"I am Raven of Caria, son of Rennala, Queen of the Full Moon! I come in friendship!" Raven shouted in the Giant's tongue.
The two trolls froze, their massive iron stakes suspended mid-air.
"Human! Liar!" one troll huffed, its breath like a gale. "Trolls... no slaves!"
"I am no slave master," Raven replied. "In my country, trolls are not slaves."
"Nonsense. No other country. Only trees... Erdtree country," the troll spoke haltingly. It seemed it hadn't used the Giant's tongue in a long time—or perhaps hadn't spoken at all for ages. His speech was stuttered and clumsy, far less fluent than Raven's. "Liar!"
Raven drew the Sword of Night and Flame. The two trolls took a wary step back, raising their iron stakes threateningly.
"Do you still remember this flame? The Flame of the Giants! The fire of your ancestors," Raven said as a plume of fire surged from the blade. "The Giants forged this sword with that very flame and gifted it to the Carian Kingdom as a symbol of eternal friendship."
The two trolls exchanged a glance.
"Trolls... betrayed Giants," one said in a low, muffled voice, sounding profoundly dejected. "Giants... all dead. We... become slaves."
"If you were given another chance, would you still betray the Giants?"
Raven knew that history well. Because the Giants' Flame of Ruin posed a mortal threat to the Erdtree, the armies of the Golden Order had invaded the Mountaintops of the Giants, sparking a devastating war. Trolls were a subspecies of Giants—or rather, a smaller breed of Giant—who lived alongside them but were often bullied. When the war reached its peak, the trolls were lured by the honeyed words of the Golden Order's envoys and turned coat on the battlefield.
The Giants never expected to be betrayed by their own kin; caught in a pincer move, they were utterly crushed. After the war, every last Giant was hunted down and exterminated, but the Golden Order broke its promises to the trolls.
The Mountaintops were declared a forbidden land, and the trolls were driven from their homes to become slaves. Furthermore, because the flame within a troll's belly also posed a potential threat to the Erdtree, every troll had their abdomen hollowed out, their flame-producing organs cruelly removed.
"Betrayal... was tricked. Humans... broke word," the troll said. "Back then... should not have listened... to humans."
"After the War of the Giants, some trolls fled to Caria. They are free there; some were even knighted," Raven said, raising the Sword of Night and Flame high. "I am a Prince of Caria. Lower your weapons. I will not strip you of your freedom."
"But... they... let us go free. We... promised... to help them... fight," the troll said, pointing toward the Frenzied Flame cultists.
"They are madmen who only wish to use you!" Raven started to say, but he paused. By convincing the trolls to surrender, was he not also trying to use them? Was he not also asking them to fight for him? How was that truly different from what the cultists were doing?
"The village has already been breached. If you keep fighting, you will only die for nothing," Raven said. "Come to my side. I will treat you well. I will never break my word."
One troll lowered its iron stake. The other hesitated for a moment but eventually followed suit.
"Your fire... is our fire. Theirs... is not. We believe you."
Raven breathed a sigh of relief and sheathed the Sword of Night and Flame. "Excellent. Do you know where the leader of these Frenzied Flame cultists is? The leader of those who released you?"
"There. A knight. Strongest... hardest... very cold. Their head."
Raven looked in the direction the troll was pointing. It was the most prominent large building in the center of Windmill Village—perhaps it had once served as the village council hall.
"I'm going to deal with that leader. You stay here—no, come with me," Raven said. He worried that if he left them, the mercenaries might attack the two trolls.
The trolls nodded and prepared to set off empty-handed. It was only after Raven reminded them that they picked up their iron stakes from the ground.
"You... told me... to put it down," the troll said, sounding almost aggrieved.
"...That was my mistake. Keep them for now," Raven said helplessly, sprinting toward the council hall. The two trolls followed behind with massive, thundering strides.
The Frenzied Flame cultists were swarming toward the village gates, making a desperate last stand. The roar of Dragonbolt echoed continuously as Godwyn demolished another section of the outer wall, but the cultists threw themselves forward in waves. The sounds of self-immolating explosions were constant, stubbornly forcing the mercenaries back.
A few stray cultists noticed Raven's group and tried to intercept them, but Raven cut them down with Glintstone Pebbles as he ran. Before long, he stood before the doors of the council hall.
"Here, help me rip the entire roof off," Raven said, looking into the pitch-black interior.
The two trolls swung their iron stakes in wide arcs, the chains at the ends whistling through the air as they slammed into the roof. While the building looked sturdier than the thatched huts, it was still just a crudely made wooden structure. It stood no chance against the raw strength of the trolls; within a few strikes, the roof was shattered, and a large section of wooden planks collapsed inward.
A woman's cry for help rang out from inside.
"Wait!" Raven quickly ordered the trolls to stop.
He conjured a magical shield in his left hand and gripped the Sword of Night and Flame in his right. Instead of entering through the main door, he tracked the source of the cry, smashed through a side wall, and charged into the hall.
A Frenzied Flame cultist stood there, brandishing a small knife at a woman tied to the wall.
"If you won't embrace the Frenzied Flame, then die! Return to the Flame with me—Intruder!" the cultist shrieked. Before he could finish his sentence, Raven closed the distance and severed his spine with a single stroke.
Tossing the cultist's corpse aside, Raven looked at the silver-haired girl who was bound tightly. He cut the ropes around her wrists and ankles.
"Don't be afraid, I'm here to save you. Can you stand?" he asked, reaching out to support her. "Are you the only one held here? Are there any other captives?"
"They're all dead... my companions were all murdered," the silver-haired girl said, her head hanging low. "I'm the only one left. They tried to force me to convert."
"I see. You're a priestess of the Ancient Dragon cult," Raven noted, observing her attire. "Go out through that hole in the wall. Don't go far; find a place to hide for now. This Frenzied Flame outpost will be liberated shortly."
He gave the girl's hair a gentle pat, then stood up to face the center of the hall.
With the ceiling torn open, a shaft of natural light slanted into the room. In the center of that pillar of light, a warrior sat cross-legged, facing the main entrance as if deep in slumber.
"Are you the leader here? Sitting through the battle... are you preparing to surrender?" Raven raised his sword.
"Ah... so it is you I have been waiting for."
The warrior sighed deeply. Cracking his neck, he slowly rose from the floor, his heavy cloak dragging across the ground. The cloak appeared to be made of mountain bear skin, but its original white was long gone, stained by a mixture of dried blood and grime that left the fur matted and tangled.
Crackle... crackle... crackle...
Raven looked down to see a layer of pale white frost creeping toward the soles of his boots. A biting, frigid gale rushed toward him, and a whirlwind whipped up out of nowhere within the hall. On the ceiling, several splintered planks groaned and groaned before finally snapping, falling to the floor and shattering into shards of ice.
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Elden Ring: The Unborn One's Journey Through Elden Ring(68 Chapter - Ongoing)
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