Three seconds.
That's all I had to process my life choices before an ogre the size of a minivan tried to turn me into troll paste.
My first instinct? Run.
My second? Cry.
My third? Do both at the same time.
I went with option one.
I ran.
Not the cool, action-hero kind of running—more like the panicked, arms-flailing, screaming-internally kind.
Branches whipped against my face, roots tried to trip me, and my lungs burned like hell. But somehow, I was still alive.
Barely.
I dove behind a moss-covered log, sucking in deep breaths, my heart pounding like a war drum.
Silence.
Then—
THUD.
A heavy footstep. Close.
I peeked through the gaps in the log and spotted the ogre standing a few feet away. Sniffing.
Its massive nostrils flared, sucking in air like a vacuum, its beady eyes scanning the area.
It knew I was close.
And it was pissed.
With a frustrated snort, it raised its spiked mace and then...
BOOM!
It slammed the ground, sending dirt, rocks, and splinters flying in all directions.
I ducked, barely avoiding a rock that would've turned my skull into a cracked egg.
This thing wasn't playing around.
I clamped my mouth shut.
Not that I needed to breathe—pretty sure I was still running on adrenaline and blind terror alone—but any sound would be a gold-plated invitation to my funeral.
So i decided to use Camouflage.
[Skill: Camouflage (Passive)]
Description: The user instinctively blends into their surroundings, masking their presence from detection by predators, enemies, or tracking abilities. This passive skill alters the user's appearance to match the environment, making them nearly invisible when stationary or moving slowly. However, if a tracker ventures too close or possesses heightened perception, the illusion weakens, making the user easier to spot. Sudden movements or direct light exposure can also disrupt the effect.
The word popped into my head, and I focused on it.
My skin rippled, shifting colors and textures until I blended into the moss-covered ground. My arms, legs—everything—took on the same earthy greens and browns.
I was invisible.
Hopefully.
I held my breath and prayed to whatever gods hadn't already decided I was a dud.
The ogre paused.
Its massive nostrils flared as it sniffed the air again, its beady eyes narrowing.
Then it tilted its head like a confused dog trying to understand human speech.
I gulped.
Welp. So much for divine intervention.
The ogre stepped closer.
Right over me.
I pressed myself deeper into the dirt, every muscle screaming "DO. NOT. MOVE."
And then I smelled it.
An unholy mix of wet dog, rotting meat, and sweat so rancid it could probably peel paint off walls.
I had to fight the urge to gag.
This was it.
If this thing didn't move soon, I'd be passing out from its stench before it even had a chance to kill me.
The ogre grunted, nostrils flaring as it took another deep sniff.
Then—to my absolute horror—it reached down.
Oh, come on! How good was this thing's nose?!
Its thick, gnarled fingers dug into the dirt just inches from my leg, yanking up clumps of moss and soil.
My brain screamed at me to stay still, but my survival instincts had other plans.
I panicked.
Scrambling backward, I did the worst possible thing.
I stepped on a dry twig.
Snap.
The sound might as well have been a gunshot.
The ogre's head snapped toward me, its beady eyes locking onto mine.
For one terrible second, neither of us moved.
Then, realization dawned.
Camouflage compromised.
"…Uh-oh."
The ogre roared—a deep, guttural sound that shook the air around me.
It raised its spiked mace high, muscles bulging, veins popping.
I threw myself to the side just in time.
BOOM!
The mace slammed down, obliterating the log I had been hiding behind. Wood and dirt exploded in every direction.
Nope. Nope, nope, nope—
I didn't wait to see if it would miss again.
I got up and ran.
The world blurred around me as I tore through the underbrush, weaving between trees, vaulting over roots, and dodging branches like my nonexistent afterlife depended on it.
And considering the ogre behind me was tearing through the forest like a raging bulldozer, it probably did.
Every step sent leaves and dirt flying as I pushed my legs to their limit. The ogre's furious grunts and snapping branches grew louder, closer.
Too close.
Think, damn it! Can't outrun it. Can't outfight it. So what the hell am I supposed to do?!
Then, something hit me.
Literally.
A rock.
More specifically, a rock that I had just tripped over.
My foot snagged, my body lurched, and the next thing I knew—
WHAM.
