Night had fallen, and only a few of the wandering trolls used torches to serve as a point of orientation for the rest of the group. They had covered a good distance, while the battle of Blood Tusk had only just begun hours behind them. The trolls were still unaware of this, however, and were not supposed to take a break, which was especially difficult for the whelps. Many of them were carried piggyback so that they could get a little sleep.

  Nira’theba, too, bravely carried her youngest daughter Ba’tha in a cloth loop in front of her chest, while her son Jakhan dozed on her back. She was just going to the group’s rearguard with new skins full of fresh water and a handful of mangoes. It was her job to take care of the warriors there, which is why she was all the more surprised that a certain giant was missing. “Where is Blood Tusk?” she asked as she distributed food and exchanged empty for full skins. “Did they send him to the very front?”

  “More like way behind the back,“ Zalun grumbled, burying his frustration in the juicy flesh of a mango. “On a march, into the darkness.”

  Nira’theba didn’t quite understand this cryptic statement. “What do you mean?” she murmured anxiously. “Have they appointed him as a scout now that Jeli’rhawa is back?”

  “I wish that were the case, and even that’s nonsense, because he’s not exactly the best scout.”

  “Since when do males talk so confusing?” Nira’theba replied, while she let out an annoyed snort. ”Where is he?”

  The two trolls with Zalun looked to the side with mixed feelings as well, while he answered. “I guess it doesn’t make any difference now, but still, don’t tell the others,” Zalun pleaded. “A huge horde of Redshards is hot on our trail and the others have persuaded Blood Tusk to face them alone to buy us time. ”

  Nira’theba’s face fell, and she had to cover her mouth with her hand. “What?!” she murmured, frightened. “We left him alone?!”

  “Sa’Thuk and Haki came up with this clever plan,” Zalun growled softly. “But it’s not like they forced him. Blood Tusk agreed to it.”

  “Haki,” Nira’theba murmured, foreboding. ‘Thank you for telling me that.” Immediately, the female sought her way to the front part of the wanderers, where she quietly confronted Haki. ”Is it true?!”

  Haki had not yet forgiven Nira’theba for her loose tongue, but she was far less angry than a few days ago. “What’s true?”

  “Did you leave Blood Tusk behind to die?”

  “Who told you that?” Haki asked rhetorically, drawing conclusions based on previous reactions. “Although I can imagine. You sound just like Djar’Ku.”

  “He knows about that, too?“ Nira’theba asked in surprise. ’Why did you do that?”

  Both spoke softly and the nocturnal jungle was noisy, but still Haki took the hut female by the arm and parked herself next to a tree with her. ’Shht!” she admonished. “You’ll cause a panic!”

  Ba’tha stretched wearily in the loop in front of Nira’theba’s chest, but the bundle slept peacefully on. “Please don’t tell me it’s because of his rejection,” she said, hoping it wasn’t about hurt pride.

  “It’s about our survival,” Haki asserted. In fact, that was one of her motives, but if everything had remained as it was before the collapse of her little lie, she would not have sent the giant to the slaughter so lightly. ”And it’s time for the tiki to reveal whether he was sent to us to protect our future.”

  “You mean to die for it...”

  “That’s what I meant by survival,” Haki sighed. She felt regret, which made her want to hold on to her bond with the hut female. “I wanted to tell you later, in case he doesn’t return.”

  “Do you really believe there’s a chance he’ll return to justify your decision?”

  “In the end, it wasn’t my choice,’ Haki noted tensely. “Sa’Thuk knows the way.”

  “But you advocated this path,” Nira’theba emphasized. She didn’t believe that the warrior had acted for the group out of noble motives, and she put that to the test . ”Will everyone who dares to approach him end up like this?

  “Please, don’t do me wrong...”

  “That was a simple question. Will the few females like me be punished for it later?” Nira’theba finally revealed. “Because he blessed my body with lust and warmth, again and again?”

  Haki had suspected it, but hearing it out loud increased her tension significantly. ’You and him...?”

  “Several times when we dismantled the camp at the ruin.”

  This fact made Haki hesitate between word and deed. Should she say something? Should she lash out like a fury? She kept looking away and away from Nira’theba before she just left.

  Redshard number 14 went down, where six dead wind-jackals were already lying.

