Chapter 410: Chapter 407: Grimstone Mountain

Chapter 407: Grimstone Mountain

 

  Mt. Moon Fang stood tall in the distance, its peak stretching towards the sky. It had been two days since their departure, and yet Stryg somehow felt as if they had been traveling for much longer.

  The air became colder the higher the Blood Fang hunters climbed up Grimstone Mountain. The howling winds had ceased as the sun reached its zenith in the sky, but the sun’s warmth did not reach the travelers. The snow reached up to the goblins’ waists. Marching through the snow would have been taxing on the entire group and would have cost them an extra day or two. Fortunately, there were two orange mages among them.

  Stryg and Tauri took turns melting a path through the snow with their flame magic. The others followed behind in a straight line and used their larger frames as windbreaks.

  Tauri channeled flames in a small cone in front of her to conserve energy. Flame spells consumed mana much faster than the other spell forms, save for storm magic.

  “You really traveled with one of those serpent fiends? And she didn’t try to kill you?!” Srixa exclaimed in disbelief.

  Stryg shrugged, “W-Well… she tried to, multiple times. But she couldn’t quite do it.”

  “‘Cause you beat her into submission with your magic?” the huntress guessed.

  “No, actually, I lost the first time we fought,” Stryg admitted. “I’m not sure I could even defeat her now. Lysaila is a grandmaster swordswoman and a deadly lamia.”

  “Then how did you stop her?” Srixa asked, confused.

  “I didn’t… It was some sort of spell, it bound us together somehow. I don’t know how to explain it,” Stryg said. Even now he didn’t truly understand what the magical bond between them was, though he promised Lysaila he would one day learn how to break it.

  “So, you cast a spell to stop her from killing you? Isn’t that the same as beating her into submission with magic?” Srixa frowned.

  “No, I didn’t cast it. I don’t know who did. Lysaila believes it’s an ancient spell engraved in her ancestors’ blood by their creators.”

  “Wait, someone created those serpentine monsters?!” Srixa asked with wide eyes. “Since when can magic do that?”

  Stryg shrugged, “I really don’t know. No one knows how the Mortem did it.”

  “The Mortem? Are they the ones who created those serpentine monsters?”

  “They are the creators of all the beastkin,” Plum interjected, happy to share about a topic she was well-versed in. “They were an ancient powerful order of mages from the Scarlet Realm.”

  “Were?” Srixa raised her eyebrow.

  “The Mortem Order fell four centuries ago, not long after the beastkin were made,” Plum said.

  “Wait, so did the beastkin rebel against them or something?” Srixa asked. 

  Plum nodded, “The academy archives didn’t contain a definitive answer, but historians seem to agree that's the prevailing theory.

  “Heh, serves them right for making those damn monsters,” Srixa smirked.

  “Enough with the stories, we’re almost here,” Otley said with a grim expression.

  Plum stared at the usually-confident emissary and couldn’t help but ask, “Why do you look so tense?”

  Srixa smiled proudly, it was her turn to explain. “That’s Otley of the Iron Spine Tribe you’re talking to, the Troll Slayer.”

  “Oooh…” Plum remembered hearing the title at one point or another, it was only now she was beginning to understand its implications. “So, you, uh, killed frost trolls?” she asked, hoping she was wrong.

  Otley stared at the blanket of snow around them, scanning for enemies. “...Let’s just say that when I was young some of my tribemates and I had some altercations with a few frost trolls.”

  Otley unconsciously ran his hand over the many scars across his face. “In the end, my tribemates lay dead in the bloody snow, as did the trolls.”

  Plum swallowed hard, “I see…”

  “Otley, have you been back to Grimstone ever since?” Aurelia asked with an unreadable expression.

  The emissary shook his head, “No. And I wouldn’t have come back here if it wasn’t for Mother Elect.”

  “Her punishments can be cruel,” Aurelia said with a trace of sympathy. “Thank you, for not telling her about me when you visited the tribe.”

  Otley bowed his head respectfully, “If I had to do it again, I would without hesitation, Favored of the Moon.”

  “We’re here,” Jahn called out.

  “Good, my mana reserves were beginning to run dry,” Tauri sighed in relief.

  A large cavern entrance stretched out from the mountainside. The entrance was almost a vertical drop and even Stryg couldn’t see what lay beyond.

  “You think the frost trolls will be happy to see us?” Plum asked hopefully.

  “The trolls and the Sylvan have had an unstable relationship at best for the last several hundred years, so no, I don’t think they will,” Otley said darkly.

  “Let’s just find out what happened to the last emissary and her guards, fix the ore trade treaty quickly, and get out of this place as soon as possible,” Aurelia said.

  “Gladly,” Otley said.

  “Couldn’t have put it better myself, sis,” Jahn smiled and jumped down the cavern hole, spear in hand.

  “Tch, always going in without any care or hesitation,” Aurelia growled. She grabbed her spear and jumped in after him.

  Stryg, trying to heed First Mother’s words, climbed down with a bit more care, but the floor was covered in ice and he slipped down and tumbled all the way down. He landed with a heavy crash and the ice underneath him cracked in a hundred lines.

  Aurelia stared at his ungraceful landing with disappointment, but said nothing.

  The judging stare felt worse and Stryg wilted underneath her gaze.

  Tauri and Plum had a better time, with Tauri using her flail as a grip while sliding down. Plum held onto her back all the way down.

