The rock troll was a beast Keldric had heard about several times.
Occasionally descending to the lowlands and settling in villages or mines, these creatures were a particular menace for miners.
Covered entirely in tough rock, they couldn’t be dealt with by the village militia armed with only pitchforks and rusty spears.
Only well-armed nobles’ soldiers, mercenaries, or knights could handle them.
Therefore, if a rock troll occupied a mine, it became an emergency for the local lord.
“It’s quite the dilemma. I have some troops with me, but if I set them against the rock troll, who knows how many I’d lose.”
Currently, Baron Volpen was not just in an emergency; he was in a full-blown crisis.
“As I said earlier, I was heading towards Carlton Village.”
“Yes, Sir Hilmor informed me.”
“Then, do you know why I’m suddenly heading there?”
“That, well…”
Keldric hesitated to answer, as neither he nor Hilmor fully understood the reason.
The only hint they had was that the one who instigated the recent assault on the Lord’s estate was none other than Baron Godfried.
“Is it because of Count Godfried?”
“You’re correct, but you don’t seem to know the full story, do you?”
“Yes, sir.”
Keldric knew little about Baron Godfried, only vague mentions from the cavalry who had invaded Carlton Village.
“Recently, lands belonging to some followers of Count Bogenberg were raided without warning. We suspected the perpetrator was Godfried’s upstart.”
Baron Volpen’s explanation continued.
The relationship between Baron Volpen and Baron Godfried had always been extremely poor.
Godfried had subtly obstructed Volpen’s trade routes, and Volpen, in turn, spread rumors of a plague in Godfried’s territory.
The two insulted each other without restraint, escalating an already strained relationship.
If it had ended there, it might have remained a local baronial feud.
The real issue was that the factions they belonged to were also on poor terms.
“To elevate a courtesan’s son as a noble! That upstart must be out of his mind.”
Baron Volpen belonged to the faction of Count Bogenberg, while Godfried was part of Count Lassau’s faction, who was the Emperor’s illegitimate child.
Like water and oil, the two had no common ground.
Their rivalry intensified, with both taking increasingly bold actions against each other.
In this heated atmosphere, Volpen explained that Baron Godfried had recently started to act brazenly, backed by Count Lassau.
“I’m even worried about Carlton Village, the most remote part of my territory. So, I intended to leave a few troops there. That’s also why Sir Werner accompanied me this time.”
“Have you read Sir Hilmor’s letter?”
“Yes, I did. I suspected as much, but I didn’t think that upstart Godfried would actually…!”
Baron Volpen’s face turned red with anger, and it was understandable.
Baron Godfried’s actions were dishonorable in multiple ways.
While Volpen’s mutual insults with Godfried were also excessive, raiding another lord’s territory without a word was audacious even to Keldric.
“Do they not know the concept of declaring war here?”
The tradition of declaring war existed as a sign of respect, often mediated by the church, where a formal notice was sent to express grievances before war preparations began.
Still, even with such traditions, no new land would miraculously fall from the sky.
For resources, revenge, or mere personal grievances, many imperial nobles attacked neighboring territories without warning.
This did not mean such actions were seen as honorable, however.
“Indeed, he’s a man who knows no honor. Baron Godfried has brought disgrace upon his family name,” murmured Sir Werner, his face etched with contempt.
“Sir Keldric, you may not know this, but Baron Godfried is dangerous. At the very least, you should be cautious around him.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Keldric felt a slow, simmering anger ignite as he recalled the pale, bedridden Yakov.
Baron Godfried’s attack on the Bellaf family’s estate was for a trivial reason: to curry favor with Count Lassau, aiming to please a powerful figure.
“For the same reasons, I’m sharpening my sword to deal with that dishonorable wretch soon.”
Baron Volpen’s tone suggested a certain casualness toward warfare.
Baron Godfried’s surprise raids and dishonorable actions toward neighboring territories were valid grounds for conflict.
Keldric could see the sparks of war beginning to glimmer, though the timing was not yet right.
