The Fat Aristocrat Waltz in the Labyrinth - Chapter 35

Chapter 35: The fat aristocrat fights trolls

The exploration of the sixth floor was relatively smooth.

The creatures inhabiting it were bipeds, cat-faced beastmen, and plump snakes.

The cat beastmen came at Mitrof quickly with their developed forearms and sharp claws. Their swift movements were troublesome, but Mitrof found them easier to deal with than the ochre boars. His decisive swordsmanship was well-suited to fast opponents.

The plump snakes approached by crawling on the ground or walls. When they contracted tightly, they would jump like a cannonball. Grace sometimes shot them down, and Mitrof sometimes knocked them down with his gauntlet.

Once, Mitrof took a hit from a plump snake like a cannonball in the stomach. It was a painful blow to the stomach, but because of Mitrof’s thick fat, the plump snake bounced back.

Once you get used to dealing with them, the sixth floor can be a relatively easy place to explore. However, neither the cat beastmen nor the plump snakes had valuable parts when skinned, and in terms of harvest, the fifth floor seemed to be a more fruitful location.

“It seems like there really aren’t any blue deer present.”

Grace murmured softly, as if her thoughts had slipped out. Although her voice was flat, Mitrof could sense a tinge of anxiety and restlessness mixed into her tone.

The exploration of the 6th floor was progressing smoothly. However, there were no signs of the blue deer, nor could they see the troll. Even if the exploration itself was going well, without finding what they were looking for, their hearts would continue to tire.

The incident occurred when Canule suggested taking a break because she was worried about the two.

“Something seems to be rampaging.”

Grace, with her sharp ears, noticed it first. Following her lead and turning a corner in the road, Mitrof finally heard the sound.

There was definitely the sound of something hard hitting the wall. In the labyrinth, that sound was almost certainly the noise of someone fighting something. However, what was strange was that there were no monsters on the 6th floor that could make such a loud noise.

As they continued down the hallway to see what was happening, they could finally see the figure. It was the “Wolves Wind” who was in a battle.

Mikel, holding his great sword, noticed Mitrof.

“Mitrof! Get back!—It’s the troll’s ‘March of Advance’!”

Without any reaction to his words, Mitrof could only widen his eyes.

There was a hole in the path. Trolls emerged from there, and it wasn’t just that. Three trolls were already fighting with Mikel and others in the passageway, and there were even trolls that had already exhausted their energy.

Close to 10 trolls were now visible in this location alone.

“Do we help?”

Canule asked Mitrof calmly. It meant deciding whether to leave this place or participate in the battle.

Of course, Mitrof didn’t hesitate.

“——Let’s go. Canule, stay here. Grace, okay?”

“Of course. Abandoning them would only tarnish the pride of the elves.”

Grace pulled out three arrows from the quiver. She held one in her mouth, held the other with her little finger and ring finger of her right hand, and drew the bowstring with the last one.

Mitrof drew out his rapier and ran forward.

With his belly shaking and bouncing, he ran swiftly.

Arrows flew past him from behind. One, two, three.

The rapid fire accurately hit the troll’s neck and head, visible through the side hole.

The troll screamed, but the wounds were shallow.

The troll’s skin was thick and protected by fat. It was not a fatal blow. However, it was enough to signal their presence.

The troll pulled out the arrows embedded in his body and threw them to the ground. The creature let out a growl, glaring at Mitrof as he approached.

“Hey! I told you to run, you pig!”

Mikel shouted.

“You said adventurers help each other, you shorty!”

Mitrof shouted back.

The troll held a broken stone axe in his hand. It was nothing more than a lump of rock without any sharpness, but if it hit Mitrof, it would surely kill him.

His body suddenly heated up, burning with flames. He tightly gripped the handle of his weapon. The troll raised the stone axe and swung it down. There was no way he could miss that movement.

Mitrof stepped and avoided the stone axe. Fragments of the shattered floor flew toward his feet. He paid no attention. He moved in and stabbed the knee of the troll. Quickly pulling his sword back, he slashed the back of the knee.

A scream.

The troll collapsed where Mitrof had jumped back. If he severed the tendon of his right leg, the giant could not stand. If Mitrof hit his knee, the head would lower. It was easily within reach.

Without hesitation, Mitrof jumped in again, dropped his knee, and thrust his sword with his whole body toward one point. He thrusts from below, aiming for the bottom of the troll’s chin.

The rapier penetrated accurately and pierced through the troll’s brain.

Immediately withdrawing the sword, he stepped back with a turn of his body. A ray of blood from the tip of the sword that was shaken off draws an arc that wraps around Mitrof’s body.

Without a scream or astonishment, the troll fell and stopped moving.

“——Good.”

This movement was something that Mitrof had imagined many times since fighting the troll. He nodded at the fact that he could do it in reality, and quickly moved on to the next challenge.

“You did it, junior!”

Mikel teased Mitrof, keeping an eye on him while fighting at the same time.

Mitrof’s composure in battle was something he had to learn from his experienced seniors. He felt frustrated but didn’t say a word.

Mikel and the others were fighting three trolls at once with ease. They were a party of four people, each with their own roles. They dealt with trolls with confidence and efficiency.

While Mitrof was taking a breath, a troll peered out from a nearby cave. But at that moment, an arrow pierced its right eye with pinpoint accuracy, taking it down without fail. Grace, who was still holding the bow, remained in place and released the arrow.

Mitrof looked back and saw Grace smiling confidently.

Just as Mitrof had many ideas on how to fight trolls, Grace must have had her own, not to hunt the beast, but to strike the monster. This difference in mindset from hunting to adventuring had sharpened her archery skills.

Mitrof and the others didn’t need to provide backup, as “Wolves Wind” had taken care of the trolls one by one, finally defeating the last one. Now they could take a breath and relax—but suddenly, at that very moment when the tension came loose,

Dodon.

The ceiling burst open.