Chapter 22: The Gray Monster in the Swamp

Joanne returned home to find Conti, as usual, waiting for him to share dinner. The two sat at the table, chatting as they ate. Mostly, it was Conti talking, and Joanne didn't mind playing the role of listener.

For the next four days, Joanne's routine remained unchanged. Each morning, he assisted Mr. Kelandel at the clinic with preparing medicines before heading to the marsh to collect leeches, spending at least ten hours a day on this exceedingly tedious task. Fortunately, Joanne's solitary nature allowed him to endure the monotony, and he didn't find it dull. Besides the considerable income, the work honed his concentration—he had become so adept that he could operate the "Mage Hand" spell while reading, truly dividing his attention between two things at once.

On the first Sunday of February, sunshine poured down as Joanne shouldered his pack and made his way to the marsh, crossing the reeds with practiced ease to reach his usual spot. However, as he approached the familiar hillside, he abruptly stopped in his tracks, as though struck by a heavy blow, and looked up in astonishment at the summit.

His usual haunt beneath the tall, verdant pine had been claimed. More precisely, the figure standing there could hardly be called human. Though it possessed a humanoid form and limbs, its skin shone with a silvery-gray luster, like birch bark. From head to foot, it stood nine feet tall, with a hunched back reminiscent of a stooped giant. Broad-shouldered and powerfully built, its arms were so muscular as to appear grotesquely overdeveloped. Even at a distance, Joanne could sense the destructive power pulsing beneath every inch of its flesh, like a volcano on the verge of eruption, its every movement radiating a palpable, violent force.

The gray giant slowly turned to face Joanne, amplifying his shock. The creature's head was more reptilian than human, with a wide mouth bristling with sharp teeth. Its flat nose lay almost flush with its face, and on either side of the bridge ran two vertical rows of golden eyes—six in total. The uppermost and lowest pairs were symmetrically aligned, while the central pair was set wider apart. All the eyes gleamed with a chilling golden light.

Joanne had never seen such a terrifying monster. A chill shot from his heels to his scalp as he managed to back away, desperately trying to distance himself from the dangerous being.

The gray giant blinked all six eyes, surveying Joanne with a curious air. Then it turned toward the pine, sniffing deeply at the base of the trunk, apparently comparing Joanne's scent to one that lingered there.

Satisfied with the comparison, the giant nodded approvingly, turned, and gave Joanne a thumbs-up, bellowing a deep, resonant cry.

Joanne turned and fled in terror. Behind him, the gray monster kept shouting, repeating a word that sounded like "Maat."

It was clearly not a human language—nor Elvish, nor the Woodfolk tongue favored by fairies. Joanne vaguely recognized it as a term from the giant language, though he was far from fluent. In any case, drenched in cold sweat and gripped by fear, he had no mind to analyze what the creature meant.

He sprinted for twenty yards before misstepping and sinking rapidly.

"Damn, I've stepped into a bog!" Joanne cursed inwardly, struggling to free his legs from the mire's grip.

At this critical moment, the mud ahead rippled, and a log-like object slowly surfaced from the depths. Joanne glimpsed a pair of cold, narrow eyes watching him.

He instantly recognized the crocodile, and his heart plummeted.

The crocodile, having spotted its prey mired in the bog, swished its tail and glided closer, opening its disproportionately large mouth to reveal a maw full of dagger-like teeth that glinted menacingly in the noon sun.

Joanne watched helplessly as the crocodile drew near. In despair, he forced himself to stay calm, swiftly completed the gestures for a spell, and fired a ray of frost at the beast.

The icy blue beam struck the crocodile's throat, freezing its slavering tongue stiff, but inflicted no further harm.

Startled, the crocodile jerked its head back warily. After lurking in the bog for a time, it seemed to realize that the prey capable of such a feeble trick posed little threat, and began to edge forward once more.

At that moment, the gray giant’s roar rang out again, this time tinged with anger. Without needing to turn, Joanne could see with the eye on his neck that the giant stood atop the hill, bellowing furiously, as if loath to see the crocodile steal its prize. With a sudden roar, the giant smashed its fist into the pine tree beside him. With a thunderous crack, the ten-foot pine was snapped in half with a single blow.

Seizing the broken trunk as a club, the giant leapt down the slope and charged straight toward Joanne.

Joanne glanced at the onrushing giant, then at the crocodile poised to attack, utterly unable to decide which fate was preferable: to be devoured by the crocodile or smashed flat by the giant.

In the depths of despair, the giant closed in, raising the massive tree overhead and bringing it down with all his might.

Joanne squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for death's embrace. But instead, a rush of air passed him by, followed by a tremendous crash and a dying shriek.

Startled, Joanne opened his eyes in time to see the gray giant stride past him, tossing aside the bloodstained tree and reaching into the bog with an arm as thick as his thigh to drag out a crocodile whose skull had been pulverized to a pulp.

Only then did Joanne realize that the giant’s blow had not been aimed at him, but at the lurking crocodile.

The gray giant turned to Joanne, thrust his right thumb proudly at his own chest, and shouted, "Maat!" Then, pointing his little finger disdainfully at the dead crocodile, he uttered, "Maug!" in a tone dripping with scorn.

Though Joanne knew little of the giant tongue, the gestures made it clear: "Maat" meant praise or approval, while "Maug" signified the opposite—reproach or negation.

After a moment's hesitation, Joanne imitated the giant, raised his trembling thumb, and called out, "Maat!"

The gray giant paused, then broke into a joyous grin, thumping his chest with a resounding boom and shouting repeatedly, "Maat! Maat!"