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Monarch Chapter 18
🕑 Added 2025-11-29 04:18:00 +0000 UTCChapter 18
The troll's eyes squinted at him. Rayne's heartbeat quickened and his senses rang out in warning, telling him to run. To not become flesh for the troll to feed on.
Rayne ignored them, gripping his sword with a steady hand and pushing the status screen to the back of his head so it couldn't interfere at all.
The troll slowly got up. The body fell from its legs, and for a heartbeat, they simply stared at each other before a thunderous roar shook the cavern walls.
The sound was deafening, bouncing off the stone like a warhorn. Bits of flesh flew from its jaws as it rose to full height, muscles rippling with each movement. Its massive hand clenched at the side as it gave him a grin.
Rayne’s legs moved before his mind could catch up.
He dove to the left just as the troll rushed him. Some troll words flew over his ears as it nearly crashed into the wall. Stone splintered due to the impact, and as the troll turned, it let out another roar that held only bloodlust.
His ears rang, and as the troll sprinted in a charge again, Rayne dodged as before, only this time, he had been prepared.
He rolled, missing the stone-breaking fist and managed to slash with his sword. The blade bit into the troll's thigh, carving out a line of ichor.
The troll cried out in fury, and another fist came down at him.
Rayne ducked under it, rushing to attack its bare chest, but the monster turned out to be smarter than the ones he had fought before. It stomped the ground, dust flying straight at him.
He panicked and heard its giant feet shifting, and knew he had lost the opportunity. He rolled back, hoping to dodge the counter, but something grazed his back and he felt himself stumbling through the rocky ground, skidding on his elbows.
He felt a sharp cut on his arm as his chest plate saved him from the worst. Pain assaulted him, but he had no time to look at his injury.
Another set of fists came at him. Rayne rolled to dodge one as pebbles flew in the air before pushing himself up and striding backwards while keeping an eye on the troll.
It didn't charge him this time, the grin stretching across its ugly face as if enjoying the hunt. Rayne let it think that.
Gripping his blade tightly, he charged this time, the troll stomping its foot again. He aimed a slash at it, but the troll dodged it easily.
Rayne had meant it to be easy. Before it could send him sprawling with a punch, Rayne ducked and pushed his blade up and forward. It slipped under the fist and traced a red line through its flesh.
It cried out in pain as he managed to cut one of the tendons. But as he took a step back to put distance between them, he saw its legs coming at him.
He hastily put his left hand forward, but realized too late he didn't have his shield. The lack of it hit him hard as he crashed to the ground, tasting dirt and feeling his armor crack under the blow.
He groaned in pain and glanced at the troll, ichor dripping on the ground around it. The status light made it look far more menacing.
It charged again, a mad rush this time. Rayne ignored the pain, trusting his tolerance, clenched his jaw, and jumped on his feet just as the flurry of strikes cracked the air around him.
He dodged each of them as the troll swung its fist downward, hoping to crush him on the ground. Several times, the ground cracked with its strength, sending dust sprawling at him. But it didn't bother him this time.
He used its madness to his advantage and scored several cuts along its calf and foot, using the old-age strategy of bringing down a troll.
Unfortunately, it didn't seem to work, and he only felt the troll's speed increase.
Suddenly, as he dodged one punch, he saw the troll lunge at him. Rayne backed, but the troll's good arm yanked him by the shoulder. It cracked under the pressure. Pain erupted all over as it held him and threw him in the air.
Rayne crashed on his back, burning with pain all over his body. Blood dripped down from his legs. He gritted his teeth, his hand moving toward the blade, but found it missing.
He panicked, looking across the ground before seeing it right before the troll. As he watched, it stepped on it, crushing it and letting out another roar.
He got the meaning this time, and it wasn't anything nice.
With both weapons out, he felt defeated already, but Rayne didn’t want to die right here in the coldness of the caves. His eyes desperately moved around, hoping for a solution as his left hand touched the daggers he carried.
Then, an idea hit him. Just as the troll stomped toward him, ready to end it.
Rayne ignored the pain in his limbs, grabbed the dagger, and waited for the right moment. As the troll reached ten steps away from him, he acted.
The troll raised its fist. Rayne threw the dagger. Then another.
Both of them sailed through the air. One hit its fist, bouncing off it, but the other managed to lodge itself right in the center of the wound on its fist.
It cried out, fist suddenly dropping as it spasmed. Still, it charged.
Rayne lunged out of the way at the last moment, letting it crash into the wall. He only heard an ugly wail behind him, but he simply focused on his target.
Right on the other side, just behind the armor, he saw the glint of a sword. He picked it up, a little heavy for his liking, and didn’t waste any time.
Before the troll could get up again, he sprinted toward it and stabbed the sword at the back of its knee. The tendon gave way with a sickening snap. The troll crashed into the wall again.
