NOVEL NEXT Chapter 78: ʕ•̫•ʔ---Norse Community
Before reaching the Norse community, Agnos and I were originally headed to Troll City to retrieve the last fragment.
Our itinerary had been as smooth as Mythica would allow when, predictably, my phone buzzed with another video call. Eldrin's image flickered into view, looking as harried as ever.
"Carl, I know you're on your way to Troll City. However, we need you to assist with something," he announced, brushing back a strand of his silver hair that had come loose from its neat braid. "You need to stop by the Norse community first. There's another urgent issue that requires your expertise."
"Urgent?" I repeated, deadpan, already bracing myself for whatever absurdity awaited. "And let me guess—it's conveniently along the way?"
Eldrin nodded briskly. "Exactly. It won't take long. Their council needs immediate assistance, and you're in the best position to help."
"Sure," I replied, the sarcasm barely concealed. "Because who else but the underqualified human can handle Mythica's most baffling crises?"
Agnos, lounging lazily on my backpack, smirked. "Don't flatter yourself. It's more about convenience than competence."
Eldrin ignored both of us, as he often did, and rattled off coordinates and details before cutting the call.
That left me with no choice but to agree, especially since the Norse community was indeed along the route to Troll City.
With a resigned sigh, I adjusted the map settings, and we set off toward yet another magical headache.
********
The Norse community wasn't what I expected.
Picturesque, yes. Quiet, no.
As Agnos and I strolled into the village, the air was filled with the mournful wail of bagpipes mingled with distant howls—not from wolves, but trolls. It was like someone had combined a funeral procession with a rock concert and turned the volume to max.
"Charming place," I muttered, glancing at Agnos, who was casually flicking his tail and wearing that ever-infuriating sly smile. "Perfect for a relaxing getaway."
Agnos's eyes glinted with mischief. "Oh, Carl, you'll love what's in store. The council's problem is right up your alley."
I sighed, already bracing myself for whatever nonsense awaited.
We reached the community hall, a grand structure carved from stone and adorned with runes that glowed faintly in the dimming sunlight. Inside, the Norse council members were waiting for us, their faces a mix of exhaustion and desperation.
The head councilor, a bearded man named Foulger, rose to greet us. "Mr. Suis. Thank you for coming. We're at our wits' end."
"Happy to help," I replied automatically, though my enthusiasm was about as genuine as Agnos's innocence.
Foulger gestured for us to sit at the long oak table. The other council members, a mix of stern warriors and weary scholars, exchanged glances before one of them spoke.
"We've petitioned MECCP to include trolls in the conservation habitat program. They're integral to our community—their strength supports our construction efforts, and their presence deters hostile creatures. But their population is dwindling, and dungeon raiders are slaughtering them for sport."
I frowned, trying to process this. "Okay, that's awful, but what's the immediate problem?"
********
It wasn't every day that a guy like me—armed with nothing but a degree in Zoology, questionable luck, and a knack for improvisation—found himself in the middle of a Norse community council hall, discussing troll mating season.
Yet here I was.
The hall was as grand and intimidating as you'd expect, with towering wooden beams carved with intricate Norse designs and a roaring hearth at the center.
Around the long oak table sat the council members, their faces etched with exhaustion. Bags under their eyes hinted at many sleepless nights, and their slumped shoulders screamed desperation.
Agnos, perched smugly on a carved chair that was clearly too big for him, looked perfectly at ease.
I, on the other hand, was trying to keep a straight face while one of the council members explained their predicament.
"Let me get this straight," I said, leaning back in my seat. "You want me—a powerless, weak human—to help you talk to the trolls and ask them to, what, tone down their mating calls?"
The silence that followed was deafening.
"Yes," one of the council members replied, his tone grim.
I glanced around the table, hoping someone would crack a smile, maybe admit this was some elaborate Norse hazing ritual. But no. They were dead serious.
"It's mating season, Mr. Suis," another council member explained, rubbing his temples. "Every night, we're subjected to…" He paused, searching for the right words. "Sounds that none of us asked for."
"Understatement of the year," another member muttered.
