The noise of the exploding fire and the fierce battle cries of the many trolls were finally enough to draw Khojun’s eyes in that direction, and though he couldn’t see anything yet because of the jungle, he took a handful of warriors by the hand. “You five! Come with me!” he ordered, and he ran ahead with his greatsword drawn.
One of Dok’Thal’s fireballs landed dangerously close to his allies and the force of the explosion threw several trolls back, with his throws at the fleeing being far more targeted and claiming several victims.
Sa’Thuk turned around in a rage. “Spirits!” he exclaimed. “A shaman!”
“The last thing we needed now!” Djar’Ku snarled, straining as he pushed his blade against the sword of a particularly strong Baldslayer and could barely hold it against him.
“I have to help them! Can you handle it on your own?!”
“You were just holding me back anyway – go!“ Djar’Ku said grumpily, and the future jatal ran towards the incipient mini- inferno. At that moment, Djar’Ku was pushed back very roughly by his opponent and he rolled through the dust.
“Bad mistake, you dried-up mummy,” laughed the bulky bald-headed thug. He was a head taller and twice as broad. “How do you expect to beat me alone?!”
Djar’Ku clumsily pushed himself back onto his legs. “Without my sword in my hand,’ he lied provocatively. He dropped his weapon and presented his hands as a distraction while wrapping his bare foot with the rope on the ground.
“Are you kidding me?!” the Baldsalyer thug grumbled, offended, and advanced with his sword. ”Old bastard!”
It took all the strength Djar’Ku could muster, but as soon as he had wrapped his foot sufficiently with the rope, he kicked forward with all his might.
The surprised slayer tried to block the attack, but it didn’t hit him at all, as the sword’s curved underside flew between his legs.
While his weapon was still hovering above the ground, Djar’Ku grabbed the rope and pulled it back as hard as he could. This caused the curved underside of the steel to cut through the Baldslayers intimate area and get stuck there. The enormous pain forced the powerful troll to his knees, so that Djar’Ku only had to rip his battle-sword out of him to finish him off, but what had it achieved for him? The old warrior was at the end of his tether and no matter where he looked, he saw only chaos and fire.
Grass, bushes and trees were on fire and Dok’Thal started throwing lightning and sending small tornadoes. But none of this was directed at the wanderers, and it flew far over the clearing.
Not only had Khojun and his five warriors appeared there, but the reinforcements promised by Zu’ji also entered the field. 40 additional Riverfangs swarmed out, while the short but powerful lightning struck next to them and the small tornadoes took a few of them off their feet. The majority of them made it to the wanderers and Venomsankes, however, and engaged them in combat.
Tu’kesa had no choice but to act, for she knew that even a shaman was not omnipotent. “Unleash our beast!” she commanded with a tight swing of her arm. “And everyone else, follow me! We’re going after the giant now!”
So Djar’Ku now saw the vision that Ja’Jen had described to him. However, the old warrior saw no waves and puny elephants in between: Venomsnakes, Riverfangs and the remaining Baldslayers ran towards each other from three directions and in the middle of it all, completely scattered by fire and fighting, was the other half of the wanderers. What should Djar’Ku do, or what could he still do? He suddenly felt dizzy and slightly black before his eyes. He sank to his knees and clutched his chest, feeling his heart beating clearly and painfully and hearing it in his head. Had his time come? Was the dark Jatal here of all times?
That was a question that did not yet arise for Nira’theba. The hut-femalet had left her whelps in the safety of Ma’rhya and, despite weak knees, had run across the bridge with some other trolls to help the rest. She, however, wanted to see Blood Tusk first.
The gladiator was lying peacefully on his stretcher, as if he had been torn out of the whole bloody event, and no one paid him any attention.
Only Nira’theba came to him, but she was not even close to being able to pull the giant’s weight, no matter how desperately she tried.
In addition, a brother driven by revenge now approached. “What... is that?” Khojun asked, utterly disappointed.
Nira’theba was terrified and immediately turned her back to Blood Tusk, spreading her arms wide and looking like a trapped wildcat.