It tried to turn its head, but Rayne caught it and slammed it into the wall. Blood burst out of it as it fell to the ground. Despite the heavy bleeding, it thrashed around.
Rayne took out the sword from its knee, his eyes moving to every vital part he could strike before he stepped onto its back and drove the sword into the base of its neck.
The troll thrashed more. He held on and twisted the blade.
“Just fucking die,” he cursed, and finally, after a minute of thrashing, the troll gave one final spasm and went still.
Rayne kept staring at its corpse for a second, wondering if it was still somehow alive. Notifications rang in the back of his mind, but he only looked away once the pain became too overbearing.
He dropped to the ground, his hands trembling. He slowly took off his helmet and flopped on the ground. It hurt everywhere on his body. He still bled. The fight had been far nastier than the last time he had fought a troll. There were no arrows to keep it distracted this time.
Still, he had won.
As he took deep breaths, a wave of static crawled across his vision like a pulse. He staggered, blinking rapidly as the world around him seemed to dim. No, not dim. The opposite.
Light bloomed where there had been none. The pitch-black cave, once hidden beyond the radius of his glowing status screen, slowly came into view. Details sharpened. He could make out the moss on the walls, the grooves in the stone, and the faint trails of old blood smeared across the floor.
“What’s going on?” He raised his head up, looking at the body of the dead troll, then back at the chamber.
He wondered what happened suddenly when it hit him. He pulled up the notifications.
You have slain Troll x 1.
You have gained adequate experience.
The experience hadn't been enough for another level up, but he had gained something more.
Skill Stealer Activated.
You have stolen the skill Umbral Sight (Uncommon). The skill had been registered as a new skill.
Finally, after what felt like months, he had managed to steal another skill. And just by its name and effect, he could tell that it was similar to the night vision skill of the arcspiders.
One look at its description confirmed it. Not only was it a night vision skill, it also gave him a passive effect of making his eyesight better.
Rayne grinned despite the pain.
It wasn’t a regeneration skill like he had been looking for, and one that might have helped him a lot right now. But something was always better than nothing.
Umbral Sight was a welcome addition to his growing set of skills, especially in the caves. He almost wondered if fate had guided it to him. For a while, he simply forgot the pain as he pushed himself up in a crouch.
Even doing that made the pain gush back. His left leg had been punctured by a rock, and he could only tear away some cloth from his pocket and stop the bleeding. There were several other minor injuries, but they were a part of life now.
He could only hope for a potion once he found his party.
The thought of them reminded Rayne of the corpse still at the centre of the chamber.
Rayne turned his head around, his gaze pausing at the corpse sitting in the centre of the chamber. The fight hadn't been around it, and he hoped it was intact enough for him to recognise who it was.
Bran? Kesh? Nate? John? Names swirled through his brain. He took hesitant steps towards the corpse.
It hadn't been that long, but he had already been in a few life-and-death battles with his party. And even if he didn't consider each of them a friend, they were the closest people to him in Algar.
Finally, as he reached the corpse and gazed down, he realised who it was and instinctively took a step back.
Marco.
Half of his face had been eaten and a large hole punctured his chest, almost dividing his torso in two. His limbs were mostly intact, but he guessed that the troll just hadn't gotten to them before Rayne had arrived.
Despite the gruesome state the corpse was in, he could tell who it was. The side of the face that was intact had a scar running down. He had seen it on Marco.
He hadn't seen the man during the battle with the arcspiders, but assumed he had been the first to back away. Guess he had been wrong.
He didn't know what had happened, but Marco had stumbled across the troll and had gotten killed. A gruesome end, looking at his corpse.
He frowned. He had seen corpses before, the first thing opening his eyes in the world. But it was different when it was someone he knew. Someone he had been in a battle with.
Rayne stood there for a minute before clasping his hands together.
“Oh Benevolent Hathras, please guide his soul into your halls and make sure to send it back to the river of reincarnation,” he offered a prayer.
He didn't know if he should believe in the gods here, but if magic was true, then they were too. His memories even held records of reading about them manifesting in a different era.
After doing so, he looked back at the armour thrown across from him, wondering if he should carry a part of it. But then decided against it.
With injuries on his body, he couldn't afford to be sentimental.
Rayne gave one last look at Marco, hoped that Hathras would be free enough to listen to this one prayer, then stepped towards the exit on the other side of the chamber.
If he was right, then he was near or already in the troll territory of the vast cave tunnels.
He needed to be careful if he had any hopes of getting out of here alive. Especially after that battle. He had been lucky with only one troll around.
He disabled his status screen and stepped foot in the tunnel.
