"You..."
Talia started but cut herself off.
Her jaw tensed, her fingers twitching slightly at her sides.
She looked like she wanted to argue—but for some reason, she didn't.
I let out a weary sigh, rolling my shoulders.
"Our views don't align. I won't pretend otherwise."
She frowned.
"Because of what, exactly?"
Her voice dipped, quieter, but sharp. "What is it that drives you?"
I held her gaze for a second.
Then, without hesitation, I answered.
"Hunger. Strength. Survival."
Yes. That was it.
Even now, the hunger burned inside me.
A constant craving—not just for food, but for battle. For power.
I wanted to level up.
I wanted to grow stronger.
I refused to be at the mercy of this world's monsters.
I refused to be prey.
I would be the apex predator.
And if that meant walking a path of violence, so be it.
Talia's jaw tightened. Her fists clenched at her sides. "And you think you can't achieve that without going against humans?"
I exhaled through my nose. "We both know that's impossible."
I took a step closer. Not threatening—just firm. "Even our mere existence unsettles them. Humans will never be at ease until every last troll is erased. So no, I don't think I can achieve my desires without going against them."
I met her eyes, unwavering. "I don't think magic can return without going against them. I don't think we can even exist without going against them."
I knew what humans were capable of.
Because I had been one.
I had seen it firsthand—how weakness was preyed upon, how the strong dictated the fate of the weak.
Peace and violence weren't opposites. They were two sides of the same coin.
Without war, there would be no craving for peace.And without peace, there would be no reason to seek war.
One could not exist without the other.
"I refuse to believe that," Talia said firmly.
I exhaled sharply, irritation creeping into my voice.
"Then you're naive. It's as simple as that."
She flinched, just for a second.
Then her chin lifted, shoulders squaring as if steeling herself.
Her eyes locked onto mine, sharp and unyielding.
"You think I'm naive?"
Talia's voice was steady, but I could hear the heat beneath her words.
A quiet, simmering rage.
She wasn't used to being challenged.
But I wasn't about to back down.
"Respectfully, yes." I met her gaze, unflinching. "Your idea of peace is hiding, avoiding, and refusing to retaliate. That doesn't prevent conflict—it invites it. It's the same as walking into a den of wolves and hoping they won't bite."
Talia's lips parted, ready to argue—then she hesitated.
A flicker of doubt crossed her face before she let out a slow breath.
"Aren't you afraid of dying?"
"I am. But...Better dead than living in a self-confined cage."
The words left my mouth before I could stop them, raw and sharp.
Because I could see it—the life I left behind.
The dim glow of a computer screen in a dark room.
The stale air of isolation.
The endless cycle of waking up, existing, and shutting down again.
I had spent years avoiding people. Avoiding life.
Because the world had crushed me one too many times.
No—because I had let it crush me.
I let them win.
The bullies.
The world.
My own damn fear.
I played games.
I hid.
I drowned myself in virtual worlds, pretending none of it mattered—until my body finally gave out.
And I died.
I wasted away in a dark room, unnoticed, forgotten.
The most pathetic ending possible.
Never again.
Talia's voice was softer now, hesitant. "I'd do anything to protect my people."
Her hands trembled slightly, betraying the weight of her words.
"Then do it without me."
Her gaze locked onto mine, piercing.
"And if you are the Chosen One?"
I scoffed. "I don't care."
But even as I said it, something in me twisted.
Because some part of me—some small, buried part—wasn't sure if that was true.
Talia's shoulders sagged, her expression unreadable.
Then she murmured, almost to herself,
"Thats unfortunate."
She turned away, lifting a hand to point at a nearby hut.
"You'll sleep there. Tonight."
A pause.
Then, more firmly, "Tomorrow, you can leave."
I gave a small nod, accepting her words without argument.
Turning on my heel, I made my way toward the hut, feeling her gaze on my back the entire time.
Inside, the space was simple—warm and quiet. A large woven mat covered most of the floor. It wasn't exactly luxury, but as a troll, even the cold ground would've been enough.
With a sigh, I lowered myself onto the mat.
As soon as I did, a small blur of fur leapt onto my chest. Drakon.
He nuzzled into my neck, his tiny body radiating warmth, his breathing slow and steady.
I exhaled, staring up at the dark ceiling.
My mind was restless, thoughts swirling like a storm.
But then Drakon shifted, his tiny body pressing closer, his warmth seeping into my skin.
For the first time in a long time… I didn't feel alone.
I let out a slow breath.
And relaxed.
My eyes closed.
Then—The world shook.
BOOM.
My eyes snapped open as the force rattled the hut, dust falling from the ceiling.
A second later, the deep, bone-chilling sound of a war horn ripped through the night air.
Instinct took over.
I shot up, muscles tense, my fingers already gripping my axe before my mind could fully process what was happening.
Drakon squeaked, startled, clinging to my shoulder as I stormed outside.
Screams. Fire.
My stomach dropped.
The village was under attack.
And the attackers were...
Humans.
Dozens of them, clad in dark armor, their weapons glowing with enchanted fire.
Flames crackled, spreading across the wooden huts, thick black smoke curling into the night sky.
I watched as they cut down trolls without hesitation—blades slicing through flesh, fire consuming everything in its path.
A few minutes ago, this was a night of feasting, laughter, and warmth.
Now? it was a massacre.
And that pissed me off.