove his talent. Of course, hanging back and doing nothing would not suffice, but Roden never even considered that possibility.

His worries now lay elsewhere.

"But can even you get Shan into a party like that, Uncle? They wouldn't normally take a child who isn't even fifteen."

Why didn't armies hundreds strong swarm out to hunt trolls? Usually, no one could afford the expense, and if too many people moved together, the troll would feel threatened and avoid showing itself. That meant they needed a good justification for bringing a boy who, by ordinary standards, would add nothing to their fighting strength.

"Simple. I understand Shan can see as clearly at midnight as he can in broad daylight. We can assign him the role of scout."

"Aha!"

Considering that trolls moved about both day and night and made their homes in deep caves, that ability would certainly be useful. Now that Poivre mentioned it, Roden thought they would probably want an Altoan with such a gift along even if he were a boy who couldn't fight. Not even a knight would emerge unscathed from a blow of a troll's club in pitch darkness.

"Then it should be worth going for the experience. Just having a troll hunt to your name will help build your record... Though I'm a little uneasy about not being able to come with you."

"Can I be honest?"

"Go ahead."

"Anything else aside, I'd be more worried if you came along on a troll hunt."

For all Roden's size and strength, he was still only human. He could not imbue a shield with spirit to block attacks like an experienced knight, so a single misstep might leave him a bloody pulp beneath a troll's club. Even the kindest assessment would put his reflexes and agility somewhere around average.

Roden groaned at Shan's words but could offer no real argument.

"Well, that's true... All right, then. Let's give it a try!"

Once their discussion was over, Poivre left his two guests at the mansion and went out. Adding someone to a troll-hunting expedition departing in just two days meant he needed to consult the city's influential figures as soon as possible.

Meanwhile, Shan received a special lesson in troll hunting from Roden. Having once devoted himself to training for knighthood, Roden knew a fair amount himself. When he asked the household servants for help, they also found several books on trolls in Poivre's study. Of course, since Shan could not read, Roden read all of those aloud to him as well.

"Now, a troll's weaknesses... Its hair is saturated with grease and catches fire easily, and burns don't regenerate readily."

"So set it on fire and it's done for."

"Right. But another book says the opposite. It says lighting fires or carrying torches near a troll is forbidden."

"Why?"

"The instant it sees one, it'll run away and start throwing rocks."

Trolls were expert stone throwers. If they put their minds to it, they could hit a target as far as a hundred meters away. Worse, thanks to their enormous size and strength, the stones they threw were larger than a human head. A hit would naturally leave someone crippled at best, and more often kill them outright. They usually refrained from this tactic only because they enjoyed the feel of clubbing people or tearing them apart with their bare hands.

"So fire's a weakness, but you can't use it."

"Exactly. Carry a fire around and it'll never let you get close. And it won't give you time to strike a flint and light one right under its nose, either. Still, not everything in books is true, so you should judge according to the situation."

There were other methods, such as magical weapons that weakened regeneration and alchemical poisons effective against trolls, but naturally neither was available to them. To obtain such things, they would have to visit the kingdom's capital or another city of comparable size.

"This one's the most useful, at least. Right here."

Roden tapped his temple with an index finger.

"Whatever other part of its body you injure, it'll regenerate given enough time and food. But destroying its brain will kill it for certain. It's a weak point for other creatures too, of course, but it means even more with a troll."

* * *

Poivre returned from his discussions at city hall as dinner was drawing to a close that evening. Although he had not been gone particularly long, exhaustion was plainly written on his face.

"Everything is arranged. You'll depart from the east gate on the morning after tomorrow."

"Thank you."

"Not at all. If anything, I must apologize for failing to secure you a proper reward for the hunt."

Unlike the other warriors taking part, Shan had not been promised a large share of the troll's carcass. His role was strictly to watch for its approach at night or locate it hiding inside a cave. Even that small share, however, was an eye-popping sum to ordinary people.

"Please don't overexert yourself. The purpose of this troll hunt is simply to gain experience."

Even without serving as a main combatant, someone who had experienced hunting a large monster was worlds apart from someone who had not. Many people facing one for the first time froze at the oppressive presence of a creature far larger than themselves. That was why merely acquiring the label of someone who had taken part in a troll hunt increased one's worth.

"Until your departure, please make yourselves comfortable here in my humble home."

Contrary to Poivre's description, to Shan his house was as luxurious as the Goddess's own palace. There was the study filled with expensive books, where they had looked for information on trolls, a marble bath, and bedrooms with beds stuffed full of wool and quilts and pillows filled with goose down.

When Shan asked whether all merchants were this rich and whether nobles lived in even greater splendor, Roden shook his head.

"Jewelers are the richest and most powerful merchants in this country. They deal in magic stones."

Magic stones were Pendia's specialty, thanks to its proximity to the Demonlands. There was a reason Roden's father, who ran the largest jewelry business, headed the capital's merchants' guild. Even he, however, could not breach the stronghold of the noble and knightly classes.

