Rain fell.
In the forest where rain poured down, a subjugation request with a set deadline loomed.
There was no need to study astrology or magic to know this was an ill omen.
The Black Tails didn’t say it outright, but they knew the hunt ahead would not go smoothly.
The rain, unrelenting for a month, grew heavier rather than lighter.
Surabar pushed through the rain-soaked path, silently leading the way.
Into the forest. Into the deeper reaches where shadows, darkness, and the secrets of Garam Forest, home to the forest troll, lay hidden.
The timing couldn’t be worse.
The rain, ceaseless for a month, was a lamentable burden. It almost made one suspect a spiteful wizard had summoned a monsoon.
Garam Forest hadn’t seen a single day without rain in the past month. The weather was harsh, and the hunt would be harsher still.
“Leader, the rain’s coming down too hard… The ground’s soaked through. Wouldn’t it be better to give up?”
Furdwal approached and asked.
Normally, Furdwal would follow the leader’s judgment without question, but today seemed different.
“Stop it, Furdwal. You think the leader doesn’t know?”
“But…”
“Enough. It hears sounds drowned out by the rain’s patter. Be quiet.”
At Surabar’s words, not only Furdwal but also Tenok shut their mouths and returned to their positions.
Drip, drip…
The endless rain showed no sign of stopping, even after a month.
Surabar gazed far into the heart of the forest, where darkness settled heavily despite it being midday.
Even the tiger’s eyes, capable of piercing deep darkness, were useless in this weather.
No matter how carefully he focused and stepped forward, neither the forest troll nor any trace of it could be found.
In Garam Forest, where even scents were washed away by the rain, it was like an abyss.
“Leader, isn’t there, you know… a cave?”
Furdwal pleaded with Surabar once more. After a moment’s thought, Surabar nodded.
“That might be best.”
Watching the pouring rain, the mercenary leader decided to take his subordinate’s advice.
Surabar gave a short whistle as a signal. The mercenaries, struggling to keep up, found strength in their sluggish, mud-caked steps and moved forward.
They cleared the vines blocking the entrance and pushed a massive boulder aside with force, creating just enough space for a person to enter.
Surabar, whose tiger eyes could pierce even thick darkness, scanned the interior and nodded, sparking anticipation among the mercenaries.
“Let’s go in. Eat something and rest for a bit.”
“Yes, Leader!”
“Move it!”
The tailed mercenaries slipped through the rocks with swift, agile movements.
Four, three, two, one… Once the youngest of the group, the only tailless mercenary, slipped into the hideout, Surabar finally squeezed himself in last.
“Leader, warm up by the fire.”
“Alright.”
Tenok, gently swaying his black tail, pointed to the faintly burning campfire.
Over a dozen beastman warriors, soaked to the bone, looked like drenched rats.
As they dried their wet bodies by the campfire, growling stomachs echoed here and there, no one claiming the first sound.
“Youngest.”
“Yes.”
At Furdwal’s call, the youngest of the Black Tail Mercenaries, the only human without a tail, responded energetically and rummaged through a heavy bag.
Soon, the human brought out biscuits and jerky, damp from the rain.
The mercenaries, like starving ghosts, silently stuffed the preserved food Paramir offered into their mouths. It was gone in an instant.
“Leader, how long do we rest?”
“Until the rain stops. Or at least until it lets up.”
The forest troll subjugation request had been received two weeks ago.
The unusually heavy spring rain had left only three days until the deadline.
Normally, they wouldn’t complain about tight deadlines or strict conditions, but this time, they could only blame the weather.
Rain that hadn’t stopped for a month… It felt like a curse from the gods.
“Not today.”
“Wise words.”
Furdwal chimed in at the leader’s remark.
The youngest, Paramir, didn’t give up and dug through the bag, finally finding dry firewood tucked deep inside.
Thanks to the dry wood, they could stoke the dying campfire into a larger blaze.
The mercenaries, having dried their damp bodies and clothes, listened to the sound of rain outside, sprawled in comfortable positions, and soon began snoring.
Furdwal and Tenok, who considered themselves Surabar’s direct aides, curled their tails and fell asleep.
Only Paramir sat quietly, staring blankly at the fire among the sleeping mercenaries.
Surabar looked at the human youngest and spoke softly.
“You should sleep when you can. No need to hold back.”
“I can’t sleep.”
“…Then at least pretend to.”
When Paramir showed no sign of closing his eyes, Surabar gestured for him to come closer, still sitting quietly and breathing softly.
“Got something for me to do?”
His eyes held boundless trust, faith, and familiarity.
