Similar to the Frost Giants, the trolls were also Asgard's nemesis.
To some extent, the hatred between Asgardians and trolls was even worse, as trolls originated in Nornheim, much of which was now Asgardian territory. The core conflict in Nornheim lay in the struggle between Asgard and the troll clans.
In the eyes of the trolls, the Asgardians were the invaders who had seized their homeland. Though the trolls of Warnerheim and Nornheim were not entirely united, their hatred for Asgardians was unwavering.
When these trolls encountered the herb collection team, their rage ignited instantly. Enemies locked in deep resentment had met, and there was no turning back.
Numerically, the herb collection team had the advantage, with about 30 members compared to the trolls' fewer than 20. However, among the 30, a significant number were doctors with little to no combat ability. In reality, the two sides were evenly matched.
"Prepare for battle!" Scala commanded, his expression grim. Thunder crackled around him, making him resemble a god of lightning. He extended a hand, and a bolt of lightning coalesced into the shape of a sword before he hurled it forward.
But the trolls were not as fragile as the Scrins. Despite the dazzling display, one particularly burly troll at the forefront did not flinch. Judging by his confidence and size, he appeared to be their leader.
The troll leader roared and swung his massive mace, intercepting Scala's lightning strike.
"Boom!"
The arc of lightning exploded on impact, scorching the troll's arm with its fiery energy.
"Scala of the third camp! I know you! I heard you once saved Odin's life!" the troll leader bellowed. "Let me see if you truly deserve such a reputation!"
Scala snorted in response, saying nothing. To the surprise of many, he drew two machetes from his sides and charged forward, dual-wielding his blades.
Rowe was stunned.
What the hell?! He had assumed Scala was some kind of mage, yet here he was, wielding dual machetes like a berserker.
Scala and the troll leader clashed, their weapons meeting in a flurry of sparks and thunder. Despite the troll leader's superior strength and size, Scala's agility and control over lightning gave him the upper hand.
"Attack!" The battle erupted all around them.
The warriors of both sides engaged in a chaotic skirmish, swords clashing and war cries filling the air. Though the Asgardians fought valiantly, the trolls were just as fierce. The battlefield was a storm of blades and blood.
"Aaargh!"
The first casualty fell. A soldier from the herb collection team was cleaved in two by a troll's giant axe. Though his comrades avenged him immediately, the gruesome sight sent a chill through Rowe.
These trolls are no joke. Even with my spells and weapons, I can't take them head-on.
Realizing he needed to play a smarter role, Rowe channeled the Holy Light into his palm. A brilliant golden glow radiated from his hand as he pointed at a troll.
Hand of Reckoning!
The troll suddenly froze, his face contorting with emotions—rage, regret, embarrassment. The spell forced him to recall his misdeeds, drowning him in guilt. His momentary hesitation was all it took for an Asgardian warrior to slice off his arm.
"Aaaargh!"
Weakened and disoriented, the troll was swiftly finished off.
Rowe smirked. That worked better than expected.
He turned his gaze to another troll.
Hand of Reckoning!
Once again, the spell did its work, and another troll fell.
Rowe continued his assault, targeting multiple trolls with the Hand of Reckoning until his Holy Light reserves ran low. By the time he was forced to stop, nearly half of the enemy force had fallen. The tide of battle had shifted.
The troll leader, still engaged in combat with Scala, noticed the drastic change. His eyes locked onto Rowe, burning with hatred.
He knows I'm the reason they're losing.
Rowe barely had time to react before the troll leader roared and charged at him, fists clenched like boulders.
"You—die!"
Rowe tried to dodge, but the brute's attacks came fast and relentless. He barely managed to stay on his feet.
Damn it, he's too fast! Seeing no other option, Rowe summoned his last reserves of Holy Light.
Divine Protection!
A soft golden glow enveloped him just as the troll leader's massive fist connected.
Boom!
Rowe was sent flying, his body rattled by the sheer force of the impact. His vision blurred, and his mind wavered on the edge of consciousness.
The troll leader sneered and stepped forward to finish him off.
But before he could strike again, a shadow leapt through the air.
Shing!
A gleaming sword sliced clean through the troll's neck.
The leader's head tumbled to the ground, followed by the rest of his massive body.
Standing above him was Heimd, blade in hand, eyes cold as steel.