The following day, Shan toured the city's shops with Roden and Poivre to buy things that would help on the troll hunt: a harpoon that would be difficult to pull free once embedded, leather armor for his torso that fit reasonably well if not perfectly, and a spear and arrows made of high-quality steel. Finally, they bought a serviceable black horse. It fell a little short of a knight's warhorse, but was comparable to the mounts used by mercenary cavalry. This purchase was beyond Roden's means, so he borrowed money from Poivre.

"This horse was raised around monsters from a young age to accustom it to their scent. That has made it bold, so it won't spook easily under ordinary circumstances."

There was no way to know whether the horse dealer was telling the truth, but the animal clearly had a much better build and more muscle than Shan's previous mount. It would probably be far stronger and faster, even if it had somewhat less stamina. Whatever a traveler or laborer might need, those were better traits for a knight's warhorse.

Only after a lengthy bout of haggling with the dealer did Roden sell Shan's scrawny gray mount and buy the black horse. Shan was learning a great deal by following him around, but he doubted he could ever learn to bargain like that.

When the bargaining finally ended, Poivre, who had been watching quietly from behind, spoke with a pleased expression.

"You truly were born to be a merchant, young master."

"Much as I hate to admit it."

Roden gave a somewhat rueful smile. Poivre and the other officers of the jewelers' guild had long wanted to raise him into a merchant.

After buying the horse, they left the city through a nearby gate. Shan needed to grow accustomed to handling his new mount, and the horse needed to grow accustomed to its owner. Marching was a part of combat too; he could hardly go wandering wherever he liked while traveling with the others.

"How is it?"

"Hmm, not bad. No, it's good."

Shan nodded in satisfaction at Roden's question. His new horse was a little less responsive to subtle cues than his old one, but it was definitely stronger and faster.

"Not giving this one a name either?"

"I don't want to get attached. It could die at any time."

Horses were extremely easy targets for enemies in battle. Having learned that firsthand in his recent fight with the mounted mercenaries, Shan did not want to become any more attached to his horse than necessary. The stronger the attachment, the greater the loss would be.

A little later, Shan rode around swinging his various weapons through the air, just as he had once played alone in the forest. With each movement, his posture adjusted subtly to the different speed and height of his new mount. He finished by shooting from horseback, planting his arrows in a line in a tree sixty meters away.

At dinner that evening, Poivre brought up the practice session and burst into hearty laughter.

"The way you suddenly twisted around and hurled that harpoon—what an astonishing sight! I do hope your troll hunt goes well. Honestly, a merchant is supposed to keep a cool head, but it's rather difficult to remain calm in a situation like this."

"What sort of situation?"

"Watching a boy hero come into bloom."

Poivre answered Shan's question with an excited expression.

He had already secured Shan a place on the troll hunt and lent him money on Roden's word alone, but apparently it was only after watching his training outside the city that afternoon that he had become convinced of Shan's potential. The middle-aged merchant's face had grown flushed, perhaps from all the wine he had been sipping.

"I truly find it impossible to believe you've never received any training. Would it be an exaggeration to call you Emperor Baren reborn...?"

Emperor Baren was the founder of the old Arman Empire and the first paladin of the faith of the Goddess, a figure who belonged as much to myth as history. Had an Old Faith cleric heard him comparing Shan, an Altoan, to such a man, he would probably have stormed in at once and tried to cut his head off.

'Come to think of it, Roden compared me to him before too.'

Ignorant of history, Shan knew only that the man was called the greatest and most powerful knight. Then again, anyone who had built a vast empire encompassing the entire western continent through force of arms could hardly have been weak.

Imagining himself becoming as great a knight as this Emperor Baren, Shan let out a short laugh. People said the bigger the dream, the better, but that seemed a little unrealistic. After all, no one seriously dreamed of becoming a king or a god, did they?

* * *

On the day of departure, Shan checked every piece of his equipment and even his emergency rations with Roden's help before heading to the east gate. He had left fairly early, so only three or four warriors had arrived ahead of him. One of them frowned at the sight of Shan.

"Well, what's this? A little brat? And riding a horse, no less..."

"That's the Altoan they mentioned before. Born with unusual eyes that let him see wonderfully well at night, wasn't he?"

Apparently word of Shan had reached them, for another warrior spoke up and studied him with curiosity. In response, Shan pulled his hood low to show them the glow of his eyes.

"Oh..."

"Damn it, get those disgusting eyes out of my sight!"

It now seemed that the man who had first picked a fight had disliked him from the outset. Judging by his apparent loathing for Altoans, he might be an Old Faith believer. Shan neither answered him nor walked over to slice off his head or wrist. That was thanks to Roden's persistent lessons: he could not achieve his dream if he reacted to every insult, and he needed to exercise restraint.

Someone else lost his temper instead.

"Hey. What the hell did you just say?"

"What did I say?"

"Say that shit one more time and I'll kill you."

A middle-aged swordsman with a scarred face strode forward, and the man who had started the trouble flinched back from his murderous intensity. Looking more closely, Shan noticed that one of the swordsman's arms was rather large and thick. He seemed to be an Altoan too. The atmosphere fell beyond quiet into gloom.

Fortunately, more warriors soon began arriving one by one, and conversation gradually resumed. Finally, once the sun was shining brightly, the two knights appeared.

