Forest Troll

In the Gladiatorial Arena's meeting room, The Bald Man, Scarface, Fatty, and The One-Armed Man had gathered to discuss something.

Scarface said smugly, "Tomorrow, Count Sarik will be bringing quite a few noble lords to watch the matches. The Gladiatorial Arena has to put on its biggest event—the Monster Hunt Battle! That Forest Troll has been raised for half a month already. It's time for it to make an appearance!"

The Bald Man looked grim as he protested, "The elite gladiators haven't recovered from their injuries. We only have a dozen or so advanced gladiators. There's no way they can beat that monster! Hold some other matches instead!"

This time, Scarface did not back down. He continued to insist on his opinion. A group of noble lords would be coming to watch tomorrow, so the Monster Hunt Battle had to be held! The Bald Man's objections were useless.

Fatty said nothing. He did not care about any of that and only silently considered tomorrow's betting odds. Noble lords were wealthy people. Tomorrow would be a huge business opportunity, and they absolutely could not mess it up.

After silently listening to The Bald Man and Scarface argue for quite a while, The One-Armed Man finally rendered his decision. "The Monster Hunt Battle must be held tomorrow. The noble lords did not come to watch commoners play-fighting!"

Several of the noble lords coming to watch tomorrow were bloodline-awakened powerhouses. Ordinary people fighting each other could not stir their interest at all!

However, The One-Armed Man still took the gladiators' injuries into account and added, "Prepare some good weapons for the gladiators tomorrow. Also, do not give that troll a weapon. Let it enter the arena barehanded."

"I don't want the Gladiatorial Arena's gladiators to lose to a troll in front of a group of noble lords. That would be utterly humiliating!"

The One-Armed Man held the highest status in the Gladiatorial Arena. Once he made the decision, there was no arguing against it. Neither The Bald Man nor Scarface said anything further.

The Bald Man left the meeting room with a heavy heart. No matter how good their weapons were, could a dozen or so advanced gladiators really defeat a Forest Troll?

A Forest Troll stood three meters tall and weighed nearly five hundred kilograms. Its strength was almost ten times that of a human, yet it possessed agility completely disproportionate to its enormous body.

Most terrifying of all was the Forest Troll's regeneration speed. No matter how severe its injuries were, it could recover quickly. Even if all four limbs were completely severed, they could grow back.

The only way to kill a troll was to constantly wear down its life force. With only a dozen or so advanced gladiators, even if they won, probably only a few would survive.

At that thought, The Bald Man stopped walking and made an important decision. He turned and headed toward Harrot's ward.

The Bald Man entered Harrot's ward and immediately asked, "Are you willing to challenge the troll with me?"

Harrot was somewhat dumbfounded. He had been engrossed in the novel Knight Abin when The Bald Man suddenly burst in and interrupted him. He had no idea what was going on.

After they talked for a while, Harrot understood the full story and agreed to The Bald Man's request.

When he had first transmigrated, the Forest Troll had sent him flying with a single blow from its club. Saying he was not afraid of trolls would be bullshit, but The Bald Man was willing to enter the arena personally. If Harrot did not help, could he still call himself a brother?

Harrot believed that with the two great legendary gladiators, himself and The Bald Man, fighting together—The Bald Man was publicly acknowledged, while Harrot had bestowed the title upon himself—and more than a dozen advanced gladiators backing them up, a mere troll would be no problem!

As long as the gladiators won in the end, even if he was unfortunate enough to be punched to death by the troll, the system's protection would still allow him to revive from the brink of death. The troll could not possibly ignore the other dozen gladiators just to keep beating his corpse, could it?

The Bald Man was deeply moved. He wrapped Harrot in an embrace, tears glinting at the corners of his eyes, and shouted, "Brother! I fucking knew I hadn't misjudged you! Don't worry, tomorrow will be your last gladiatorial match. Once it's over, I'll recommend you to Count Sarik!"

"You don't need to worry about tomorrow's fight. I'll have someone prepare the best weapons. I'll be the main force, and you just need to help cover the other gladiators."

With Harrot's support, The Bald Man's confidence surged. He straightened up and took Harrot with him toward the Training Ground, intending to rehearse tomorrow's battle plan.

When the advanced gladiators first heard that they would be hunting a troll tomorrow, they all looked terrified. But once they heard that Harrot and Boss Bald Man would also be entering the arena, they immediately became full of confidence and began studying the battle plan.

Soon, the next day arrived. The Gladiatorial Arena was packed with spectators early in the morning. The Monster Hunt Battle was incredibly popular.

Count Sarik also took his seat in the VIP section with a group of noble lords. The One-Armed Man was managing operations in place of The Bald Man, while Scarface eagerly introduced the gladiatorial arrangements to the nobles.

Before the main event, many warm-up gladiatorial matches had been arranged, including contests between official gladiators and chaotic melees involving more than a dozen people.

These matches would normally have been quite popular, but today, not to mention the noble lords, even the ordinary spectators had little interest in them.

Before long, Count Sarik instructed Scarface, "Go tell Hodri that the other matches should be postponed. Put on the main event next!"

"Yes, Count. I'll go right away!" Scarface hurried off after receiving the order.

A nobleman who resembled Sarik greatly sat beside him. Watching Scarface jog away, he said meaningfully to Count Sarik, "Using such a stupid scapegoat must be pretty convenient, huh?"

Sarik answered calmly, "It is quite convenient, but it is about time to throw him out. If I keep holding him, he'll dirty my hands."

The young nobleman who had asked the question snorted coldly and frowned, saying nothing more. He disapproved of Count Sarik's methods.

The other nobles in the VIP section saw the minor conflict between the two but did not meddle. Both Viscount Marcus and Count Sarik were sons of the Old Marquis, so supporting either one would not earn them any favor.

After the match below ended, the host loudly announced, "The next match is—the Monster Hunt Battle!"

The spectators immediately erupted into excited cheers. The host continued his introduction. "Today's stars are the elite gladiator team of our Gladiatorial Arena, including the Undying God of War, Harrot, and the Death Archon, C! R! E! O! N!"

After the host's introduction, The Bald Man led Harrot and the others into the arena platform amid the spectators' cheers. The Bald Man was the Gladiatorial Arena's undefeated legend, and every spectator had heard of his reputation.

The gladiators entered together. Aside from The Bald Man and Harrot, the other gladiators all carried halberds and were equipped with javelins.

Harrot wielded a large sword of refined steel. It weighed a full fifteen kilograms, and its blade was extremely sharp.

The Bald Man was even more ferocious, carrying a gigantic double-edged axe on his shoulder. Harrot had weighed the axe before, and it was over thirty kilograms—truly frightening.

Those fierce generals in Romance of the Three Kingdoms might have wielded weapons weighing thirty-five or forty kilograms, or even more than fifty, at a moment's notice, but first, a jin during that era was only 250 grams, and second, mounted combat and combat on foot were entirely different concepts.

With his strength of 21 points, Harrot could wield a fifteen-kilogram greatsword perfectly. Anything heavier would begin to affect his performance.