“Perhaps it would be better if we returned to the matter at hand. While it’s satisfying to disparage Godfried’s upstart, we should handle the issue before us first.”
Baron Volpen sighed heavily and sipped his wine.
As he noted, the pressing concern was not Godfried, but the rock troll.
“In any case, I was headed to Carlton Village upon hearing of the recent raids. Rumor had it that the upstart was targeting villages on the outskirts of territories.”
“But Carlton Village has already…”
“I received a letter from Sir Hilmor, saying it had already been attacked. I nearly lost my head in anger, but thankfully, you took care of those scoundrels, Sir Keldric. Remarkable. Truly, a model knight.”
Volpen’s lavish praise felt somewhat awkward.
He seemed pleased that Keldric had protected his land and thwarted Godfried’s plans.
But Keldric had a lingering question.
‘What was Fritz’s purpose?’
Although Baron Godfried attacked the Bellaf estate, he didn’t raid the village.
He only killed Hilmor and intended to place Fritz in his position, which struck Keldric as odd.
Why would installing Fritz benefit Godfried so much?
When Keldric asked Baron Volpen, Volpen scowled and responded immediately.
“Filthy tactics. By deploying soldiers and making claims about ‘restoring the honor’ of Sir Fritz, who was supposedly wronged, he could create grounds for exercising influence over my land.”
Keldric involuntarily clicked his tongue.
Godfried’s schemes were far dirtier than he had imagined.
“To prevent such a maneuver, I intended to station a small force in Carlton Village. Just a few soldiers with spears would suffice.”
“But then you encountered the rock troll?”
“Much as I’d like to handle the rock trolls myself, losing forces here would weaken Carlton’s defenses. That’s not an option.”
Baron Godfried, intent on raiding Count Bogenberg’s faction’s lands, and Baron Volpen, resolute on stopping him, had turned their conflict into a game of cat and mouse, though Godfried had the upper hand.
He’d failed in attacking Carlton, but other lands loyal to Count Bogenberg had been raided.
“I hired mercenaries, but they were ineffective. Eight of them ended up dead.”
“They were likely mismatched.”
“Those men took the job confidently and got themselves killed. Damn it, if they couldn’t handle it, they shouldn’t have even tried.”
According to Baron Volpen, all ten mercenaries he hastily hired used swords and shields.
While Keldric hadn’t faced a rock troll personally, he imagined that their skin, described in books and stories, was poorly suited for sword strikes.
A sword might chip at best, and stabbing with one was risky, as trolls would not simply stand still.
Using spears from a distance to stab at the rocky gaps might work, hence Sir Werner’s preference for mercenaries skilled with spears.
Yet Keldric had a different thought.
“…Why not just bludgeon them with a mace?”
A strange idea, but it felt worth trying.
Keldric had recently acquired a mace from Schappendorf, and it might be worth testing.
Keldric, consumed with thoughts, refocused on his conversation with Baron Volpen, who was flushed from his wine.
“I’ve ordered the soldiers and mercenaries to keep quiet. Though the trolls have come near Yalta Village, they remain idle by the river upstream.”
Keldric nodded quietly.
He couldn’t help but feel some sympathy for Volpen.
Due to various reasons…
All sorts of crude words spewed from Baron Volpen’s mouth.
It was quite a spectacle.
“Sir Keldric, it’s pleasing to know you truly understand honor!”
“Thank you.”
When Keldric responded awkwardly, Baron Volpen became even more excited and downed wine like water.
By the time Sir Werner decided to end the gathering, it was already deep into the night.
As Keldric took each step, a breath mixed with the scent of alcohol escaped his lips.
The previous night, Keldric had been drinking enthusiastically with Baron Volpen and only managed to return to the inn at dawn.
However, he still had to wake up early, just as the first light of day was beginning to break, to share his conversation with Baron Volpen with the mercenaries and Alisa.
Keldric, weary and sluggish from drink, staggered down to the inn’s first floor.
Alisa and Jorgen, already having beer and grilled salmon for breakfast, greeted him as they noticed him.
“Ah, good morning, Sir Keldric.”