“That... is supposed to have killed my brother?” Khojun added with slightly trembling lips. No, he had seen the arts of this unclean troll. Whatever had done this to his enemy must have been overpowering, but in the end he didn’t care. “Get out of here, female. This is my prey and I’m taking it with me.” Khojun would not make it easy for himself and the unclean one and would not kill him quickly. He wanted to take him with him, even nurse him back to health and then let him suffer for a long time before avenging his brother. The strange female in his way didn’t bother Khojun at all, and even when she lunged at him, he pushed her with a kick aside without breaking a sweat. “And now... you finally belong to me...” the champion murmured longingly. He reached out for the stretcher, but out of nowhere, a kind of heartbeat pierced his ears and he paused. What had he just heard? It didn’t seem to come from him, and an eerie, briefly frightening shiver ran down his spine. Fear, he hadn’t felt that in a long time, and following his warning instincts, the champion slowly turned his head.
Between the fire and the smoke, there stood a troll, a very young and belligerent-looking troll. He exuded a presence that no one would want to mess with lightly, and the blurry figure created by the heated mirages of the fire had glowing red, demonic eyes.
Was this the price Khojun had to pay? Did the tiki themselves not want to hand him over to the impure without further ado, or had the herbalist witch been right with her warning? It doesn’t matter, the champion thought to himself and prepared his oversized sword. “You want this troll? Then come and get me!”
Suddenly, the unknown young troll was in the air in front of the 2.75-meter-tall Riverfang and he kicked him in the face with full force. The strength of the stranger was so overwhelming that he sent the champion crashing into a few other Riverfangs.
Still struggling with the pain from the kick to her stomache, Nira’theba slowly crawled over to Blood Tusk and stared fearfully at the stranger.
“Get Jeli’rhawa and Zalun,” the stranger said. ”Get him and the others out of here at last.”
Who was that? Who was Nira’theba looking at? He didn’t appear to be an enemy, and although the voice was so young, it seemed familiar. “Djar... Ku? Is that you?”
“Who else?” Djar’Ku replied. It really was him, and the formerly young appearance seemed to have been a mirage of the fire. “I’ll keep everyone away from you, but hurry.”
“But how, I,” stuttered Nira’theba and she blinked several times. Only now did her eyes begin to see the old warrior she knew again. ’I’ll get them!”
“Good child,” said Djar’Ku, who was moving towards the recovering Khojun and his warriors. Djar’Ku didn’t know what was suddenly wrong with him. Not only had all the pain left his body and his strength had returned completely. A memory was burning inside him, a long forgotten memory, and it was becoming more than that. He felt like the young, untamed warrior he had been many, many years ago, and he wouldn’t question how for a second. Instead, Djar’Ku attacked his enemies with such tremendous speed that he was able to knock out the Riverfang champion’s left eye with the first swing of his sword and slit the bellies and throats of several other Riverfangs within seconds.
“Nargh,” croaked Kriz’kriz, who was looking along her master’s outstretched arm. ”Aren’t you influencing the vision?”
Ja’Jen had long since secured a good vantage point for the events, high on the rock formations. From here, he had used his voodoo powers a few moments ago to imbue Djar’Ku with a whiff of Yanis’s death and the irrepressible strength of U’Zon. “After the gladiator made such a generous gift to the Jatal of the Dark Sea and I was allowed to perform the consecration, I still owed the wanderers something. We are even now,” Ja’Jen replied, eerily amused, and he shuffled over to a cracked coconut. ’And who, if not the old man who has returned to the gladiator, deserves a gift the most?”
“You are far too generous,’ Kriz’kriz complained. ”Great battle.”
“And it will get even bigger,” Ja’Jen said, when he saw a new monster.
Trees were knocked over regardless of the consequences, and a gigantic, five-meters-tall ogre stomped along behind the rows of Venomsnakes. The one-eyed beast had been their secret weapon and it used a large tree trunk as a club. With it, it swept one Riverfang after another out of the way. The spears, throwing axes and arrows that rained down on the beast had no effect on it.
The unexpected effect of this attack more than benefited the wanderers. What was left of the Venomnakes was carried away by the brutal moment and they followed the marauding ogre, who kept the Riverfangs busy. This allowed more wanderers to run to the protected crossing.
However, Zalun, Jeli’rhawa and Haki were not yet among them. “We have to give everyone cover!” Said Haki. “It’s almost done!”
“You three!” Nira’theba called, relieved. ’Hey!”
