Colin and Elara crouched down in the tall grass, holding their breath to avoid making a sound. Their gazes remained fixed on the group of trolls camped near a dark, yawning cave.
The trolls were massive, with gray, scaly skin stretched over thick muscles, flat heads, and jagged teeth. They wore crude leather and metal armor and wielded axes and clubs with rusted edges. Their conversation was a mix of grunts and half-formed words, their language as primitive as their appearance.
"What are they saying?" Elara whispered, her brows knitting as she tried to decipher the trolls' guttural sounds.
"I don't know, but it's probably nothing clever," Colin replied, a faint smirk betraying his nerves.
"Colin… trolls only know how to kill and eat, and you promised me: if things get serious, you'll run away. Do you understand?"
Her plea hung in the air, a fragile thread pulling at his resolve. It felt like a thorn of worry had lodged itself deep in his chest.
Tsc…
"I know. Now, stay calm." He began to draw his sword, the soft hiss of metal against the scabbard mingling with the rustling of the leaves.
As they spoke in hushed tones, the trolls continued their crude banter, their voices a chorus of growls and snorts.
"I want meat!" one troll grumbled, smacking his bloated belly. "Fresh meat, not that dried crap."
"Human. I want to eat humans," said another troll, its lips curling back to reveal blackened gums. "The last ones were delicious." It tossed a gnawed arm toward the first troll. "Eat that and shut up."
"Arm bad. Leg good," the first troll muttered, biting into the arm with a grimace. "Why not hunt bugs?"
"Because boss said stay here," the second troll replied, its yellow eyes flicking toward the largest tent at the camp's center. "He said he has plan."
"What plan?" the first troll asked, curiosity in its dull eyes.
"Dunno. He didn't say." The second troll shrugged, sending a cascade of lice from its matted hair. "But must be good. He said we'll fill bellies!"
Right… three of them, and the leader must be in the tent. I've got speed on my side, and they're idiots. Their skin looks tough, but their mouths and eyes are still weak points… Okay… time to move.
Before Colin could spring into action, Elara's hand shot out, wrapping around his wrist. Her green eyes shimmered with unspoken fears.
"Be careful…"
Her words echoed within him, a gentle chime in the midst of the approaching storm.
A sense of duty, tempered by an undercurrent of unease, tightened around his chest. For the first time, he truly felt the weight of his promise to her. His presence there, at least for her, was more necessary than any battle he might win.
That realization rooted him in place, a fleeting hesitation as he exchanged a look with the cleric—one filled with unvoiced promises and fragile hope.
"I'll be back."
Colin nodded and slipped through the tall grass. The trolls continued their meaningless chatter, oblivious to his approach as he made his way to the tent where the leader was resting.
With practiced stealth, he moved behind the tent and poked a small hole with his finger, peeking inside. The troll leader snored loudly, each breath a rumbling growl that shook the air. Silently, Colin cut a larger hole in the fabric and slipped inside, his movements fluid and deliberate.
The leader of the trolls lay sprawled atop a pile of dirty, torn skins, its massive body riddled with scars and festering wounds. It was even larger and more muscular than the other trolls, with a necklace of teeth and bones hanging heavily around its neck. The creature's snores punctuated the thick, rancid air, each exhale a gust of hot, putrid breath.
The tent reeked of decay. Skulls, rusty weapons, scraps of rotting food, and gnawed bones littered the floor. The smell was a noxious blend of blood, sweat, feces, and rot. Colin's stomach churned, but he swallowed the bile rising in his throat, forcing himself to focus.
He approached the slumbering beast, his sword held with the tip aimed directly at the creature's eye.
One strike. All my strength!
His grip tightened around the hilt, veins bulging beneath the dark fabric of his long-sleeved blouse, muscles coiling like springs.
Schtick!
His blade pierced through the troll's eye, splitting bone and brain in a single, brutal motion. The snoring ceased instantly. The leader lay still, its monstrous form reduced to a corpse.
"Great! Now I just have to deal with those three idiots outside!"
Abandoning his stealth, Colin pushed through the tent's front flap, his sword dripping with purple blood.
The trolls outside remained blissfully unaware until his voice cut through the camp.
"Hey, idiots!"
