Kaerthlyn tilted her head, her brow furrowing slightly at his reaction. "Yes, that's what you call Kor’Morul," she said, nodding thoughtfully. Then, curiosity lit her gaze. “But why Grimwold? What does that word even mean? No one’s ever been able to tell me.”

Her question caught Elysian off guard. The straightforwardness in her tone paired with her earnest expression chipped away at his defenses. Slowly, he felt his fear receding, a weight lifting. It wasn’t logical—nothing about this situation was—but there was something undeniably disarming about her.

His wariness lingered, but it loosened its grip. For the first time since awakening in this place, Elysian felt a small flicker of himself returning.

‘She’s right. Why do we call the Great Forest—Grimwold?’

The thought churned in his mind, dredging up fragments of long-buried memories. Something stirred—an image, a voice—but not from this life. A phantom from the past. His gaze flicked to Kaerthlyn, studying her youthful, expectant face. A grin tugged at his lips.

“I’m not really sure,” Elysian admitted with a casual shrug, letting a playful note slip into his voice, “but I once heard a story from some drunk on the streets.” He paused, savoring the moment as her intrigue deepened.

Kaerthlyn leaned forward, her sharp ears twitching slightly. “Well? Tell me!”

‘She’s like Bran. Childish, innocent... They’d be fast friends if they ever met.’

Elysian couldn’t help but chuckle at her eagerness. “Alright, alright. So,” he began, sitting up straighter, “there was this general—back when the empires of Northcrest were still young. His kingdom had just fallen apart, and to top it off, his wife ran off with another man. The poor bastard drowned his sorrows in ale, got absolutely smashed, and stumbled to the edge of the Great Forest. He looked out at the trees, and in his drunken misery, he said it was as dark and grim as his own heart. He named it Grim Wood.” He paused dramatically, watching Kaerthlyn hang on his every word. “But since he was so drunk he could barely speak, it came out as Grimwold instead.”

Elysian laughed then, a deep, genuine laugh that he hadn’t felt in what seemed like ages. It rolled out of him, unbidden, until he collapsed back onto the bed, still chuckling.

When the mirth subsided, he glanced at Kaerthlyn. Her expression was… peculiar. She stared at him as if he’d just sprouted another head.

“What?” Elysian asked, raising a brow.

“You’re… strange,” she said, the faintest smile tugging at her lips.

“Strange?” Elysian echoed, feigning offense, though his grin betrayed him. “Why am I strange?” He tilted his head, as though genuinely curious, but before Kaerthlyn could reply, he barreled on. “Well, if strange means good, then I’m strange.”

A deep, rumbling chuckle erupted nearby, like boulders grinding together. The sound reverberated through the room, making Elysian flinch. His eyes darted to Brodhar, whose broad, massive shoulders shook with quiet laughter. The movement sent his long, tree-like arms swaying, and for a moment, Elysian’s breath caught in his chest.

‘One careless swipe of that arm, and I’d be flattened like dough.’

His jaw tightened as he forced himself to meet Brodhar’s gaze. The troll’s laughter might have been harmless—or at least he hoped it was—but the sheer power behind the sound unsettled him.

‘Tsk, don’t make this giant b*stard too excited. I’d rather not find out how fast he could turn me into a smear on the floor.’

Elysian’s eyes lingered on Brodhar, studying the hulking figure more closely. He was intimidating, not just for his size but for the aura of restrained strength he carried.

‘No, he’s not ordinary. That much is obvious. But now that I’m really looking... He’s stronger than the wounded Night Howler. Stronger than my father. Hell, stronger than Jareth—that scary old man.’

A cold realization slid through him like a knife.

‘If I were my old self, I wouldn’t be afraid. I’d be careful, sure, but not afraid. But now? In this weakened state, there’s no chance I’d win if we fight. Best I could do is survive—and even that’s debatable.’

Elysian shifted uncomfortably, his mind racing.

‘Damn these monsters. Why do they keep showing up when I’m still powerless?’

What unsettled him even more, though, was Brodhar’s demeanor. For all his obvious strength, the troll treated Kaerthlyn with a quiet deference that bordered on reverence. It wasn’t just respect; it was something deeper.

‘She’s important here. More important than I realized. If someone like Brodhar answers to her, it means her status is higher than his among these giants. And if Brodhar’s not the strongest in this clan, what does that mean for the others? How many more of them are there?

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

These beings have lived so close to Ironspire all this time... I had no idea.’

A chill crept up Elysian’s spine as the thought turned his face pale.

Brodhar’s chuckle faded, leaving a tense silence in its wake. Elysian forced a laugh, though it came out strained. He still didn’t know what had amused the giant so much, but he couldn’t afford to appear rude—or worse, offend him.

‘Just play along. Don’t give them a reason to turn on you.’

Elysian plastered on a smile, his mind already calculating.

‘I need to stay on their good side. If they want me to dance, I’ll dance. If they want me to sing, I’ll sing like some charming little jester. Whatever it takes. I can’t afford to piss them off.’

“By the way, I need to thank you for saving my life,” Elysian said, his voice steady though his thoughts raced. He turned his attention back to Kaerthlyn, eager to steer the conversation. Partly to calm his nerves, partly to forge a connection with the one person who might keep him safe. His gaze flicked to his arm, now whole again. “And my arm... I don’t know how you did it, but somehow, you managed to put it back together.”

Kaerthlyn smiled, a small, unassuming curve of her lips. “You don’t need to thank me. Saving your life was a small matter. It wasn’t a big deal at all.”