“Where did you come from?!’ Haki asked, stunned. ’What are you doing here?!”
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“Making sure everyone makes it,” Nira’theba said, completely out of breath, but the adrenaline in her veins worked wonders. ”Help me pull the stretcher! I can’t do it alone!”
Zalun had completely forgotten the gladiator and looked for him with his eyes. “Take us to him!” he nodded before Haki or Jeli’rhawa could answer.
“This way!” Nira’theba pointed the way. ’There he is, still unharmed!”
“Unharmed,” Zalun murmured crisply. He kept an eye on the surroundings while the rest took over the stretcher together. “And they say females have no sense of humor.”
“Not funny.”
“Then don’t make jokes,” Zalun replied. Thanks to his keen senses, he noticed three Venomsnakes, one of which was a Tu’kesa, approaching this position and he raised his spear and shield. “Time to go! Move your lazy feet!”
Together, the three females were able to lift the giant with the stretcher, and they walked as fast as they could.
As a warning, Zalun threw his spear, killing one of the Venomsnakes, but the pursuers only became faster, and Zalun switched to his scimitar. The females didn’t pay any attention to him, so he stopped to buy them more time.
“Out of my way!” hissed Tu’kesa, who was wielding two single-handed swords. She swung both weapons in an X-shaped motion, but it was in vain.
Suddenly, Sa’Thuk emerged from behind Zalun, who crushed the two surprised opponents with his iron club, which was soaked with blood and innards. The two males looked at each other, marked and fleeced by the fight, without exchanging a word. Instead, they immediately fell back into their fighting poses, because a few scattered Baldslayers ran towards them.
Meanwhile, Khojun was extensively occupied with the extremely vitalized Djar’Ku, without his missing eye hindering him. It must have been at least one high-summer since the champion had fought such a dangerous opponent, and he no longer understood the world. How could this old warrior fight with such agility and strength? And the thoughts of Khojun were not exaggerated.
Djar’Ku was like an evil spirit from beyond the Dark Sea. In this moment of chaos, he fought as he once could at the height of his life, and in addition to that, he had the accumulated experience of many years. The only thing Djar’Ku tried to avoid was crossing the blade with the Riverfang for too long, because in pure strength the big troll was clearly superior to him.
“Who are you?”, Khojun growled impatiently and with frustration. ”Did you squeeze this filthy flesh out of your loins and that’s why you’re protecting it so fiercely?!”
“I rather protect you from him,” Djar’Ku warned darkly. ’You can’t even beat me. How dare you dream of conquering the Butcherer of a hundred souls?”
Khojun tried again and again to get his opponent into a cross-cut of blades, but he didn’t succeed. ’A hundred souls? What nonsense are you talking about?!”
“It’s simple – he killed one hundred trolls all by himself.”
“Liar!”
“I saw the piles of corpses. Who do you think did this to him?”
“SHUT UP!” Khojun roared furiously. The stranger’s doubt in his strength infuriated him, and he fell into an extremely offensive rage.
Djar’Ku had to be careful as hell not to get hit. One blow from that huge sword and he would be cut into pieces.
The ground, on the other hand, was not cut into pieces but broken when Dok’Thal transformed his power into a shockwave that rushed through part of the ground like a tidal wave.
This wave of destruction caught Blood Tusk and its riders just before they reached the passageway. Earth and stone were hurled into the air and landed everywhere, creating a dusty haze.
It was impossible to see who was where, but Haki was the first to pull herself together and push up from the ground, covered in scrapes. She stumbled through the dust and debris, looking for the stretcher or anyone, until she found the unconscious Nira’theba. The hut female was buried under a few chunks of earth, but she was still moving and didn’t seem too badly injured. However, Haki hesitated to help her. The thrill of battle, the fear of death, the humiliation of days ago, the theft of her friend. Haki had so many things running through his mind at once.
“Hello?!” Jeli’rhawa called from somewhere with a cough. ”Nira? Haki? Where are you?!”
Haki looked in the direction of the calls and then back at Nira’theba. Her heart was beating so fast that it hurt her own flesh. “I’m here!” Haki reported, and she left Nira’theba lying where she was. “Where’s the stretcher?!”
“Here with me!” Jeli’rhawa waved. “Have you seen Nira’theba?”
