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The troll, weaponless and confused, roared into the cavern. "Who? Who's there?"

But Kael remained invisible under his Disillusionment Charm. No matter how the creature searched, it found no trace of him.

"Petrificus Totalus!" A jet of white light shot from the darkness and struck the troll. Its body seized up, stiffening for a brief moment before it broke free of the spell's hold, its eyes now wide with alarm.

"Who are you? I smell you, you damned bug! Come out!"

"What? Is its magical resistance that strong?" Kael was surprised. He had dealt with the first five trolls so easily with a Shrinking Potion that he had begun to think them nothing special. Now, he had been caught off guard.

He fired off several more spells, but each one held the creature for only a few seconds before its innate resistance shrugged them off.

Seeing that magic was failing, Kael changed his approach. He silently drew a dagger from his belt and, with a flick of his wrist, sent it flying toward the troll. The blade was sharp and managed to pierce its thick scales, but the troll's muscle and bone were as hard as stone. The dagger lodged deep in its flesh, immovable.

"Aaargh! That hurts!" the injured troll bellowed, its voice shaking the cavern. "You despicable bug! I'll eat you!" It began grabbing boulders and hurling them blindly in every direction, trying to flush out its invisible attacker.

The brute's tactic was surprisingly effective. The flying rocks slammed against Kael's magical shield, the impact revealing his location.

A ferocious, hateful grin spread across the troll's face. It locked its eyes on the shimmering distortion in the air and swung a fist the size of a small boulder, anticipating the crunch of bone and flesh. The blow shattered Kael's shield with immense force, but to the troll's astonishment, there was nothing behind it. The punch met only empty air.

Before the creature could react, two daggers shot from the shadows with blinding speed, burying themselves in its most vulnerable points: its eyes. Black blood sprayed, and a deafening scream of agony echoed through the cave.

The blinded troll stumbled about like a headless fly. Kael seized the opening. "Locomotor Mortis!" The Leg-Locker Curse snapped the troll's ankles together, sending it crashing heavily to the ground.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Re-enacting Ron Weasley's famous takedown, Kael levitated the troll's own massive club and brought it smashing down on the back of the creature's head. Once was not enough, so he did it again. And again. Under the continuous blows, the troll finally fell silent and lay still. It was clear that against creatures with such high magical resistance, physical attacks were the most reliable solution.

As Kael finished his fight, Gandalf was concluding his own. The wizard had used Glamdring to sever the Achilles tendons of the other troll. Once it was crippled and on the ground, Gandalf leaped onto its chest and plunged the flaming sword deep into its heart, burning it to ash.

Having dispatched his opponent, Gandalf tossed the sword across the cavern. "Kael, catch!"

Kael caught the blade, its golden fire blazing. He jumped onto the unconscious troll, gripped the hilt with both hands, and drove the sword into its chest, releasing a torrent of flame. The troll convulsed once in a final, instinctive struggle, and then was gone.

After dealing with the two trolls, they briefly inspected the cave. Aside from a pile of bones, it was practically empty. There were differences even among trolls, it seemed. Kael silently pitied the poor creatures for their lack of treasure, and then they moved on. Before leaving, Gandalf used his magic to collapse the cave entrance, burying the bones and the trolls within.

They found two more caves. The first held a lone troll, even poorer than the last, who didn't even own a cooking pot. They dealt with it quickly and continued on.

But the next cave was different. It housed a full dozen trolls, the most they had yet encountered. This was not a simple den; it was a burgeoning society. The trolls had a clear division of labor and a distinct hierarchy, ruled over by a formidable leader.

This troll chief was even larger than the others, standing nearly eight meters tall. He sat upon a crude stone throne, a ten-meter-long iron warhammer resting at his side. He wore tattered, rusty armor and was attended by the other trolls. Along the cavern walls, cages carved from the rock itself held over a hundred human captives.

The prisoners were emaciated, their eyes numb and lifeless, like a herd of living dead. When a troll slopped a bucket of sticky, unidentifiable mush into a trough before them, they scrambled for it like mindless livestock.

The troll leader was clearly more intelligent than the others. They captured humans but didn't eat them immediately. Instead, they penned them like pigs, to be slaughtered as needed. To ensure a continuous supply of food, they even kept men and women together, forcing them to produce new offspring.

Seeing this, Kael and Gandalf's expressions grew grim. They had never encountered such intelligent trolls. If left unchecked, this leader could unite the entire Trollshaws and become a true Troll-King.

This time, they were far more cautious. A frontal assault was out of the question. After a brief discussion, Kael decided to use his old trick: potions. However, he was out of Shrinking Potion, so he chose the Sleeping Draught he had brewed previously.

But when Kael managed to sneak to the large cauldron and pour an entire bottle into the stew, the troll leader, in a display of greed, consumed the entire pot himself, leaving nothing for the others.

Tsk, Kael cursed inwardly. Eating alone, are you? Serves you right.

The troll chief, having ingested a massive dose, soon felt the effects. He slumped onto his throne and began to snore, the sound like rocks grinding together. The other trolls were unsurprised. They simply started a new pot, tossing in a pile of green worms and other foul-looking seasonings. This was their meal. The caged humans belonged to their leader, and none dared touch them, no matter how much they salivated. The chief was not only the strongest and smartest but also the most brutal. Any who had challenged his authority had long since become dust under his hammer.

Watching the eleven trolls scramble for their worm stew, Gandalf quietly asked, "Do you have any more of that potion?"

Kael smiled wryly and shook his head. He had brewed five types: a Swelling Solution, a Shrinking Potion, a Forgetfulness Potion, a Draught of Peace, and a Sleeping Draught. The shrinking and sleeping potions were gone. The others were useless here. What was he to do? Use the Swelling Solution to make them even bigger? Use the Forgetfulness Potion to make them forget their own names?

Wait, he thought, a sudden realization dawning. I almost forgot one!

He quickly pulled a vial of green liquid from his pocket.

(End of Chapter)

***

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