  So far, Blood Tusk had not suffered any real injuries, except for a few graze wounds from blades and an arrow in his right upper arm.

  However, the still numerous Redshards had managed to push him back from the narrow initial passage with their constant pressure, and the first trolls were already behind him so that they could attack him from all sides.

  Still, Blood Tusk did not panic and breathed calmly through his nose. With constant movements, in a mixture of attack and defense, he kept a small area around himself free thanks to the range of his Bisento, while his ears listened.

  From each of the four directions, one Redshard attacked, three with spears and one with a sword. In addition, two Redshards threw javelins at the giant from the second row.

  Offense was now imperative, so that Blood Tusk could dive under the flying javelins and rush at one of the attacking spearmen before he was impaled from all sides. His Bisento was considerably longer, so he was able to pierce the Redsplinter’s chest first and he heaved him up. He hurled the body of his opponent at another spearman, and then he was able to cleave the remaining two attackers in succession with a single blow.

  Occasionally, Redshards tried to hit the gladiator with their bows, but their attacks were often uncoordinated. Either a single arrow was fired or a few in quick succession. Handy throwing axes were also used repeatedly.

  Despite the twilight and the many things that happened in seconds around Blood Tusk, hedodged many arrows or blocked them with his weapon, as well as the throwing axes. However, the sheer number of projectiles meant that a few arrows inevitably grazed the big target and, bang, he had another arrow in his thick upper arm, but for him that wasn’t even a scratch that he didn’t feel and completely ignored.

  The other spearman from before had picked himself up and attacked from behind. He was followed by two more Redshards from the right and two fast-approaching wind-jackals from the front.

  Blood Tusk drove the pommel of his Bisento back into his opponent’s stomach. In the same movement, he turned around and dealt the Redshard such a hard blow that his face almost burst open like a melon, scattering his fangs and teeth. The rest? Troll or wind-jackal? It made no difference, for Blood Tusks steel ripped out guts and he caught one of the jackals by the snout with his bare hand, smashing it onto the second animal.

  “What’s wrong with him?!” Si’sa growled uneasily. She had expected a quick victory, and yet this troll was killing off her trolls one by one. ”Come on! Overwhelm him!”

  Five Redshards attacked from the front at the same time, but they had already made that mistake at the beginning of the fight.

  It was perfect for Blood Tusk, who took a wide swing with his Bisento, slicing through the enemies from left to right in one fell swoop. He cut through his foes’ bodies as if they were nothing, and a copious fountain of blood landed on him.

  However, the giant had exposed his left side for a split second, and another throwing axe flew towards him.

  A fresh torrent of blood spurted into the night air, and as the red landed on the ground, so did an eye, along with a shattered war mask.

  The throwing axe had struck Blood Tusk, but his mask had taken most of the force, gouging through his left eye socket.

  “Ha!“ Si’sa gloated cruelly. ’You see? This beast is not invincible. Now he can barely see and will be easy prey.”

  Blood Tusk’s ears flicked and he turned his bloody face and good eye to the leader. ’Lost my eye a few times in the arena,” he said openly. It was not his way to talk in the middle of a fight, but he had learned how easily influenced jungle trolls were by words. “Doesn’t make any difference to me.”

  Si’sa furiously arched her eyebrows and she slapped her hand outwards. ‘Stupid talk!’ she roared. ’You’re already half dead!”

  “Half dead?’ Blood Tusk retorted resolutely. He didn’t notice it and had no intention of doing so, but the corners of his mouth lifted expectantly. The thrill of a real challenge, facing probable death and being partially blinded, unleashed a macabre, manic joy in him. “Now it’s getting interesting and fairer for you, hehehe.”

  The Redshards were extremely provoked by the statement and the dirty laughter. “Let him suffer to the end!” Si’sa ordered as a new wave of her trolls attacked.

  Spared from the heat of the fight, Djar’Ku walked thoughtfully among the ranks of the wanderers, although he was almost a bit too aloof and on his own. He knew better than almost anyone that the jungle knew no mercy and he had done questionable and devious things as a troll in his life. However, the fact that he had not been able to use his knowledge to prevent this absurd plan gnawed at the old warrior. He wondered how many Redshards Blood Tusk could slaughter before he had fallen? Were the enemies already close? Had he perhaps missed his last great battle and should have stayed with the arena trolls? Or could Haki be right? Was that perhaps the only reason why the giant had found his way to the wanderers in the first place? Or was it a renewed test of his worth? No, his last thoughts were just an excuse for Djar’Ku and he wasn’t afraid to think that way. In his opinion, it didn’t suit the gladiator, who knew nothing of the tiki, just as he did not let them dictate anything to him, and it was his own decision to fight for himself.

