The camp reeked of rot and sour sweat as Goblinor and Goblar slipped back into the cave. Most goblins were sprawled in slumber, their snores a ragged chorus—all except a few dull-eyed stragglers picking at fleas. Goblinor scanned the shadows, nose wrinkling at the stench of dried feces caked into the stone floor. No discipline. No awareness. They're just meat with legs.
A low growl rumbled from the Troll's cave, deep enough to vibrate Goblinor's ribs. He froze, eyes darting to the massive stone doorway draped in tattered monster hides. Thud. Thud. Heavy footsteps, like boulders dropped onto earth.
"Hide," Goblinor hissed, shoving Goblar behind a jagged rock formation. His own muscles coiled, heart hammering. The Troll emerged into the dim light, hunched and massive—twice the height of a full-grown goblin, arms thick as tree trunks, skin a mottled gray-green riddled with old scars. Its single eye, milky and malevolent, swept the camp, nose flaring as it sniffed the air.
Goblinor dared not breathe. The Troll paused, staring directly at their hiding spot for a heartbeat that stretched into eternity. Then, with a snort, it turned toward the goblin sleeping quarters, lips peeling back to reveal yellowed fangs the length of Goblinor's forearm.
"WAKE UP, WORMS!" the Troll roared, voice echoing like thunder. Goblins jolted awake, scrambling to their feet, eyes wide with terror. The Troll loomed over them, chest heaving. "TWO DAYS! TWO DAYS SINCE YOU BROUGHT ME A DECENT MEAL! DO YOU THINK I RUN A RETREAT?"
A spindly goblin, barely taller than Goblinor's waist, stumbled forward, trembling. "M-master, we—"
The Troll's fist fell like a wrecking ball. The goblin's head vanished in a spray of blood and brains, body collapsing like a wet rag. Goblins screamed, scrambling backward, but the Troll was already grabbing another, this time a female with tattered ears. She screeched as it hoisted her overhead.
"LOOK AT HER!" the Troll snarled, holding her like a trophy. "SKIN AND BONES! YOU'D LET YOUR LEADER STARVE?!" It flung her into the stone wall—crack—her neck snapping at an impossible angle.
Goblinor's nails bit into his palms. The Troll wasn't just angry; it was enjoying this, relishing the fear in their eyes. In the simulation, the Troll had been a lazy brute, but here, in reality, it was a sadist, using violence to keep its subjects cowed. And Goblinor could sense its gaze lingering on the stronger goblins—himself included.
"NEXT TIME YOU RETURN EMPTY-HANDED," the Troll boomed, kicking a corpse, "I'LL EAT THE FIRST THREE OF YOU I LAY MY HANDS ON. NOW GET OUT AND HUNT! AND BRING BACK SOMETHING WORTHY OF MY TEETH!"
Goblins fled the cave in a panicked stampede, Goblar among them. Goblinor stayed hidden, studying the Troll as it retreated to its den, dragging a half-eaten boar carcass behind it. The creature moved with surprising grace for its size, shoulders rippling with muscle—far stronger than the simulation had depicted. A chill ran down Goblinor's spine.
So that's why the system warned me. In the first simulation, leaving the tribe had led to death by tiger; here, staying meant living under a knife. But confronting the Troll head-on was suicide. He needed a plan—a better plan.
He crept to the edge of the camp, eyes landing on the Troll's cave entrance. Moonlight glinted off something inside—Magic Crystals, dozens of them, piled haphazardly near the Troll's sleeping nest. The sight made his mouth water. If he could seize those crystals… but no. Not yet.
"Goblinor!" Goblar hissed from the shadows, waving him toward the forest. "The others are gone. Let's hunt while the Troll sleeps!"
Goblinor nodded, but his mind stayed on the crystals. The Troll had been hoarding them all along, probably too ignorant to realize their true power. But Goblinor knew—knew that each crystal was a step toward evolution, toward escaping this nightmare.
As they slipped into the woods, Goblinor gripped his wooden spear, newly sharpened from the boar hunt. The Troll's wrath had clarified one thing: there was no middle ground. Either he rose above this wretched existence, or he became another stain on the cave floor.
And he refused to be a stain.