Her nonchalance left Elysian momentarily speechless. He blinked, then quickly shook his head. “It might be nothing to you, but to me, it’s everything. I’ve only got one life, you know.” His tone softened as he pressed on. “I want to repay the kindness you’ve shown me. I know it won’t be easy, and it might take time, but I’ll do it. I hope you’ll accept.”

Kaerthlyn tilted her head slightly, her expression thoughtful. “I’m not being modest when I say it was nothing,” she replied, her voice steady and earnest. “As you’ve probably guessed, my people are trolls. Healing comes naturally to us. Regrowing limbs, fixing wounds like yours... It’s neither expensive nor difficult for us.”

‘Trolls.’

The word settled into Elysian’s mind like a puzzle piece clicking into place.

‘Just as I suspected.The stories I’ve heard... Reclusive, ancient, and known for their regeneration. A race as old as Creation itself, hunted for the very abilities they possess.’

His eyes flicked over her, taking in her features—the subtle blend of human and troll. The realization sent a shiver through him, but he masked it with a smile.

‘Of course they’d live here, in Grimwold, of all places.’

“Still, I’m eternally grateful,” Elysian said, his voice warm as his smile widened. Thoughts raced behind the façade, calculating, piecing together possibilities.

‘If I play my cards right, befriending her—and her clan—could lead to unimaginable advantages.’

Elysian leaned forward slightly, his posture casual yet intentional. “And I mean it. You’ve given me something I can’t put a price on. I won’t forget it.”

“Sure, if you want to,” Kaerthlyn replied with a shrug, her tone indifferent. Elysian’s gratitude seemed to roll off her like rain on stone. “But if you really want to thank someone, it shouldn’t be me.”

Her casual gaze flicked over him, assessing. “I wanted to leave you behind, honestly. I don’t care about savages like you.” She said it with the same ease someone might comment on the weather. “It was my grandmother who insisted I save you. I still don’t get why.” She looked him over again, head tilted as if he were a puzzle missing several pieces.

‘Savages? Us—savages?’

Elysian stiffened, her words landing like a slap. His jaw clenched as his pride flared, and he cast a wary glance at their surroundings.

‘Does she even hear herself? She’s living in this... this place—in this terrifying, eerie forest and her race of trolls, and has the audacity to call us savages?’

Kaerthlyn’s expression, however, gave him pause. There was no malice in her eyes—just a frank, almost childlike honesty. Her innocent smile seemed genuine, not calculated to insult him.

‘Is it really any different from how we’ve viewed them? We call them savages, monsters, lesser beings... Why wouldn’t they see us the same way?’

The thought hit him with uncomfortable clarity. Elysian’s temper, ready to blaze, flickered and died. His mind turned over what he knew—what he’d heard in whispered tales of trollkind.

‘They’re an ancient race. Older than any human empire, older than the histories carved into this continent. And what do they see of us? Empires locked in endless war, kingdoms steeped in greed and bloodshed. Is it any wonder they look down on us?’

A sigh escaped him, unbidden, as he tried to suppress his pride and see the truth from her perspective.

“Is there a problem?” Kaerthlyn’s voice broke through his thoughts, her brows drawing together as she studied his sudden shift in demeanor.

‘Of course, there’s no problem. And even if there were... Could I even afford to tell her the truth?’

Elysian forced a smile, though it felt brittle on his face. Her immediate reaction—a faint recoil—spoke volumes. He winced inwardly and resisted the urge to touch his face, as though he could smooth it into something more agreeable.

‘Right. The smile. People said it was odd even in my past life. Something about it always came off... slimy. Like a bad merchant’s grin.

Not surprising, though. I was a merchant back then. Comes with the territory.’

“Well, no problem,” Elysian said, his tone overly light, the words slipping out with a forced cheerfulness. It felt like lacquer applied to a splintered surface—fragile and too bright. He glanced away, hoping to divert her attention from the awkwardness of his grin. “No matter your intention, you still saved my life. That doesn’t change anything.”

Kaerthlyn chuckled softly, nodding her head in response.

Elysian mused, letting the silence stretch just long enough to form his next plan.

‘Right. Don’t forget to meet her grandmother and express gratitude. Someone important like that should be my top priority. If I can get her on my side, maybe I’ll have enough leverage to get out of here alive. And who knows—this might even turn into something profitable.’

Elysian cleared his throat, his smile widening into the practiced, slippery curve he used when he wanted something. “By the way, I’d like to meet your grandmother so I can thank her in person,” he said smoothly.

Kaerthlyn tilted her head, a flicker of hesitation crossing her face. Before she could answer, Elysian hurried on, layering his voice with false humility. “I know it’s sudden. And for someone like me—a lowly savage—to ask to meet someone as important and highly respected figure of Clan Draekthar, it’s far too much to ask. But I hope you’ll accept my humble request.”

For a moment, Kaerthlyn simply stared at him, her expression unreadable. Then, a chuckle escaped her lips, light and amused. She shook her head. “My grandmother actually told me to bring you to her the moment you woke up.”

Elysian froze, his carefully constructed composure slipping. “Right, right,” he mumbled, struggling to recover from the sting of his own overeagerness. “Hmm... That makes sense.”

“You can’t meet her right now, though,” Kaerthlyn continued, her tone matter-of-fact. “She’s in an important council meeting. But I’ll take you to her as soon as it’s over.”

“Of course,” Elysian said, nodding quickly. His mind churned, already adjusting his plans.

‘Time to gather more intel while I wait.’

“By the way, Kaerthlyn,” he said, his smile sharpening as an idea took shape. “Could you show me around your home? I’d love to see more of this place, if you don’t mind.”

Her brow lifted slightly, curiosity flickering across her face, but she didn’t refuse outright. That was enough for Elysian.

‘Perfect. A chance to learn. Observe. And maybe even find something valuable to work with.’