Malphegor
patreon
LOTR: TMCP Ch. 21
🕑 Added 2025-07-10 02:31:43 +0000 UTCNoticing the glimmer of light, Garrett immediately stopped caring about the filth on the ground and hurried over.
He raised his torch.
On the ground lay a pile of silver coins, some old, some newer. Scattered nearby were miscellaneous trinkets, along with utensils and tableware made of various materials, knives, forks, plates, candlesticks, and cups...
Some were silver, others gold.
A smile crept onto his face. He had struck it rich.
Clatter.
He began rummaging through everything, packing all the valuables into his inventory. There were so many different items that his inventory quickly became too full. After thinking for a moment, he decided to build a smelting furnace on the spot. He melted down all the miscellaneous metal items into raw materials.
In the end, he obtained five gold ingots, eleven silver ingots, and a pouch of silver coins.
His inventory was spacious once again.
In terms of volume, the haul wasn't massive, just some utensils and cups, but the sheer variety made it unwieldy to carry.
After processing this batch of treasure, a prompt suddenly appeared. He opened the crafting menu and saw that new recipes had been unlocked: metal utensils, candlesticks, and more.
From now on, he could craft these items directly.
With everything packed up, he eagerly left the cave, opened his map, and continued deeper into the forest.
"Trolls... truly a goldmine."
Having tasted success, he now looked forward to this troll-infested forest with great anticipation.
---
The next day, in broad daylight, a wail echoed from the other side of the ridge.
A troll was startled awake from slumber, only to find a human stabbing a sword into its flank. It rose in fury to give chase, but immediately hesitated.
Because it was daytime.
Though the forest was dense and shadowy, even a sliver of sunlight made the troll extremely uncomfortable.
"You worm!"
The enraged troll grabbed a boulder from the ground and hurled it outward.
With a crash, the rock smashed into a tree, leaving a visible crack along the thick trunk, nearly splitting it in half.
Garrett broke into a cold sweat, this troll could attack at range?
If that had connected, it would have taken off four or five HP at least. No need for further discussion, he used his proven method.
Block the entrance, draw his bow, pepper it with arrows.
Before long, the furious troll collapsed to the ground, defeated and full of regret.
Garrett retrieved his arrows, stepped over the massive troll corpse without a second glance, and walked into the deepest part of the cave with his torch.
Practice makes perfect.
This time, his actions were swift and efficient. He quickly searched any possible hiding spots for treasure, smelting down unportable items into raw materials. It was all done cleanly and systematically, no delay, no waste.
Looking at the steadily growing wealth in his inventory, he couldn't help but marvel, "This troll forest really is a great place, gold and silver everywhere."
Nodding in satisfaction, he continued deeper into the Trollshaws.
---
One week later, in the forest, a troll crouched in a thicket, trembling as it caught a sheep. It twisted the sheep's neck with a sharp crack and hurriedly ran home with it clutched in its arms.
"Hurry... hurry..."
The troll panted, its massive head drenched in sweat.
"Please don't come, please don't come... I must get home quickly, if not, I'll encounter that terrible treasure-hunter..."
Whew.
Under the dark sky, after running for what felt like an eternity, the troll finally saw its cave and breathed a sigh of relief. It lit a fire, ready to roast the whole sheep as its reward. As the skin of the sheep turned golden and released a savory, roasted aroma, the troll finally relaxed.
Gnawing noisily at the meat, feeling warmth in its belly and its strength slowly returning, the troll couldn't help but let out a satisfied grunt.
"Hah! That so-called 'treasure-hunter'? Once I'm well-fed, he won't even withstand a single blow from me."
"Oh? Is that so?"
"Of course!" the troll answered without hesitation.
Hmm?
It turned its massive head and suddenly noticed a human had somehow appeared right beside it. The troll immediately grinned wickedly.
"Looks like I'm getting a midnight snack tonight, hah hah hah..."
Moments later.
Thud.
The troll, covered in wounds, clutched its throat and collapsed to the ground.
Garrett stood still, chewing on a couple of pieces of jerky to recover health. After an entire week of combat in the forest, he had already slain more than a dozen trolls.
But in truth, only a few had been killed with his bow. Troll hides were far too tough; by the time he'd taken down the fourth one, most of his arrows were either broken or too damaged to use again.
Since then, he had been engaging them in melee, using a sword, a set of iron armor, and a shield to duel the trolls one-on-one. Even if he couldn't win outright, he could always retreat. Worst case, he'd just dig a pit, build a wall, or use creative block placement to gain the high ground, no fear of dying unexpectedly.
At first, facing such high-damage, high-defense enemies, he had been nervous. After all, those giant fists could crack boulders; getting hit directly would be agonizing. But as he took more hits, he gradually began to read their attack patterns and committed the countermeasures to muscle memory, every lesson learned was paid for in blood, earned through trial and error.
Anyone else would have been crippled from the very first blow, with no chance to continue learning. But he just kept absorbing the punishment, to the point that half his iron armor's durability was gone, and through that, he mastered troll-fighting techniques.
The moment a troll raised its arm, he could now instantly tell if it was going to slap, sweep, smash, or throw a rock. Then, he'd respond accordingly.
He hadn't become a combat master yet, but he'd definitely evolved into a monster-hunting specialist.
"So poor..."
Moments later, he walked out from the depths of the cave, looking disgusted. Yet another impoverished troll. Nothing of value in the cave, just piles of bones and refuse.
Indeed, not every troll was sitting on treasure.
Based on his experience over the past week, only a few troll caves actually had loot. Most trolls had no wealth to speak of. Every time he entered one, whether or not he found anything worthwhile was pure chance.
It was like opening a treasure chest.
That said, he noticed something else, finding trolls was getting harder and harder.
Today alone, he had only come across one troll and its cave, and that was just because he'd luckily caught it out hunting. If it had stayed holed up inside, he probably wouldn't have found it at all. Then he remembered what it had kept muttering before it died, something about a "treasure-hunter."
Thinking it over, the more he reflected, the more he realized, "Were they talking about me?"
It hit him all at once: he'd been killing so many trolls lately, his reputation had probably spread among them.
"Well... that's not good."
He sighed and awkwardly walked out of the cave, circling around the troll's crude roasting pit and cooking setup.
Hm?
He suddenly stopped and looked back at the primitive barbecue arrangement. He stared at the spit in the center, the one used to hold the meat—covered in grime and grease.
Hmm...?
He slowly walked closer, eyes locked on it. If he wasn't mistaken, the core of that spit... was glowing?
No, not mistaken, it was really glowing!
He grasped the rod, its original form nearly unrecognizable beneath the accumulated filth.
[Filthy Ancient Elven Blade]
