Earlier, Simon, after transforming into a Troll, went into the woods to retrieve his mother's longsword and collected her remains.
This event did not leave a deep impression on him, and he himself was unwilling to revisit this memory.
However, the day after Jonas left, he missed his mother exceptionally.
All his mothers.
The one on Earth, Nati and Paya from Hollow Knight, Liang Rulian and Li Meizheng from the scroll of taiwu, and his Nord mother in this life.
Simon now knew his mother's name: Giana Blood-drinker.
Gaelina in Nordic means 'warrior' and also signifies determination.
Blood Drinker was her nickname and her surname.
Simon used his great axe to fell a tall pine tree, splitting off a section of wood to serve as a tombstone; for now, it remained uncarved, simply erected in front of the burial mound. This burial ritual was completely different from Nord tradition.
The Troll sat cross-legged before the fresh tombstone, resting his head on his right hand, lost in thought. His broad body was obscured by the tree's shade and his robe, like a statue before a grave.
The continuous influx of demonic energy and the use of magic had begun to make his temperament more melancholic. Perhaps this was also why Nord barbarians disliked magic; they were like the ice and snow of Skyrim and the steel in a forge, adhering to straightforward thinking.
A long-lost homesickness made the Troll wish he could sing a song, but the words caught in his throat, as if falling into an abyss, without even a ripple or a splash.
He decided to shift his attention to the tasks and updated his log.
[Task: Explore Demonic Energy]
...
Task Three (Unfinished): Understand the magic system.
[Task: Linguist]
...
Task Two (Unfinished): Learn written language
These two cannot be rushed.
[Task: Coral Dragon Claw]
Task One (Unfinished): Go to Irkngthand
That's too far.
[Task: Explore Surroundings]
...
Task Two (Unfinished): Explore ancient ruins in the southeast of the Tundra.
...
Task Four (Unfinished): Explore the shipwreck ruins on the northeast coast of the Tundra.
Simon rubbed his face, picked up his great axe, and headed east.
The ancient ruins in the southeast were massive in scale; although most of them were buried by geological changes, there were still three exposed sections on the surface, separated by tens to a hundred miles.
Simon entered the ruins through a crevice in an ice valley. This looked like the main entrance, with the highest point of the archway at least three hundred feet above the ice cap's surface.
At the entrance were a few empty wooden barrels, and in addition, a puddle of fresh blood.
Guests in the Tundra? The Troll scratched the bristling mane on his chin.
The black metal door was only wide enough for one person, with exquisite carvings; apart from some eroded marks, it showed no rust. Simon momentarily considered dismantling the door.
Pushing the door open, the Wolf Pack followed Simon, filing in behind him.
Inside was a narrow passage, ending in an iron grate, beyond which was a spacious area. A strong smell of decay and dust filled the place, stinging his nose.
Besides that, there was also a human scent.
The smell of blood. Drops of blood were scattered on the ground, inconspicuous, extending into the inner hall.
Simon frowned. This ruin should contain many valuable items. Jonas needed to study, so he couldn't possibly let this place go.
The Wolf Pack was restless, circling Simon. The Troll gave each of them a light tap on the head, sending them away.
The passage quieted down. Simon stood before the iron grate and found that the mechanism's pull-cord was on the opposite side of the door. This meant he had entered the ruins through a back entrance.
The Troll passed the axe handle through a gap in the grate, inserted it into the pull-cord's iron ring, and pressed down. A muffled mechanical sound came from within the wall, and the grate slowly rose.
Before the creaking of the mechanism had ceased, a dark streak of light flashed before Simon's eyes. The Troll raised his great axe, and in the nick of time, parried the arrow with the heavy blade.
Arrows are inherently quiet, and now the twang of the bowstring was completely masked by the rising grate's noise. In the darkness, the attacker still showed no sign of himself.
The incoming arrow struck the axe, its shaft breaking, and a faint blue venom spilled out, quickly evaporating into a poisonous mist that made his nasal passages ache.
The Troll gripped the axe handle with both hands, walking step by step into the hall.
This was a circular stone hall, with wooden pillars crisscrossing on both sides, many collapsed and damaged. Simon was on a high platform with an open view, and the style was grand and magnificent. The tomb's lighting was relatively sufficient, with torches and braziers lit, but they couldn't fully illuminate the entire spacious area. Large shadows were cast in the lower areas below the steps and around the walls.
Simon took a soft breath, smelling a faint scent of blood.
Hidden by his dark robe, the Troll, save for his hairy hands, remained mysterious and inscrutable.
The human scent was distributed in many places. Simon walked step by step towards the strongest smell of blood, the double-edged axe head weaving through the air without the slightest tremor, steady as ever. The top of the axe handle was embedded with a long spike, ready to be used as a spear, while the end of the axe handle was fitted with a half-foot diameter counterweight ball, which could serve as a hammerhead.
Such an overly complex weapon, in the hands of a martial arts master like Simon, could truly be used as a myriad of armaments.
The Troll's heavy breathing echoed like drumbeats in the deep tomb, and there was no other sound—neither footsteps nor the breath of a second person.
He walked little by little to the place where the smell of blood was strongest, behind a tilted stone pillar. There was no one, only a pool of blood and a pile of blood-stained cloth.
The entire tomb chamber was sealed. Apart from the passage Simon entered, there was no other way out, so the attacker must not have gone far.
Simon remained silent for a long time, the air dead still.
He coughed once, then slowly said in the common tongue, "I mean no harm; I only want money. We can explore the tomb together…"
At that moment, a cold sneer suddenly came from behind him. As he slowly turned his body, in the next instant, the sound of arrows whistling through the air came simultaneously from both left and right.
Did the attacker have companions?
Simon, without thinking, swung his great axe, creating an impenetrable sphere. A black arrow was struck down; judging by its direction, it had come from directly in front.
There was only one opponent.
The opponent could use illusion magic, and perhaps even invisibility.
Confusing the senses with illusionary sounds would surely trip up most people.
"I repeat, I mean no harm."
Successive footsteps sounded from all directions, yet looking around, there was not a single person in sight.
Simon frowned, and an epiphyllum bloomed in his palm. A small Fire Elemental emerged from the void amidst falling petals, appearing suddenly. The torches and braziers in the tomb chamber instantly flared up, and the Fire Elemental hurriedly launched a fiery red fireball at a long pillar. An explosion rang out, and a figure clad in red and black light armor tumbled outwards, their short cape ignited by the flames. Before the person could even stand up, the Troll had silently arrived before them, bringing his great axe down fiercely, planting it upright in front of the attacker.
After pinning the rogue down with his foot on their back, Simon reached out and grabbed the back of their neck. At this moment, the rogue arched their body and raised a leg, a frost blade springing from the heel of their boot, stabbing directly towards the Troll's spine.
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