His side burned more with each step as he put his back against the wall, inching slowly. He clutched Marco's sword in his hand. Still too heavy for his liking, but doable.
Rayne didn't know if it was the pain, injuries or tiredness, but he felt a throbbing headache. His eyes felt heavy, but he kept walking, gaze moving everywhere for more signs of trolls.
Umbral Sight helped massively with it. Every jagged edge, every root curling down from the ceiling, every drop of moisture glinting off the rock—he saw it all.
Among them, they were there.
Massive footprints he had come to associate with trolls, dragged across soft cave dust. Gouges carved into walls where thick claws had scraped past. The occasional pile of dung, unmistakably troll going by the size of it. Some of it was still warm as Rayne passed by.
They were nearby. Many of them.
Rayne let out a breath, his sword felt heavier now. But he kept moving.
The tunnel ahead forked, one path wide and smoothed by regular passage, marked with scuffed footprints and long drag marks. Trolls. Maybe two or three different ones, judging by the size difference.
Rayne stared at the larger tunnel, jaw clenched. He'd no doubt he would find more trolls there, but his ribs still burned. He still had a slight limp on his leg.
His eyes shifted to the right. An older, narrower passage, half-collapsed at the edges and marked by dripping limestone. The stalactites above seemed like the jaws of some waiting beast, and the uneven floor made his injured leg throb with every step.
It seemed to be moving upwards. But narrow meant fewer trolls. Maybe none.
“I hope it's not a dead end,” Rayne whispered, looking at the bigger tunnel for a second before finalising his decision.
He slipped into the tight path, ducking low to avoid the teeth-like stalactites, stepping carefully around loose stones. He held his blade tight, expecting the giant bats or some other monster, back brushing against cold stone as he advanced.
Minutes passed. Maybe more.
The air grew colder, and he felt each step a battle on its own.
The tunnel curved upwards, then dipped, forcing him to brace his hand against the wall. His palm came away wet—not with water, but some kind of moss or lichen that pulsed with a faint, unnatural glow.
Finally, after at least half an hour of climbing and walking, he stopped.
Ahead, the tunnel ended, not into another room, but what seemed like an edge. A drop.
Rayne crept forward, crouching low until his eyes peeked over the lip of stone.
Below, the cave widened into a massive chamber.
His breath hitched and eyes widened. For a second, he wondered if what he was seeing was even real. But it solved one mystery in his mind.
The chamber was massive, easily the size of a village square. Stalagmites like stone teeth jutted from the floor, and a faint greenish glow pulsed from patches of lichen clinging to the walls. But it wasn’t the size or the eerie light that made him still.
It was the goblins. Hundreds of them.
Some sat near the walls, talking among themselves. Others dragged carcasses of what looked like arcspiders and giant bats into piles. A lot of them were armed, with bone knives, rusted swords, bows and wicked hooks. A few wore armor, mismatched and probably stolen.
He saw several trolls among them, mostly sitting. He realised where the goblins had gone after abandoning their nest—to form an army of their own.
Rayne didn't get any of their conversations. They were muddled and a lot of them spoke over themselves. Still, his eyes kept scanning their numbers, noting every detail down.
If he got out of here alive, it would be worth in gold.
Suddenly, as he peeked around the chamber, something caught his eye. Not on the ground. But on a similar window on the other side of the cavern. Some movement.
He narrowed his eyes, trying to see what it was. If a troll or a goblin saw him, he needed to run. But then, familiar figures entered his gaze.
He caught the hint of an armour first, then blades before finally seeing Bran and Nate crawling up to the edge to peer down like he had done. He could make out more people behind them.
Relief filled him instantly. They were alive and coincidentally had found the same chamber as him, but from the opposite side.
He almost called out to them, but the sea of grey, red and green below him stopped him.
Instead, Rayne simply waited. Bran had a habit of scanning everywhere and sooner or later, he would see him. Like he had thought, as the old veteran moved his gaze upwards from the goblins, he froze.
Rayne waved at him and saw Bran tap Nate on the head before he also followed his gaze.
He couldn't be sure, but Nate seemed relieved seeing him and turned his head back, probably to tell the others he was still alive.
For the first time in the past hour, Rayne felt hope burning in his heart. He could survive this. He simply had to join up with his party and they could move out of the damned, never-ending caves. But how? He couldn't jump down to reach them.
As he tried to think of a way, the chamber suddenly shook. Rayne almost fell on the ground before grabbing the edge tightly.
His eyes moved around frantically, trying to find what was going on. The chamber kept shaking and he saw the goblins and trolls quieten down instantly. But none of them moved to run.
He followed their gaze to a large hole on the left, and that's when he saw its silhouette.
Comments
Pocket Rikimaru Thanatos
50 chapters ahead is good motivation lol
Johan Timmers
Tftc