  Even the other hunters climbed down with more grace than Stryg. He wanted to say aloud that his body was heavier and how the ice couldn’t hold his weight, but it felt like a weak excuse and one First Mother wouldn’t care to hear.

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  Once everyone was together Jahn pointed at the five tunnels that lay ahead of them. “Where to now?”

  “There are so many paths…” Stryg muttered.

  “This is nothing,” Otley said. “The trolls have carved countless tunnels and bridges of ice through the mountain. If you don’t know where you’re going you’ll find yourself quickly lost.”

  “So how are we supposed to choose the right path?” Stryg asked.

  Aurelia narrowed her yellow eyes, “Don’t worry, they’ll show us. Won’t you?”

  The icy cavern exploded in a cloud of snow. The ground rumbled as twenty frost trolls jumped out from beneath the banks of snow. Their massive forms towered over a dozen feet, somewhat smaller than their cavern cousins, though their backs were broader and their arms longer. 

  Their thick hide was covered in short white fur and they wore pale carapace armor. Each held a bulky steel hammer in one hand and a massive shield in the other. Twenty pairs of beady blue eyes glared at the goblins. Their lips were bared back, revealing their sharp fangs.

  Stryg and the other goblins drew their weapons and fell into a defensive position in an instant. They put their backs to one another and formed a protective circle with Tauri and Plum at the center.

  Tauri raised her hands, orange flames crackling at her fingertips.

  Plum stared at the towering beasts and tried her best to stop her legs from trembling.

  “They’re smaller but they look similar to the undead trolls I fought in my 2nd year,” Stryg said under his breath. “I know how to deal with them.” He began channeling white mana into his open hand.

  Tauri noticed what he was doing and she nudged him to stop. “Those were cave trolls. Frost trolls aren’t sensitive to bright spells or any kind of light for that matter.”

  “So how are we supposed to stop them?” he whispered anxiously.

  “Well, they aren’t undead this time, so just poke that sword of yours into their eye sockets or something,” Tauri said.

  “...Good to know,” Stryg muttered wryly.

  Jahn suddenly threw his spear down and opened his arms defenselessly. “We come in peace. I am Jahn, chieftain of the Blood Fang Tribe. We’ve come to speak with your king regarding Evenfall’s recent ore shipments or lack thereof.”

  The trolls stared at them and growled a deep sound, like rocks falling against one another.

  Jahn shared a glance with his sister and nodded silently. They wouldn’t strike first. If the trolls attacked then it confirmed that they had broken the treaty with the Sylvan and their goal for coming here would be hopeless.

  One of the trolls stepped forward and stared at the intruders one at a time, his eyes lingering on Stryg and his sword. The troll slowly lowered his hammer and bowed his head. “Greetings, Jahn of the Blood Fang,” he said gruffly. “I am Izgerd, captain of this guard. My warriors and I shall keep you safe for as long as you stand in our domain.” 

  “...Thank you,” Jahn bowed.

  “Follow me. Our king has been waiting for your kind.” Izgerd turned around and walked down the far left tunnel.

  The other trolls positioned themselves around the goblins in escort fashion and gestured for Jahn and the others to follow their captain.

  Otley kept his hood down, hoping none of them would recognize him. 

  “I guess we follow them?” Jahn whispered.

  “We have no other choice,” Aurelia sighed.

 

~~~

 

  Izgerd led them down several tunnels and across several bridges forged of ice that ran over underground rivers. With each step, Stryg and his companions went deeper into the mountain. He had lost track of where they were, the sound of rushing water echoing off the tunnel walls disorienting him.

  The whole area was covered in snow, ice, and rock. There were only a few torches placed throughout the tunnels. Stryg guessed the trolls relied on their other senses besides sight. The darkness posed no obstacle for his lilac eyes and the other goblins could see fairly well in the dim light, but he could hear Tauri and Plum fumbling about in the darkness behind him.

  Without a word, Stryg grabbed the orc and drow by the hand and let them around each odd rock protrusion and slippery patch of ice.

  “Thanks,” Plum whispered.

  “No problem,” Stryg whispered.

  Tauri said nothing and simply wrapped her arm around his. Stryg smiled, unseen in the darkness.

  Izgerd eventually stopped in front of a large door of steel covered in a thick sheet of ice. He dug his clawed fingers into the ice and it peeled back with a screech, forming a crown of ice around the thawed steel. The door lumbered open with a heavy creak and the frost trolls walked into the large cavernous room without another word.

  “Try to be respectful,” Aurelia whispered to them, though her eyes stared pointedly at Stryg.

  “Of course,” Stryg nodded repeatedly.

  Aurelia looked at him doubtfully and reluctantly walked in.

  The enormous room was filled with icy pedestals displaying all manners of metalcraft, from polished bronze vases to large ornate axes. Two thrones forged of steel and covered in ice stood at the end of the room. The king and queen sat on their thrones with the royal presence of monarchs. 

  The queen was dressed in brightly dyed bear furs and wore a crown of gold on her brow. She smiled at the guests’ entrance.

  But where the queen seemed full of joy, the king was not. He was covered in a dark cloak and he wore no crown. He seemed tired and disinterested.

  Izgerd kneeled down in front of his rulers as did his guards, “Queen Yala, King Alok, forgive me for the intrusion, but I have brought you Jahn of the Blood Fang and his tribe. They seek an audience with your majesties.”

  “Welcome to our home, Sylvan friends,” Queen Yala smiled brightly, though her sharp fangs made the smile seem terrifying. “What has brought you to the heart of our mountain?”

 

 

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