The Troll's roar echoed between the sea and mountains, a muffled sound like thunder in the night rain.
One was at the pinnacle of warm-blooded animals, the other at the pinnacle of cold-blooded animals, and the Troll's victory was effortless and understated. After its carapace was torn open, the Frostmaw Giant Spider was still alive, its fear dispelled by pain and death, so it thrashed continuously, opening its chelicerae to pierce the Troll's abdomen. However, Simon pressed his hand down and grabbed the pair of thick chelicerae, bending them backward, pulling them off like tearing off a crab claw. The intense pain made the Frostmaw Giant Spider convulse all over. The Troll bent down, biting and devouring its internal organs and muscles, swallowing the venom along with them.
The Giant Spider's massive abdomen was ripped open, revealing thick layers of fat stored inside. The Troll buried his head and gorged himself.
The eating process lasted for nearly half an hour, not even sparing the muscles in the leg joints. The Troll's powerful stomach digested everything he ate completely.
The Wolf Pack watched from a distance, not daring to approach, yet unwilling to leave.
After eating, Simon's form gradually returned to normal. He was a bit tired and sat on the ground, not wanting to move. His gaze surveyed the shattered carapace of the Frostmaw Giant Spider before him, which looked like a crab that had been haphazardly chewed.
Simon burped, recalling the taste of the spider.
Some parts were fishy and pungent, the muscles were very slippery, the texture was too loose, lacking chewiness, but the blood was quite fragrant.
All in all, the Troll would like it, humans might not accept it, but he, as a half-Troll, could accept it.
From then on, the Frostmaw Giant Spider was on the menu.
Just then, the Icefield Wolves that had fled earlier came trotting back, circling him. They were overjoyed, mouths agape, heads shaking, slobber flying, and making purring sounds.
A wolf howl was the first to ring out, immediately drawing responses from the Wolf Pack. On the desolate shore of the ice sea, a new Wolf King was born.
If the wolves had previously only regarded Simon as an honored guest, now he was a true leader to whom they could entrust their lives and the fate of their species.
Simon mounted a wolf's back and set off to explore in the direction the Frostmaw Giant Spider had come from.
After traversing a section of undulating terrain, in a shallow ice cave with a wide opening, he saw a huge cocoon, adhered to the ice wall with spider silk. Furthermore, many silk sacs were piled near the ice cave; two had already split open, and a young Frostmaw Giant Spider was roaming on the cocoon. Seeing the approaching Wolf Pack, it immediately raised its limbs and pounced.
This young spider flailed its limbs, but landed squarely in a wolf's mouth. With a snap of the jaws, it became a crispy, juicy ball.
The wolf spat out the prey at Simon's feet, indicating for him to eat first. Simon glanced at it, made no move, so the fist-sized spider was shared among several wolves, one bite per wolf.
Simon walked to the shriveled cocoon and gently pulled away the spider silk, revealing the charred, shrunken corpse of a bear inside.
It turned out that the mother bear had already met her demise when the cub was hunted that day, no wonder there was no revenge sought.
The sea wind continuously blew into the ice cave; it was too shallow to be suitable for spending the night.
Another young spider silently pounced on Simon's back neck from the cave ceiling, but he caught it. Simon observed the small spider for a while, then tossed it to the Wolf Pack.
There were also several silk sacs inside the cave, torn open by the greedy Icefield Wolves, containing many Frostmaw Giant Spider eggs, an unexpected meal.
Returning to the ice crevice, they found that one Walrus carcass was missing. Many wolves showed anger, but Simon had no intention of pursuing the thief. After a while of agitation, the Wolf Pack began to rest.
Compared to last year's Night Star Moon, the Wolf Pack's material life had greatly improved. Several days of full meals made them somewhat complacent and increasingly lazy.
Simon continued to meditate.
He once again saw that wilderness, and the Troll happily running across it.
Do Trolls also have emotions?
Simon was observing it, which was actually observing himself. The Troll was him, but he was more than just the Troll.
The light of the stars shone on the Troll, making him even more massive. When he was silent, he seemed like a primitive totem statue, casting a heavy shadow on the brightly lit earth of the splendid starry night. He seized light, strengthened himself; he was a glutton, a predator, a conqueror.
Demonic energy gathered in Simon's tender body, illuminating ancient glaciers. He was like a white candle, moonlight fallen to the mortal world.
The spirits of all things roared in the light. Simon saw boundless illusions falling from the stars, like Waterfalls from the nine heavens, like crashing heavy rain. The Troll bathed in the light, and also fought against the silently approaching illusions.
Evil fiends, reanimated corpses, ten-foot giants, black-armored, heavy-sword wielding demons, a torrent of mad beasts…
After the downpour from the sky, eight stars faintly appeared across the heavens, Holy Spirits paced, endless hymns sounded. The next instant, the Troll's roar shook heaven and earth, like an ice pick shattering the grand world, and the world suddenly collapsed.
Simon woke up.
A new day arrived as scheduled, and the night hastily retreated.
Simon was guarded by the Wolf Pack; they lay prostrate, relaxed, like wanderers who had found a resting place.
Demonic energy continued to surge into his body, immediately devoured by the hungry Troll Soul. It was active, observing this world through Simon's eyes.
When the Wolf Pack saw Simon rise, they all came behind him, like his wings. They dared not look directly at Simon's back, submissively lowering their heads.
Simon walked to the last remaining Walrus carcass and pried off its three tusks, which were almost a foot long, like short swords in his hand.
Simon tried swinging them a few times. The curved tusk shape wasn't very handy if used as a weapon; it would need to be sharpened. If used as a tool, it was barely adequate.
He decided to go check the fish pit first.
Arriving at the coast, after a night had passed, he found that the embankment had been washed away by the midnight tide, and there were about ten cod and seven or eight salmon in the pit.
The Wolf Pack retrieved the catch and enjoyed breakfast.
Simon intended to breastfeed, but the mother wolf refused. A king cannot rely on his subjects; that is a symbol of weakness.
Although he didn't understand the specific reason, seeing the mother wolf's resistance, Simon was quite helpless. Oh well, he immediately transformed into a Troll, picked a plump Chinook salmon, tore its scales and flesh with his sharp teeth, and swallowed it whole.
With a continuous supply of demonic energy, Simon's Troll transformation could last for a very long time, so long that he himself couldn't say whether he was still human.
The Troll transformation still differed in form from a true Troll.
Trolls have long arms and short legs, often hunching their backs and using their hands as crutches to climb rather than walk. However, the transformed Troll has longer legs and hands that hang to his knees, standing upright. And the influx of demonic energy causes the Troll's body hair to shine bright white like silver threads, splendid and elegant. If one didn't look at his face, he would be quite pleasing to the eye.
After enjoying his breakfast, Simon contentedly added new entries to his quest log.
[Quest: Healthy Growth]
Quest One (Completed): Attempt hunting.
Quest Two (Completed): Find a stable food source.
Quest Three (Uncompleted): Lead the Wolf Pack to a safe dwelling.
Carving a cave in the ice wall was one method, but there was a fear that glacier movement would crush the ice cave. In fact, this coast was not suitable for habitation at all.
The northwest and southeast of the Tundra both have ancient Nord ruins, which offer shelter from wind and rain and often see human activity. It was time to go check them out.
Simon looked down at his sharp claws.
The Troll's claws were dark and rough, covered with a layer of gray light, like ten iron awls.
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