Like a beastman. Yes, like them…
“Let’s just talk. Got any liquor?”
“Liquor during a mission? You banned it, didn’t you?”
“With a swordmaster around, there’s no need to ban drinking. But those guys would smell it the moment they wake up, so… rainwater will do.”
“Wise thinking, Leader.”
“Leader, my foot. What kind of leader is weaker than the youngest?”
“No matter what anyone says, Surabar is my leader. You know that.”
Yes, he knew. Surabar gave a bitter smile.
This spirited youngest was once a youth sold into slavery, passed from hand to hand.
Disobedient and troublesome, he was sold repeatedly until fate brought him to Surabar’s mercenary band.
Paramir said he didn’t know much about his own past, only that he woke up a slave.
The guild branch leader, Maximilian, had practically forced him onto Surabar at a cheap price, making him do menial tasks like cleaning.
Little did they know, that would become the wisest deal the Black Tail Mercenaries ever made.
Surabar wondered if this meeting was guided by Barhan, like with Jasmine.
Staring at the falling rain, Surabar voiced a sudden thought.
“Forest troll. Want to take it down yourself?”
“Not a bad idea.”
Paramir nodded eagerly.
Surabar looked at the youngest, a head shorter than him, and grinned like a tiger.
***
The smell of rainwater.
The scent of moss.
The earthy aroma rising from deep beneath the ground tickled the nose.
Crackle, crackle.
The sound of the dying embers felt like a lullaby.
Whether hunting ordinary deer or dangerous magical beasts, all hunts shared one thing: the need for patience.
Surabar, watching the rain, ordered the group to stay in the hideout for another day.
We followed the leader’s orders faithfully, with a bit of amusement thrown in.
We traded silly jokes and pranks, and when that grew tiresome, we stared blankly at the rain or slept.
At mealtime, we tried to cook stew. …Yes, we tried.
“Any more dry firewood?”
“None left. Everything else is wet and won’t catch.”
“Damn it.”
Tenok rummaged through my bag for dry wood, but it had long been burned to ashes.
Realizing they could no longer cook with fire, Furdwal’s ears drooped in sadness.
“I’ll be back.”
Whenever the rain weakened, the leader went out alone to scout the surroundings and returned.
There were no notable results.
It was enough to make one doubt if a forest troll even existed.
“When’s it coming?”
“Be patient.”
“I am being patient.”
“Keep being patient.”
“…You want to go a round?”
Furdwal and Tenok bickered, poking each other with their tails.
“Get in position.”
“You get in position. Don’t underestimate me, or you’ll lose that tail.”
“You little—”
“Enough.”
Swish.
Surabar, returning silently amidst the rain’s patter, spoke, and Furdwal and Tenok instantly lowered their tails, becoming docile.
“I found traces of the forest troll.”
“Finally!”
Cheers erupted from all around.
Surabar’s face, flickering in the firelight, seemed both joyful and somber.
Patter, patter…
The rain was gradually thinning.
The forest.
A magical beast that only moved during rain. The thinning rain meant the troll’s active period was nearing its end.
With the subjugation deadline tomorrow, it was as if the heavens were offering a sliver of hope.
“The hunt will be me, Furdwal, Tenok, and… Paramir. The rest, stand by.”
“Leader? The team selection’s a bit odd, isn’t it?”
“You heard me. You lot stand by. The four of us will hunt. Furdwal, Tenok, Paramir. Get ready.”
“Yes.”
The members tilted their heads, puzzled by the inexplicable order.
But that was all. None dared question the leader’s words.
Such was Surabar’s absolute authority in the Black Tail Mercenaries.
Rumble… Confirming I was out, Surabar pushed the boulder to seal the cave entrance.
I looked at the falling rain, opening my mouth to the sky.
Since I’d get wet anyway, I might as well enjoy it.
Emerging from the hideout after over a day, the rain falling into my mouth felt refreshing.
“Paramir. This time, you’ll need to step up.”
“Me? Is that okay?”
Surabar spoke without caring that Furdwal and Tenok could hear.
The two stared at us—specifically at me—with wide, incredulous eyes.
“…What kind of forest troll is this?”
Gulp.
I swallowed rainwater-mixed saliva and asked.
Regardless, Surabar was my leader and a man worthy of respect.
Having sworn to follow him as my brother, I’d uphold that loyalty, even if the world turned upside down or he betrayed me and became my enemy.
I still remembered the slave papers burned to ashes in the campfire.
“A shaman. And one that’s lived a long time.”
At Surabar’s words, it wasn’t me but Furdwal and Tenok whose tails shot up straight in shock.