“Good morning, Sir Keldric.”
“Yes, good morning.”
Alisa and Jorgen’s eyes widened slightly.
They’d never seen Keldric look this worn-out.
Although he wasn’t particularly weak with alcohol, drinking from early evening until dawn was hard to handle.
If he were to guess, Baron Volpen might not even be able to get out of bed.
Following Alisa and Jorgen, Keldric sat at a table in the inn’s hall.
Jorgen, quick on the uptake, handed him a glass of cold water, which soon brought Keldric back to his senses.
“Thank you. I feel like I can finally wake up.”
“Haha, not at all.”
“Actually, I was just about to find you two.”
“Oh?”
“What’s the matter?”
After taking another sip of cold water, Keldric, now clear-headed, summarized his conversation with Baron Volpen.
Jorgen’s face darkened upon hearing the mention of rock trolls, but a bright smile appeared when he heard about the generous reward and that Sir Werner would be joining them.
“Is it true? Sir Werner…”
“You know of Sir Werner?”
“Of course! Isn’t he Sir Werner, the ‘Raven’ of House Henzer?”
The fame of Sir Werner, the Raven Knight of House Henzer, was far greater than Keldric expected.
Looking back, even Hilmor, who lived in a remote village, knew of him.
“He’s achieved 48 victories in tournaments and joined the Holy Land recovery expedition. He’s a skilled and honorable knight.”
“Oh…”
Keldric quietly admired him.
If Werner was that renowned, it might seem odd that Keldric hadn’t known of him.
He continued to hear more details about Sir Werner from Jorgen.
Apparently, during the expedition, he dedicated his last tournament victory to a fallen comrade and mercifully released captured heretics.
Various tales of Werner’s deeds poured from Jorgen’s mouth, elevating Keldric’s impression of him.
If all that Jorgen said was true, Sir Werner was an exceptional person.
He was an honorable and compassionate knight, a rare breed in a chaotic age full of brutish warriors, and his strength was already proven.
“Sir Werner is quite impressive,” Keldric admitted.
“Ah… My apologies. I rambled on a bit.”
As Jorgen bowed his head in embarrassment, Keldric turned to look at Alisa, who sat beside him.
Alisa had been picking at her grilled salmon with little interest since Jorgen began praising Sir Werner.
“What do you think, Alisa?”
“About what, Sir?”
“About the rock trolls.”
Jorgen was already eager to go, spurred by the promise of a rich reward from Baron Volpen, leaving only Alisa’s approval.
Alisa absentmindedly touched her earlobe, her habit when deep in thought.
Inwardly, Keldric hoped Alisa would join them.
Although her magic left her exhausted for more than a day after one spell, it was still real magic.
While her spells were complex and heavily influenced by the environment, with enough preparation, they could make it work.
“The trolls aren’t going anywhere.”
According to Baron Volpen, the trolls were holed up in a riverside cave and rarely moved.
They only attacked wagons or boats transporting iron ore along the river but otherwise stayed put.
When Keldric added this explanation, Alisa, still fiddling with her earlobe, finally spoke up.
“If they’re staying in one spot… and there’s a fire nearby, it shouldn’t be too difficult.”
“So, that means?”
“I’ll follow your lead, Sir.”
“I’ll prepare the men as well.”
Despite any hesitation, both nodded readily. Having seen Keldric’s strength, they felt they had nothing to fear.
“I’ll coordinate the plan with Sir Werner and let you know the schedule.”
“Understood.”
“Oh, could you bring the captured bandits?”
“The bandits?”
Jorgen looked puzzled, but Alisa seemed to have guessed Keldric’s intention, showing a slightly disgusted expression.
“Jorgen, who owns the town of Belam?”
“That would be Baron Volpen… Ah!”
Though the commission came from Belam’s city council, the council members were essentially boasting about their power within a city that ultimately belonged to Baron Volpen.
“These bandits roamed Baron Volpen’s lands, so he’ll decide their fate.”
Keldric had no intention of dealing with the captured bandits, and returning them also addressed Baron Volpen’s concerns about local banditry.