"Why are there so damned many of them?"

"I told them a guide would be enough. They just don't listen..."

The two knights wore plate armor and rode warhorses. With their helmet visors raised, their youthful faces were fully visible. Both were perhaps somewhere between twenty and twenty-five. Their expressions were proud and haughty, befitting men who swore to kneel before none but gods and sovereign lords.

Shan frowned slightly as he watched them grumble. Unlike Feonil, whom he had seen before, they lacked some quality—seasoned confidence, perhaps, or an imposing presence. Naturally, their squires were younger still. Perhaps thirteen or fourteen, about Shan's own age? It was an odd thought coming from him, but they were at an age better suited to running errands than contributing anything in combat.

Once everyone had gathered, a representative from the city checked their numbers and announced the start of the hunt.

"All right!"

"Let's go!"

The hunters' states of mind varied widely. About a third were excited and eager, another third were subdued by fear and worry, and the final third appeared entirely untroubled. To Shan, both knights seemed to fall somewhere between the first and second groups, though they tried not to show it. Apparently they were not accustomed to hunting large monsters either. Poivre's warning that inexperienced knights often died to trolls nagged at him.

"I'll take the lead and guide you to the area where it was sighted..."

Their guide was the hunter who had first spotted the troll, a man said to have spent a lifetime plying his trade in the area.

Even in Libert, hunting was a dangerous profession that required facing wild beasts and bandits, but here in Pendia it was on another level. In this monster-infested land, a seasoned hunter commanded more respect than anyone save a knight, and all the other warriors treated him courteously.

The expedition left the city and made steady progress north along the highway. Even vicious monsters that thought nothing of attacking sizable groups did not dare approach, perhaps because of the two knights in plate armor.

Riding at the very rear of the column, Shan noticed the Altoan warrior who had threatened the other man earlier approaching him. The man glanced up at Shan and spoke first.

"I'm Kov."

"I'm Shan."

"I heard you were recruited for your keen eyes. You're rather well equipped for that. A fine horse, too."

"Is that what they told you? I volunteered."

When Shan added that he had some confidence in his abilities, Kov gave him an incredulous look, then lowered his head. He seemed to be struggling not to laugh.

"Well, that's good. If things look dangerous, stay close to me. Our kind ought to look out for one another."

Shan felt much the same way and nodded at once. His memories of the Altoan circus remained with him, and given the chance, he too wanted to save one of his own people before anyone else.

Having departed early that morning, the expedition stopped on the highway to rest and eat lunch, then headed straight into the forest to the west. According to their briefing, the troll had been sighted nearby. They might encounter it at any moment. If they failed to find it, however, or if it deliberately avoided them, the hunt might take far longer.

As they entered the forest, the two knights and their squires dismounted.

"We'll have to walk from here."

"No helping it."

A horse carrying a heavily armored knight risked injury while walking through a forest riddled with tree roots. Shan and the other mounted warriors likewise dismounted and took their horses by the reins.

After about an hour of searching the forest, the hunter found something and called everyone over, pointing at the ground.

"Troll dung."

"What a stench..."

"I've heard an experienced hunter can learn a great deal from that. What can you tell us?"

The hunter answered the knight respectfully.

"If this were an animal I hunted often, I could tell you something. Unfortunately, I've had very little experience with trolls. They're uncommon quarry."

"Hmm..."

"Well, that's true."

Even in monster-ridden Pendia, large creatures like trolls appeared only a few times a year. A hunter from the Demonlands, where monsters literally swarmed, might know more, but one could hardly expect a western hunter to be so knowledgeable.

"One thing I can say for certain is that it hasn't been long since it defecated. Unless troll dung cools unusually slowly."

"I see!"

"Everyone, watch your surroundings!"

At the knight's command, the warriors turned their eyes in every direction. The thought of a troll close by brought tension even to faces that had been full of bravado moments earlier. Among them, Shan steadied his breathing and sharpened his senses.

'Where could it be?'

The horse beside him, whose reins he held, was a slight distraction, but as he concentrated, he could feel his awareness gradually extending. The surrounding noises faded as his wide-open pupils drank in every scrap of light and he analyzed the visual information.

As he methodically studied his surroundings, his eyes picked up a strange discrepancy.

'What's that?'

A tree right beside a spearman who was casually scanning the area looked distinctly odd. Unlike the others, it did not grow straight, but bent slightly to one side, as though something enormously heavy were hanging from it...

"You there, sir! With the blond hair!"

"Huh?"

The spearman looked puzzled at Shan's call. Shan spoke as calmly as he could, as though making ordinary conversation, so that whatever was probably above them would not grow suspicious.

"Walk slowly toward me."

"Why?"

"Well... Whatever you do, don't look up."

Shan did not know it, but telling someone not to do something was much the same as telling them to do it. At those words, the blond spearman unconsciously looked up—and met an eye larger than a human fist.

"A tro—"

Before he could finish saying "troll," the shaggy monster landed on the ground.

THUD!

Something that had been a person only moments before was crushed beneath an enormous wooden club.

CRUNCH!