“No,” Haki lied, offended. ’She could be anywhere here or even completely buried.”
Jeli’rhawa didn’t want to leave anyone behind, but she knew that the situation left no room for maneuver. ’Then may the tiki embrace her. Help me! The stretcher is broken and we have to carry him like this.”
“Hopefully he will thank us,“ Haki murmured, filled with the belief that it was meant to be so. He would be hers, all hers, even though the two females had the greatest difficulty slipping under the giant’s arms and finally dragging him over the bridge.
“That still wasn’t enough for you?” Dok’Thal said to himself. He kept a close eye on the trolls and the goal of his mission while he began to channel magical winds. Suddenly, an arrow hit him in the shoulder and interrupted his concentration. “WHO DARES?”
The shot had come from Mejhek, and with him, other trolls shot their arrows at the enemy shaman.
Without the element of surprise, however, Dok’Thal repelled the arrows with the help of crushing winds. At the same time, he began to create a whirlpool of flames around himself, which grew rapidly. “I will wipe you all out at once, like an insignificant wart!”
With the courage of desperation, the wanderers continued to shoot, but their arrows were no match for the shaman’s power.
Suddenly, a bird swooped down on Dok’Thal and attacked his head repeatedly with sharp claws, tearing off his half-mask. “What’s the point of this?! Get out of here, you filthy beast!” he swore, enraged, because the attack broke his focus and the flaming vortex.
Kriz’kriz besieged the shaman, together with the arriving undead birds of Ja’Jen.
“They are evil spirits!” Dok’Thal said, sensing the unnatural energies in the animals as a shaman. ”This is a sign! We are cursed! All Venomsankes, retreat! Retreat!”
There weren’t many Venomsnakes left anyway, but they still had their ogre. It continued to rage and swung at the Riverfangs again. In the midst of its attack, a single blow from Khojun’s giant sword cut through the beast’s forearm, and the champion followed up immediately. When he landed on his feet again, he chopped off one of the ogre’s legs, causing it to fall to the ground in agony. “Don’t let these vermin escape!” he shouted to the Riverfangs and he raised his sword to the crossing. “Catch them or I’ll kill you all myself!”
Blood Tusk was almost on the other side of the gorge and with the exception of Sa’Thuk, Zalun, Djar’Ku and the only gradually awakening, undiscovered Nira’theba, no one was left in the danger zone.
“Let’s go to the other side,” said Sa’Thuk, who was now quite battered. “If they follow us, we’ll push them off the bridge.” The trolls nodded and joined the others.
Meanwhile, Nira’theba woke up properly and tried to crawl away from the pressing boulders. ”Help!”
The three warriors had covered half the distance on the bridge when they heard the scream. “Was that Nira’theba?!” Zalun asked, but he couldn’t see the female anywhere.
“Please, I’m buried!” Nira’theba cried, tearfully. ”Help me!”
“It’s too late!” Sa’Thuk growled. ’We can’t go back and risk everything for a female!”
“You don’t have to,” Djar’Ku replied confidently. ”I’ll hold them off and you can save a good female.”
“No, you w-!”
Djar’Ku didn’t even let the futurejJatal finish and he ran back again, although a dozen Riverfangs and Khojun were approaching from the side. Djar’Ku had neither doubts nor fear of so many opponents. Much more, he was completely sure of one thing, although he still felt like a young warrior - this would be the last time he could fight like this and he would make it memorable. There was no one left he had to take into consideration and now he could give full vent to his rage and teach his enemies the meaning of fear. He couldn’t kill every Riverfang, but just as he held Khojun at bay, he did the same with several of his warriors. To them, Djar’Ku was like an emissary of Yani herself, a dark spirit that leaped between the flames and reaped souls in a torrent of blood.
Even the wanderers, including Sa’Thuk and Zalun, began to feel their blood run cold at the sight of this battle. Zalun, however, had made a promise to Bluood Tusk and he was determined to keep it. “There she is!” he said, and immediately he and Sa’Thuk began to clear the earth of Nira’theba. “Can you walk?”
The dirty female weakly shook her head. ”I don’t think so.”
“Then the primitive way it is!“ Zalun decided. Like a marauder, he threw Nira’theba over his shoulder and ran off with her.
“That’s enough, Djar’Ku!” Sa’Thuk ordered the old warrior. “Come with us!”