  The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “You’re thinking of going back, aren’t you?” a male voice asked from the side.

  Djar’Ku could see well enough, even in the dark of the jungle. “What would be the point?” he replied resignedly. “We can’t change anything anymore and we’d better prepare for the worst.”

  “Well, Jeli’rhawa hasn’t arrived with a warning yet,” Zalun said thoughtfully, as the scoutess looked for traces of the pursuers behind the wanderers again. ”If they had just overrun him, the Redshards wouldn’t be far away.”

  “He surely killed a lot and wounded just as many. Probably they are licking their wounds right now and that’s why they aren’t that close yet.”

  “I don’t know...” Zalun said. On the one hand, he wanted to hope, but on the other hand, it was his faith that spoke to him. ”When he saved us at the ruin, I saw what must have been the strongest troll I’ve ever seen in my life... and as thanks for his deed, that I may sleep next to my female for a little longer, the same warrior tells me to take care of a widowed female and her whelps. Any other troll would have demanded my services and loyalty forever, and rightly so.”

  “Are you really complaining that he didn’t use you?” Djar’Ku snorted with amusement. ”Or that he didn’t force you to face death with him?”

  “To be honest, I was hoping you would force us...”

  “...me?”

  “Yes, you,” Zalun nodded meaningfully. ’If you had said a word, I’m sure many warriors would have followed you, and even a large part of the rest. It’s better to stand together against the Redshards than to leave our savior there, because I’m not the only one who owes him a debt. We all do.”

  “And why do you need an old fool like me?’ Djar’Ku questioned. He still didn’t want the young to depend too much on experienced trolls like him. “You are strong and clever enough to speak up yourself.”

  “That would only have caused division,” Zalun shook his head. He didn’t see himself as so important and influential. “Some would have followed, some wouldn’t. My word doesn’t carry the same weight as yours.”

  “Words are a tricky thing,” Djar’Ku noted, thinking of his encounter with Ja’Jen. ‘The Yani priest said that even now there was still a little life in me and the Jatal of the Dark Sea apparently does not want me - not yet.’

  “And how does that fit with this situation? Do you think you’ll die if the Redshards catch up with us?”

  “Rather not. How could Yani not want an old troll like me, but demand someone like Blood Tusk into his realm now? That makes no sense,” Djar’Ku said with conviction. Now that he was thinking more about the meeting with the Yani priest, he couldn’t believe that it would all end like this. ”Even Ja’Jen said that Blood Tusk was life and death, special and ordinary. He has sent so many trolls to Yani already and the echo of the dark Jatal is so strong within him that it will last well into the future and he will send many more trolls to Yani. So could it really be... one troll victorious alone against a small superior force?”

  Zalun grinned. “I suppose next you’ll be saying we should go back.”

  “I will,” Djar’Ku agreed. He stopped to put a hand on the younger warrior’s and family man’s shoulder. ’You have more than one task though and one of them is the debt you ow Blood Tusk. You have to stay here.”

  “Are you trying to insult me?” Zalun asked disapprovingly.

  “I need a troll like you, right here,” Djar’Ku emphasized. ”And if he really survived, I will return with him, and if not... I will face the Red Shards alone, too, to buy time for the rest.”

  “I’ll do as you say,” Zalun agreed, but his tone revealed that he wasn’t taking the old man’s offer lying down. ”But only if you can give me a better reason than helping Blood Tusk. I’m in his debt. What about you? And don’t tell me it’s regret. That doesn’t count.”

  “I think I am already too old for remorse, it doesn’t help me anymore,” Djar’Ku laughed, but he didn’t just want to know if there was something to Ja’Jen’s words. The old warrior had given his word. ”No, I made a deal with him and if he dies, how can I keep my part of it? At best, by trying to complete his duty and protecting our group.”

  Another arrow struck Blood Tusk in the left thigh. Nevertheless, he leaped forward to strike down the next attacker and only then pulled the arrow out in one piece with a jerk.

