Mors could not help but laugh at the little trolls attempt at provoking him. Not only did he not understand the language, but it was also almost idiotic how obvious her plan was. However, it wasn't long before his laugh turned into a sigh and he shook his head feeling that the troll was too similar to how he was not long ago.

Jumping to a nearby tree, Mors peered down as he started forming a plan.

If I am going to make it back to the huntsmen fortress with enough time to pick up some clothes, I don't have a lot of time to waste. Better wrap this up quickly.

Initially, he had been hunting the local wildlife in an attempt to get used to his body and gain strength as well as an outlet for his frustration, when he stumbled across green skinned, humanoid creatures attacking a group of travelling, rabbit-eared beastkin.

Luckily, unlike the creatures, it seemed the beastkin spoke the common tongue, or whatever language Mors was currently speaking, and as the beastkin defended themselves, Mors had heard one of them, a young woman, call them trolls just before she was ripped in half.

The trolls were impressive, using their superior physical strength and combat prowess to easily overwhelm the defenders, quickly butchering them and packaging their meat for transportation. Soon another group of trolls appeared to transport the meat and the main group continued their hunt, disappearing into the forest like ghosts.

By utilising his keen senses, and his unique vision, Mors was able to stalk them through the forest and soon came across similar hunting parties, realising they were the dominant species of the area and top of the food chain, a terrifying plan started to develop.

Using the brutal attack and butchering of the beastkin, including their young, as an excuse to his lingering feelings of humanity, even though in all honesty, he did not care about their fate, Mors decided that the trolls were the perfect candidates for a brutal training regime. One that he would gain a lot of strength quickly, or die trying. 

At the start, he could barely fight against one, needing to use traps and ambushes to have any chance of winning but, as the days passed and his discovery of the benefits from devouring mana cores, he rapidly grew and honed his abilities. This resulted in entire hunting parties of experienced trolls being wiped out in a matter of minutes and even the complete extermination of some of their less fortified outposts.

After three weeks he finally managed to combine the subconscious muscle memories, which seemed to be linked to his locked memories, his savage instincts and skills into a vicious combat style in which every part of his body was a lethal weapon.

He had used the two days after meeting Verz to test his current limits and now felt that he could probably take on an army of trolls if it were in the confines of the dense forest. It may be their natural habitat, but it was one where numbers above a certain size would count for nothing, giving him the edge. The fight would not be honourable, he could never hope to win if it was, but to Mors, honour meant nothing. It was survival of the fittest where the victor took everything.

Letting out another sigh, Mors was slightly dejected. Giving himself over to his instincts and primal urge to hunt and kill, focusing on nothing but getting stronger had pushed his troubling thoughts to the back of his mind. Life was simple. Kill, eat, find water and sleep. There was no world-shaking organisation that he had a blood feud with, no people trying to use him for their own benefits, no people to irritate him.

Ahhh, if only I could have been born as a mindless monster without this stupid, overwhelming desire to get revenge and repay any slight with blood. Life would be so easy.

As Mors thought this, a warm tingling sensation passed over his body and quickly faded. He was only mildly shocked as it generally happened in combat. Little did he know this was his linked status stone, that had merged with his body, updating.

The old troll who was holding the two fiery orbs spoke, snapping Mors from his thoughts. "The monster relies on stealth and speed. Now little chief has cleared the area, it will be forced to engage us directly. Fight as one and remember, the weak are food for the strong."

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"The weak are food for the strong." All but one of the trolls repeated in a chant.

All but one of the trolls repeated the old trolls saying.

"It did not seem to work for those who tried before us," spat a spear wielding troll, remembering the fires and destroyed surroundings they passed as he released a whistle of annoyance.

"No... but running isn't working either," retorted the old troll, enraged that he had been spoken to in that manner. "If you want to run, then run. See how far you get. I am sure not only our ancestors but the spirits will laugh at you for your stupidi-."

"Finished?" interrupted Mors, finally deciding on a plan of attack and dropping down from the tree, landing with a dull thud and silencing the trolls.

As he slowly stood up, the trolls watched with stupefied expressions, their brains struggling to comprehend that the monster that had killed so many of them was only a humanoid youngling.

The large troll was the first to recover and started glowing red as he let out a guttural growl, pointing his sword at Mors. "A reptile, a mere reptile youngling has caused us so much shame? If I do not feast on its flesh tonight, I will never be able to face my ancestors."

Mors chuckled at the expected reaction and unknown, clearly vexed words. For some reason, the troll's were not affected by his aura or appearance in the same way as other species. Instead of fear, they seemed to become enraged as if his existence was the gravest insult.

This was the last reason why Mors continued to hunt the trolls. Other creatures in the area had been hunted to a low level, and thus, they would not fight him if he released any of his aura. This in itself resulted in an unexpected gain as he learnt to suppress his aura to a certain extent but even then, they were not much of a challenge as they were so weak.

Surprisingly to Mors, by thinking happy, none bloodthirsty thoughts, which was kind of hard when the joy of bloodshed was probably the happiest thought he had, Mors could completely suppress his ability, however, maybe due to his race or personality, this was an almost impossible task, especially in combat.

Without waiting for Mors to make the first move, the old troll fired his two fire spells only for his eyes to go wide in shock as they were exploded harmlessly on Mors' body, causing the demon to release a bright smile as he continued to train his aura suppression. "This group has two, that's two fire cores, ah ah ah."

The red glow surrounding the large troll intensified revealing he was using his species innate ability, commonly referred to as berserker bloodlust. Once triggered, it would empower their muscles, override their brains limiters and release copious amounts of hormones into the bloodstream turning the troll into an incredibly deadly foe.

Frowning, Mors' body slightly tensed. Due to the extreme backlash of using the ability, Mors found they only used it as a last resort, as even their comrades would take the opportunity to kill them in their weakened state, but it also meant that temporarily, they were vastly stronger than him.

Mors also believed that the activation of the ability seemed to be contagious, with nearby trolls following suit and was not shocked by the others quickly gaining the red mist. However, as the dim red light started to engulf Mayka, an old, wrinkled hand landed on her shoulder, instantly locking away her and Kia's ability. "It won't make a difference child. Save your strength. Not all battles are down to brute force and it's clear that this one is not as mindless as we first thought."

Removing his hand, he sighed, his golden eyes looking at the young boy in front of them without any emotion "No matter what I think of, if we fight him head on, we die. It's clear by his movements and attention that he has vast experience in fighting trolls and complete confidence in his victory. Even though he looks to be a lizard youngling, he is more monster than sentient race but that does not make him any less intelligent."

The old troll frowned before his eyes briefly flickered at Mayka as his words triggered an idea. "I wond-"

The old man's words caught in his throat as he watched the female archer, enraged by her ability and slightly spooked by the old troll's words, released her arrow, bright green magic wrapping around its head.

The arrow hissed through the air before coming to a sudden, jarring stop, the wooden shaft splintering as it smashed into a huge black, torn wing that had instantly appeared and slammed into the ground, protecting Mors from projectiles and blocking him from sight.

"Archers, keep its vision limited, the rest of you with me. We will kill this monstrosity and reclaim our honour." roared the large troll as he exploded forward, instinctually trying to take any advantage he could get.

Little did they know, mainly due to the wing that covered him, but Mors was humming a tune as he smiled absentmindedly, his eyes closed, watching them with his secondary vision as if his wing was not there. Pulling his other wing backwards and twisting it, so it was more horizontal, Mors' eyes shot open as he roared some of the lyrics to the song resonating in his head, causing the charging trolls to flinch, destroying their momentum. "LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOOOORRRR."