As four Trolls emerged from the Forbidden Forest, Robert temporarily pushed aside thoughts of the recent battle. Could this be the Troll settlement he and Hagrid were searching for? Had the earlier commotion drawn them out? He had no time to dwell on the thought. All four Trolls locked eyes on him, their gazes hungry and intense. It felt as though there was something about him that made their mouths water. Starving, the Trolls could no longer restrain themselves.
"Hungry!"
Boom. Boom.
Muffled, thunderous footsteps approached. Robert narrowed his eyes and pulled a pot of Goldfish Vine from his arms. The Trolls' eyes widened with eagerness. They lunged faster, particularly the two juveniles—each nearly three meters tall. They reached out greedily for the plant, utterly ignoring Robert.
But before they could touch it, Robert swung his baseball bat. The two juvenile Trolls were struck with crushing force, yelping in pain as a crisp crack echoed. Covering their arms, they fell to their knees, wailing loudly.
The two adult Trolls flew into a rage, raising their heavy clubs and bringing them down toward Robert. He raised his bat in defense. A double thud boomed through the forest, as if two ancient beasts had collided. The earth beneath Robert cracked and caved in slightly.
Trolls had no magical casting ability and only rudimentary intelligence, but their physical power alone earned them a 4X-level magical creature classification—just below Dragons, Basilisks, and Nundu. Their blows were strong enough to crack a Dragon's scales. Now two of them were attacking at once.
Though Robert managed to block the blow, his arms buzzed with pain. He wasn't injured, but it wasn't pleasant.
He took a deep breath. He had initially intended to repeat the method he used during the Halloween attack—disarm them with a Pruning Charm, bind them in thorns, and strike. But then his gaze drifted to his system panel.
Something had changed.
After the clash, the glow from his Legendary Life and Legendary Strength traits had brightened, ever so slightly. He remembered a similar glow after falling from a tree while planting an elber tree. He had suspected that enduring external pressure or injury was essential for advancing from Legendary to Mythical.
This battle confirmed his theory.
Instead of breaking the Trolls' weapons, Robert gripped his bat tightly and shouted:
"Is that all the strength you've got?"
"Again!"
Enraged, the Trolls launched another furious assault. Robert met them head-on, his bat clashing once more with their clubs.
The Trolls stumbled back, and one even fell. But Robert wasn't unscathed either—his ears rang from the blow. Still, when he looked at his system panel and saw the glow intensify slightly again, it was like taking a shot of adrenaline.
"Not enough."
"Again!"
"Put more effort into it!"
Blow after blow echoed through the forest. The Trolls, surprised by Robert's resilience, grew more battered with each round. Their hands were torn open and bloodied. Every swing became more painful. Robert's arms swelled, and the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, but he didn't stop. The slight brightening of his Legendary attributes was too precious to let go.
As his strength grew, theirs diminished.
Finally, with a powerful swing, Robert sent both clubs flying from the adult Trolls' hands. The wooden weapons shattered upon impact with the ground. Both adult Trolls collapsed to their knees, unable to rise again.
The two juvenile Trolls stood frozen, caught between fear and confusion. Even with their limited intellect, they could tell Robert was no ordinary opponent.
But Robert didn't press the attack. Instead, he pulled several dragon liver cakes from his bag and tossed them to the Trolls.
Sniffing the cakes, the Trolls perked up instantly and began munching. Once they were done, they looked at Robert eagerly.
"Delicious—"
"More—"
Robert's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Having communicated with Trolls before, he used simple hand gestures to convey a message:
"Follow me."
"There's more food."
To his surprise, the adult Trolls and juveniles all knelt before him. He caught fragments of what they were muttering:
"Gronnak…"
"Gronnak—King…"
Robert froze. It took him a moment to realize they were calling him Gronnak, the mythical Troll King who, according to legend, would bring them food and shelter.
"No way—who's a Troll King?!"
He pictured the future: other wizards proudly introducing themselves with titles like Order of Merlin or Dueling Champion, and then:
"Robert… the King of Trolls."
He shuddered.
Still, no matter how many times he tried to explain, the Trolls refused to listen. Robert could only sigh and accept the title—temporarily.
"I'll trick them into helping raise the Goldfish Vine," he muttered.
"I'll fix their title later."
Then he lifted Hagrid and started back toward the castle. The four Trolls followed silently behind him.
Some time later, Hagrid stirred in bed at the Gamekeeper's Hut. His head throbbed, but memories of the ambush flooded back. He sat bolt upright.
"Robert?!"
To his relief, Robert was within sight. They were safe. This wasn't some poacher's den or creature black market.
Hagrid exhaled deeply.
"We were ambushed in the Forbidden Forest, right?"
"I remember being knocked down. What happened after that?"
Robert replied with a straight face, "You were knocked down… but you got right back up. You scared the poacher leader so badly he ran off. You've been out for two days. If you didn't wake up soon, I was going to fetch Madam Pomfrey."
Hagrid frowned in confusion. He couldn't remember any of it. But he didn't press the issue. Tears welled in his eyes as guilt overwhelmed him.
"Merlin above… I nearly got you killed."
"It's my fault—bringing you into the forest…"
Robert glanced at Hagrid's bruises. Despite his half-Giant resilience, Hagrid had clearly protected Robert during the ambush, taking the brunt of the blows. Robert sighed and consoled him.
"No, Hagrid. It was my idea to find the Troll settlement. That's what gave the poachers their chance."
Eventually, Hagrid calmed down. But when he glanced out the window, he froze.
Behind the hut stood four enormous figures, in addition to the familiar Halloween Troll.
"Is that—?"
"A Troll settlement?!"
"When did they show up?"
Robert gave him a knowing smile.
"They saw your bravery in battle. They were impressed and wanted to follow you."
Hagrid blinked.
"R-Really?"
He scratched his head, looking puzzled.
"I think I remember someone fighting those Trolls…"
After Hagrid finally settled, Robert sat quietly, reviewing everything that had happened.
The ambush in the Forbidden Forest wasn't random—those poachers were targeting him specifically.
Quirrell.
Robert's expression darkened. The man was like a lingering curse, popping up again and again. If Robert hadn't harvested the Piranha Algae before the fight, things might've gone terribly wrong. These poachers were trained and brutal—not like schoolyard duelists.
He considered his own weaknesses—particularly in defensive spells and counter-curses. He had a long way to go.
Still, the gains from this mission were undeniable.
He now had five Trolls under his command—including the Halloween one. And juvenile Trolls worked just as well as adults for cultivating Goldfish Vine. These five could produce enough "forgetfulness" daily to nurture over 200 pots. Adding the 40 he could maintain in the castle, his total had risen to 250+.
More than triple his previous output.
This would accelerate the upgrade of his Magic Perception Enhancement, which had just reached gold level, pushing it closer to platinum.
He glanced at the system panel again.
Even more encouraging: the slight but real increase in his Legendary Strength and Legendary Life from the battles. This was the only method he had found to evolve his legendary stats toward Mythical.
What heights could he reach, training with these five Trolls?
As the clock ticked past midnight, fireworks suddenly exploded above Hogwarts Castle. The sky lit up with color. Even the Trolls paused, staring up in wonder.
Robert took a long breath.
Christmas had arrived.
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