Let me just put this out there—I've handled venomous snakes, survived Munchie's mood swings, and dealt with a kraken's tsunami-inducing dance moves. But nothing, and I mean nothing, could've prepared me for what I was hearing.
"The noise is keeping everyone awake," another council member chimed in. "Our children are traumatized. And magic? Completely ineffective. They're immune to all spells."
"Fantastic," I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose. "What about relocating the trolls?"
Agnos snorted beside me, clearly amused.
"Relocation is impossible," the head councilwoman said firmly. "As we mentioned earlier, our community and the trolls share a symbiotic relationship. Wherever we go, they follow. Besides, their population is already in decline due to dungeon raids."
"Dungeon raids?" I echoed.
"Yes," she replied, her expression darkening. "The Dungeon Raiders Guild sees them as nothing more than nuisances to be exterminated and as training resources. We've petitioned MECCP to include trolls in the habitat conservation program, but the guild is vehemently opposed."
My brain was trying to process this mountain of information when Agnos decided to chime in.
"Well," he said, his tone as smooth as silk, "if we're going to help, there's a small matter of compensation."
"Compensation?" the head councilwoman repeated, her brows furrowing.
"Yes," Agnos said, flashing a sly smile. "If we resolve your troll problem, you'll grant us a favor in return."
The council exchanged wary glances.
"What kind of favor?" one of them asked.
"Oh, nothing too extravagant," Agnos replied, waving a paw dismissively. "We'll discuss it after the trolls have quieted down."
I leaned over to him, lowering my voice. "What are you doing?"
"Relax, Carl," he whispered back, his grin widening. "Trust me."
That's what he always said before dragging me into some harebrained scheme.
"Fine," the head councilwoman said at last. "If you succeed, we'll consider your request."
The meeting adjourned, and as we stepped outside into the crisp Norse air, I turned to Agnos. "Care to explain what that was about?"
"Patience, Carl," he said, his tone dripping with mockery. "All will be revealed in due time."
I sighed. Agnos was as transparent as mud, and I was too tired to argue.
********
Back at my temporary office—a cramped room filled with scrolls, books, and the faint smell of old parchment—I dived into researching trolls.
Every source I found painted the same picture: trolls were stubborn, resilient, and respected strength above all else.
One dusty tome, The Ways of the Troll, detailed their courtship rituals in excruciating detail. Apparently, their mating calls could travel for miles and were often mistaken for earthquakes.
"Great," I muttered, rubbing my temples. "I'm supposed to convince that to keep it down?"
The more I read, the more ridiculous it sounded. Trolls didn't respond to polite requests or subtle magic. If you wanted them to listen, you had to earn their respect—usually through a fight.
Just when I thought things couldn't get worse, I stumbled upon a section about the "Chief Troll." According to the text, the Chief held authority over the entire group. If I could gain his respect, I might have a shot at solving this mess.
But how does one impress a troll chief? The book was frustratingly vague on that point.
"Fantastic," I muttered, slamming the book shut. "Guess I'll have to figure it out the hard way."
********
The next day, armed with nothing but a vague plan and a growing sense of dread, I met the council to outline my strategy.
"Let me get this straight," one of them said after I explained. "You're going to meet the Chief Troll… and challenge him?"
"Pretty much," I replied, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
The council exchanged nervous glances but eventually agreed. "You have one week," the head councilwoman said. "Good luck, Mr. Suis."
As I left the hall, Agnos trotted beside me, looking far too pleased with himself. The council also assigned us a guide to help navigate through troll territory.
"This is going to be fun," he said, his grin practically splitting his face.
"For you, maybe," I shot back. "For me? This is shaping up to be a nightmare."
"Oh, Carl," he said, his voice dripping with mock pity. "Where's your sense of adventure?"
It was buried somewhere under a mountain of regret.
By the time we reached the trolls' territory, the sun was setting, casting long shadows over the rocky landscape. The air was thick with the smell of earth and moss, and in the distance, I could hear the low rumble of troll calls.
"Well," I said, taking a deep breath. "Here goes nothing."
Agnos smirked and leapt onto my shoulder. "Try not to die, Carl. I'd hate to go through the hassle of training a replacement."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," I muttered.