They turned, three brutish heads snapping to attention, their dull eyes widening.
"Your boss is gone."
What is he doing? Thought Elara, still hidden, her hands gripping her staff tightly.
The trolls' surprise twisted into fury as they saw Colin standing before them, his sword glistening with their leader's blood.
"Human! Human bastard!"
"He's not human," the second troll corrected, sniffing the air. "He's an Elf, a Dark Elf!"
The trolls hesitated, their massive feet shuffling back a step. Colin's lips curled into a sly smile.
"Did I scare you?"
"Let's finish off the Elf! The legs are mine!" one of them roared.
Grunts and howls erupted as the trolls brandished their crude weapons and charged. Their thoughts seemed more occupied with the promise of fresh meat than the loss of their leader.
I'm stronger and faster—that's a fact. My stamina is high. I barely slept after spending almost the entire night at the lake with Elara, yet I don't feel tired at all. I can win!
Colin surged forward, meeting their charge head-on.
Shink!
The first troll swung its axe, but Colin ducked gracefully under the blow. He leapt, twisting through the air, and drove his blade into the troll's open mouth. The creature crumpled, gurgling as purple blood poured from its split jaw.
"One down!" he exclaimed, a spark of triumph in his voice.
The second troll lunged, its club arcing toward Colin's back. Sensing the attack, he stepped forward, blocking the strike with his sword. The force of the blow sent him skidding backward, his boots carving furrows in the dirt.
These idiots are strong!
Regaining his footing, Colin sidestepped another wild swing. He bent his knees, focused his strength in his legs, and launched himself forward. His blade found the troll's throat, cutting through muscle and windpipe.
Schtick!
The troll collapsed, clawing at its neck as it drowned in its own blood.
"Two down!" Colin declared, his confidence swelling.
The third troll, witnessing its companions' swift demise, recognized the futility of a direct fight. It grabbed a stone the size of a soccer ball and hurled it with desperate strength.
Colin tilted his head just enough for the rock to sail past, missing him by inches.
Panic seized the troll, and it turned, bolting toward the forest.
"You won't get away!" Colin shouted, his voice a razor against the troll's retreat. "You'll meet the same fate as those bastards!"
He launched himself into pursuit, each stride eating up the distance between predator and prey.
Schtick! Schtick!
The troll, cunning like a seasoned survivor, dodged deftly, its bloodshot eyes fixed on Colin with a hateful glare.
"Damned elf!"
It grabbed a stone and hurled it with surprising speed. Colin, swift as a shadow at dusk, swayed gracefully to the side.
Whoosh!
The stone whistled through the air, slamming into a nearby tree.
Squelch!
That was close!
Determined, Colin advanced. He lunged forward, sidestepping a heavy punch, slipping behind the towering beast.
Bam!
A sharp kick to the back of the troll's knee sent it buckling. Colin aimed a precise strike at the back of its head, but the creature twisted awkwardly, avoiding a fatal blow—yet losing an arm in the process. It howled, a guttural roar of pain and rage.
"Damn you!"
Fury ignited in the troll's eyes. Ignoring the severed limb, it retaliated by launching another stone. Colin, his reflexes razor-sharp, slashed the rock mid-air, shards scattering like broken teeth.
This feeling… it's the same as when I killed that man in the barn and fought the bandit in the cave… My whole body is throbbing… craving it… The smell of the troll's blood, the weight of the sword in my hand, my heart pounding… It makes me want to tear this monster to pieces!
The confrontation escalated as the troll, now in a frenzy of muscle and rage, tore a tree with dry branches from the ground. It swung the makeshift club with wild abandon.
"I'll eat your leg!"
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Blow after blow, the tree splintered under Colin's agile defenses. His sword danced, deflecting and slicing through the wooden onslaught.
"You're fast, rat!" the troll bellowed, saliva frothing at the edges of its cracked lips. "But my strength is greater than yours!"
Their clash continued, a symphony of grunts, metal against wood, and the thunderous stomps of the troll's massive feet.
"He's right," Colin thought, breathing heavily. "That creature is stronger than me, but I have the advantage!"
His confidence was shattered when a powerful swing struck him. His sword slipped from his grip as he tumbled to the ground.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
The troll's blows rained down, one slamming into his shoulder, the others crashing into his ribs. Pain flared through his body, but his mind remained sharp.