  For the moment, the Redshards paused, and not for the first time. The giant’s resistance began to seep into some bones and minds.

  Si’sa was not completely immune to this either, but she loudly played it down. “Don’t stop now!” she growled vengefully. “This beast must be a test from the tiki! No troll could slaughter a good half of our mighty warriors and still stand! He will be a worthy offering to our tiki!”

  “Half?” Blood Tusk replied, sounding a little under the weather but still full of fight. ”I thought I’d already sliced more of you up like wild boars.”

  “Don’t fall for his talk! He’s about to collapse! ATTACK!”

  “About to collapse?” Blood Tusk couldn’t deny that he had sustained quite a few injuries to his body and was bothered by a few arrow wounds. The missing eye? A small setback, but he wasn’t finished yet.

  The Redshards, however, apparently really thought so and just didn’t stop, relentlessly attacking the giant, just to maybe inflict another wound on him before they died or even be brutally struck down by him without any success.

  Everything became a single repetition, in which Blood Tusk soon perceived the world around him as if he were underwater. He was facing the bloodiest and most difficult fight of his existence so far, and yet everything gradually became monotonous for him as he took one life after another. On top of that, there wasn’t even anyone, except for a bird, watching him and this monotonous killing involuntarily gave him time to think. In the arena, everything had always made sense and he had been busy with something, so he had neither to think nor to really decide for himself. Now the question arose in his mind – had he ever fought in the arena for the screaming masses of faces he had never seen before and who had become a single grimace for him already in his childhood? No, none of them meant the slightest thing to him. He had always only been concerned with winning, with proving his strength, and because that was all he knew. Had that changed? No, it was still the same, but why did he need the arena for that? Why did such strange thoughts come to him now, when he was otherwise sure of himself? Was it because of Zalun? Did all the troll chatter ultimately affect Blood Tusk as well? The giant knew exactly what he wanted and Zalun said it well.

  A Redshard made it through the gladiator’s defense and plunged its spear into his right stomach area, but despite all its force, he couldn’t even drive half of his weapon through the body of the ancestor.

  Blood Tusk gave the attacker a crushing headbutt and then yanked out the spear, which he threw at an archer at random. Neither this blow nor the ongoing battle stopped Blood Tusk’s now cotton-wool-packed acoustic perception of the world, but the flesh wound in his muscle-toned belly made him think of Zalun’s statement. After all, Blood Tusk was suffering wounds, shedding blood and sweat in a death struggle, just to be able to return to the puck arena to do exactly the same thing. He proved his strength here so that he could finally do it again in the arena, but this realization only raised a new question – if in the end it was all about that for him, what did he need the arena for? He didn’t realize that he had broken out of his learned, otherwise eternal same rut long enough, so that a new environment like the jungle at least didn’t seem like a foreign body anymore and the arena didn’t seem like the only real thing. For example, it wasn’t so bad that he could choose and hunt his own food. Besides, he had taken a liking to wild peppers, which the females mixed with meat in pans, as well as numerous other dishes, and being able to choose his own females to mate with, without waiting for the pucks, was like a fight, or rather a hunt, in which he had to win. Thoughts!, he snapped inwardly. You’re annoying! For a moment, he leaned on his bisento and let his body hang a little limply, breathing through his nose with his remaining eye closed.

  Everything around the gladiator became completely still and everything seemed to move more slowly, but still a new javelin, arrows and charging Redshards came towards him.

  Blood Tusk knew there was only one thing that could overshadow his thoughts now. He opened his eye and it was filled with only one meaning – death! The wounded giant began to rage, regardless of his wounds, without any real strategy and yet in full command of his senses. He split the body of every opponent with a clean, single blow: horizontally, vertically, from the left shoulder to the right hip, twice or three times, a leg or an arm and then the head from the neck, it was a slaughter.

  This sudden offensive frenzy made some Redshard run away in fear.

  “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”, Si’sa shouted, beside herself, while she tried to stop some of the fleeing and push them back. ”YOU’RE DESECRATING OUR TRIBE!”

  Blood and innards sprouting was all that counted for Blood Tusk now. It made his opponents scream loudly enough, just as he roared with his bestial troll voice, so that he could no longer hear his own thoughts and he lost himself completely in the frenzy of the fight. He would have plenty of time to deal with troublesome thoughts and until then he would simply kill everyone standing in front of him. No more, no less.