Djar’Ku chopped off another head and he forced the heated breath of battle out of his lungs. He could still fight and some opponents hesitated to approach him. Riverfangs, who had previously fought the Baldslayers in the jungle, now appeared between the trees and after all the living wanderers were on the other side of the gorge, there was no reason for the warrior to stay here. “Don’t follow us,” he warned and ran off.
“Who are you more afraid of?” Khojun snarled at the cowering warriors. ‘Me or him! We kill them!’ The champion was still as determined as ever, and the disadvantage of him and his trolls being an easy target for archers on the crossing meant nothing to him.
“They won’t stop,” Sa’Thuk stated. ’We have to defeat them here and now!”
“And after that?’ Zalun asked, and despite everything the wanderers had achieved, his hope was slowly fading. ”Sooner or later, they’ll send a new warband after us. We’ve found new Redshards!”
“Then we have to send them a message, too,” Djar’Ku said. This time, he was on Sa’Thuk’s side, and not because his heart burned for the fight. In his opinion, the wanderers had no choice. ”This time, we have to fight!”
“Well said, elder,” Sa’Thuk agreed, as did various, albeit exhausted, warriors. All were willing to face the new enemy with him. ”All those who are not warriors. Follow the path and don’t look back! We’ll follow later!”
Regardless of their own fear, all the hardships, the deaths and the trials that had brought them this far, all the non-warriors refused to leave their trolls at this bridge. They might not be fighters, but they were literally behind their warriors.
So the two sides faced each other, separated only by the gorge and the natural crossing. Of course, even after their losses and with fewer warriors, the wanderers were still outnumbered, but the nineteen Riverfangs, led by Khojun, stared at them undaunted. It took only a new spark, a word or a simple sound, and the Riverfangs would have crossed the bridge like a flood, and the price would have been devastating for both sides. However, it was the Riverfangs whose eyes were filled with a wonder that could be interpreted in many ways, and just as when Khojun had to look up at Blood Tusk because of the difference in size, a queasy uneasiness spread in his stomach.
He was standing behind the rows of wanderers, but Blood Tusk, with his dark plumage, stood out like a beacon just because of his size alone.
Haki and Jeli’rhawa had carried him there and were the first to notice his movements, although they didn’t dare to touch him and the giant didn’t react to their words.
By and by, the wanderers realized what was happening behind them and they retreated respectfully, like a curtain opening towards the bridge.
“How can that be?” Sa’Thuk swallowed quietly. ’And what is he planning?”
“Only the tiki know that,’ Djar’Ku replied. All his wisdom was of no use here.
Khojun spat on the scene. He was glad to see the giant standing. “RIVERFANGS! ATTACK!” he shouted, although not all the warriors followed the call.
What none of them knew was that Blood Tusk was unconscious. Or at least not himself, his body throbbing with the same supernatural strength that had taken hold of him when he had faced Zu’ji’s pursuers and the king alligator. Unlike back then, however, he didn’t utter a sound or rage like a mindless berserker against everything and everyone. Instead, he jumped from a standing position high up to the start of the bridge on his side of the gorge and Blood Tusk slammed his fist so powerfully on the ground that the immediate vicinity shook for a brief moment.
A visible shockwave went through the air and threw the few river teeth back like puppies, while an underground eruption went through the natural bridge and blew up the stone, causing the path to collapse and larger chunks to break out of the formation along the gorge.
Now they all saw it, every single wandeerr, adult or whelp, warrior or hut-female. Completely spellbound and captivated, they all witnessed the miracle that Haki had conjured for them many weeks ago.
On the other side, where the fire devoured jungle and meadow, many Riverfangs were struck by such humility in their bones that they ran away from it as if they had just seen a real tiki.
Only Khojun remained standing, aghast, at the edge of the destroyed bridge. The veins in his forehead were clearly throbbing, and he didn’t blink once. He wondered how this could be?! Why did the tiki deny him his revenge? Why were they protecting that beast? And what in the name of all the tiki had just happened? “You won’t escape me!” Khojun screamed and growled at the top of his voice, more beast than troll. “I’ll chase you no matter where you hide!”
All of this was empty talk for Blood Tusk, who didn’t rise from his kneeling position and instead slumped to the ground unconscious.