This monster is too strong, what a piece of shit!
"You worm!" the troll growled, towering over him. "Now I'm going to smash your head in!"
Despite the throbbing agony, Colin refused to surrender. He rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the crushing blow. The tree-turned-club splintered against the earth, a shockwave of dirt and debris exploding into the air.
He scrambled to his feet, his fingers curling around his sword's hilt. Without hesitation, he charged.
The troll, clutching a jagged shard of wood, swung desperately. Colin slid beneath the attack, his body skimming the grass, and slashed upwards. His blade found the creature's groin, drawing a fresh spurt of dark blood.
The monster staggered, its movements sluggish. Colin capitalized, his instincts sharpened by the scent of blood. He circled behind it and, with a savage thrust, drove his blade through the troll's back and into its heart.
Schtick!
The troll let out a strangled cry, its voice dying in a pitiful gurgle.
"Arrg! You… shit…"
Its colossal frame crumpled. Colin yanked his sword free, the body collapsing in a heap. The forest seemed to exhale, the echoes of battle fading into silence.
All the ecstasy he had felt was gone, leaving only a hollow ache.
"It's over…" He sank to the ground, a low, weary chuckle escaping him. The laughter grew, quiet and unsettling, until Elara emerged from behind the trees.
"Colin!"
Her voice was a balm, breaking through the haze of battle.
She had lost sight of him when they entered the forest. She had heard the screams, the crashes, the howls—and feared the worst.
When she reached the clearing, the sight of the troll's lifeless body made her breath catch in her throat. Then she saw Colin, bloodied but alive, and relief crashed over her.
She ran to him, dropping to her knees and wrapping her arms around him. Her embrace was fierce, as if she could meld their bodies and shield him from all harm.
Tears streamed down her flushed cheeks. Her sobs were raw, each one a release of the terror she had held back.
"Colin!" she gasped. "You're all right! You're alive!"
"It was just a troll," he muttered, his voice muffled against her hair. "I wasn't going to lose to him."
"I was so worried about you!" she choked out. "I started to remember my brother and—"
"I'm fine," he whispered, his fingers brushing through her hair. "I made it. I'm still alive."
He pulled back gently, his expression softening as he wiped away her tears.
"Let's search the camp, find something valuable, take the heads, and go back."
"Yeah…" She wiped away her tears, a shaky smile breaking through. "You're incredible… You defeated a group of trolls all by yourself… You don't even seem like the same person from a few weeks ago… How did you get so strong so quickly without using magic?"
"I still don't know… Sometimes, I just feel like I can do anything, and then…"
"Stay still. I'll heal you."
Their gazes locked, and a nervous twinge rippled through Colin's body.
Elara seemed almost transformed. Her aura radiated a warmth and an ethereal light that held him captive. Even the simple touch of her hands on his face sent a wave of comfort through him, a gentle warmth that seeped into his wounds, knitting skin and easing pain.
Unlike the night before, the cleric's demeanor was suffused with tenderness and affection. Her touch wasn't merely physical—it was an unspoken promise, a connection that hummed with a deeper emotion.
Colin, the hardened troll-slayer, found himself disarmed. His instinctual walls quivered, bricks loosening under the gentle pressure of her kindness.
Seeing Elara like this stirred something inside him—something both intriguing and unsettling.
His experiences with feelings like this had only led to pain. He had built his armor thick and sturdy, but Elara's gentle and affectionate behavior was a blade slipping between the cracks, triggering a complex mixture of distrust and unease.
Still, as her hands cradled his face, a strange sensation washed over him. It was as if, along with his physical wounds, his emotional scars were also healing. Her presence seeped into the dark corners of his mind, bringing light to places he had long forgotten.
"There…" she whispered, her voice a soft melody.
Colin's throat tightened. He broke eye contact, his gaze hardening as he pulled away.
"Right…" His voice was low, almost gruff. He stood, brushing dirt from his clothes. "Let's go…"
He moved forward, not waiting for her to follow, his steps steady but his mind anything but.
Behind him, Elara lingered for a moment, her expression a mix of sadness and hope, before she trailed after him, the light of her aura dimming under the weight of his retreating shadow.