  The morning mist had settled over and between the trees. Fresh dew was dripping onto the ground and served as a watering hole for insects and small animals in puddles.

  Contrary to his choice, which he had not communicated to Sa’Thuk and handed over into Zalun’s hands, Djar’Ku was no longer alone after hours of marching.

  Jeli’rhawa had spotted the old warrior on his way back and joined him, as the pursuit by the Redshards had not materialized. She had also become curious about the why and the place where the giant had been left behind was almost reached. Suddenly, the arm of Djar’Ku rose in front of her, causing her to stop, and the trolls were presented with an incredible picture of the massacre.

  Over a distance of 150 to 200 meters, there was a trail of whole, dead trolls or parts of their bodies. However, the many limbs, innards and blood could not hide the fact that almost all of the corpses were from the 82 Redshards and their 28 wind-jackals.

  After all these decades, after everything Djar’Ku had seen and done in his life as a warrior, the blood froze in his veins and he couldn’t believe what he saw, even though it was right in front of him.

  “Did-did he do that?” Jeli’rhawa swallowed anxiously and reached into the old warrior’s arm for protection. ”R-really all by himself?”

  Only very slowly and with a watchful eye, Djar’Ku continued. “I would love to say that our ruse with the other tribe worked after all,” he said doubtfully, while passing the dead. Some had been smashed or impaled on the rocks and some trolls were dangling on broken branches. “But there are only corpses of Redshards, none others.”

  “Not even his... where is he?”

  Djar’Ku didn’t know how many Redshards the giant had faced. Had he killed so many of them that only a handful had survived to overpower him in the end? Had they taken his body and perhaps stopped hunting the wanderers because of their extreme losses and sheer fear?

  Look!” Jeil’rhawa said excitedly. ”There!”

  No, Blood Tusk’s body was still here and although it was covered in many and sometimes severe wounds, he sat in a surreal, peaceful and slumped position, as if he was sleeping, with his weapon in his arm in the hollow of a tree. On his shoulder rested a seemingly equally resting, but unharmed Kriz’kriz.

  “Blood Tusk!” Djar’Ku shouted before hurrying to the giant with his companion.

  Kriz’kriz startled and immediately fluttered up the tree. “Wah, you old fart, you scared me!’ she cawed grimly.

  “Oh, you better tell us something important, you flying meal!” Djar’Ku countered. He and Jeli’rhawa had bandages and makeshift medicine with them, but it wasn’t intended for so many and such serious injuries. ”What happened here?!”

  “Well, look around you,” Kriz’kriz replied matter-of-factly. ”I saw everything, nargh. The whole night, until the sky slowly dawned. Then he hammered the last one against that tree and sat down slowly. I’m not sure if he’s still alive, because then he breaths so calmly that I can’t feel it.”

  While Jeli’rhawa spread some of the natural disinfectant on the worst wounds, without the giant reacting to the normally burning sensation, Djar’Ku gently shook the gladiator. “Has Yani taken you after all?!” he murmured, now incredulous in a different way. Kill all enemies single-handedly and then die?! No, Djar’Ku couldn’t imagine that. “Come on! Show us how bad your trollish is!”

  In a fairy tale, the hero would have now made a comment to the living, but not Blood Tusk. Bubbles blubbered out of his mouth before he coughed up a strong gush of blood and then gave off a subtle snoring-like breathing.

  “Now I understand why Haki felt so special,“ Djar’Ku murmured to himself.

  “Yes, blessed be the tiki,” Jeli’rhawa agreed devoutly.

  “Still, that was no reason to leave him here, and I’ll knock that into her head when we get back.”

  “But how are we supposed to do that?” Jeli’rhawa asked. She was bandaging the first wounds, but they made many things impossible for her. “He shouldn’t be alive anymore, and he shouldn’t be able to move at all, and even if we were to carry him, the two of us alone would never manage to transport him properly to the group.”

  “Mhpf, you’re right,’ Djar’Ku sighed ungut. “But we can’t stay here either, nor can we care for him in a nearby hole for weeks. We have to do something.”

  That something was closer than the old warrior could have imagined. On the same path the Redshards had taken, something approached that had an extremely keen interest in the events that had taken place here, and especially in Blood Tusk.