Face, meet dirt. Dirt, meet face.
I spat out a mouthful of moss, groaning as I glared at the offending rock like it had personally betrayed me.
But then—
A spark.
An idea.
I scrambled up, fingers closing around the rock just as the ogre crashed through the trees, eyes locked onto me like a predator that had finally cornered its prey.
It was fast. Too fast.
I had seconds—if that.
But I also had a weapon.
A very small, very unimpressive weapon.
But screw it—I had an arm. A weak, probably pathetic troll arm compared to the ogre's, but an arm nonetheless.
I spun, pulled back, and with every ounce of desperation in my body, I let it fly.
"Eat this, you oversized sack of dumb!"
The rock bounced off the ogre's forehead with all the impact of a particularly aggressive marshmallow.
Thunk.
The beast froze.
It blinked. Once. Twice. Processing.
Then its entire face twisted in rage, and it unleashed a roar so loud that I swore my soul tried to eject itself from my body.
...Right. That was stupid.
Before I could do anything remotely intelligent, the ogre swung.
I ducked.
The mace whooshed overhead, missing me by inches but hitting the ground like a meteor. Dirt and rock exploded behind me, pelting my back as I bolted toward the nearest tree.
Climb. That was my only shot.
I leaped, scrambled up like a panicked squirrel, and just as the ogre reached for me—
I jumped.
Right onto its back.
Please let this be a good idea. Please let this be a good idea.
I latched on for dear life, digging my claws into its thick hide. The ogre howled, thrashing like a rodeo bull on steroids, trying to shake me loose.
I climbed higher, gripping tight, moving fast.
I only had one shot.
One opening.
I swung my claws and raked them straight across its eye.
It worked.
Kinda.
I barely had time to celebrate before a meaty, calloused hand clamped around my leg.
And yanked me off like an inconvenient sticker.
"Nonono—!"
The world blurred.
I was launched through the air like a discount action figure, limbs flailing uselessly.
BOOM!
I slammed into a tree spine-first.
The impact knocked the air clean out of my lungs, but physics wasn't done ruining my day. I bounced off like a glitchy ragdoll from a bad video game, tumbled through the dirt, and finally landed hard on my back.
Everything hurt.
My vision swam. My limbs twitched. My entire body was screaming in protest.
Something crunched when I moved. I really, really hoped that was the tree and not my ribs.
And then—
Warmth.
A slow, creeping heat spread through my body, pulsing from the inside out. The pain dulled. The aches faded. My wounds closed.
My bones set themselves.
My Regeneration skill was kicking in.
Oh, thank god—
Then my stomach growled.
Loud.
Like an angry demon demanding tribute.
A deep, gnawing emptiness spread through my entire body, curling around my insides like a starving beast.
I was confused as to why, and then I got my answer,
[Skill: Regeneration (Passive)]
Description: The user's body rapidly heals wounds, regenerating damaged tissue, sealing cuts, and mending fractures over time. This passive ability allows for continuous recovery, making the user highly resilient in battle. However, the accelerated healing process consumes significant energy, increasing hunger at an exponential rate. Without sufficient sustenance, prolonged use of Regeneration may lead to extreme fatigue, starvation, or even physical deterioration.
Regeneration was working overtime, burning through my energy reserves like a bonfire doused in gasoline.
And I hadn't eaten since…
Well.
Since I was reincarnated.
'Oh. That's bad.'
Worse, was that a shadow loomed over me.
The ogre.
Blood dripped from the injured one, trailing down its snarling face.
With a guttural growl, it raised its mace.
For the killing blow.
My brain screamed at my body to MOVE.
But exhaustion had its claws in me now.
My limbs felt like lead.
My vision blurred.
I was too slow.
'Damn it. Not like this.'
The mace swung down.
At the last second, my body moved on instinct.
I twisted—barely—dodging the brunt of the attack.
But the massive weapon still clipped my leg.
BOOM.
A shockwave launched me across the dirt.
I hit the ground, rolled, and barely stopped myself from crashing into another tree.
But before I could even think about scrambling away, a massive hand wrapped around my ankle.
And yanked.
I barely had time to choke out a curse before I was ripped backward like a ragdoll. My body dragged across the dirt, twigs scraping my arms, rocks digging into my skin.
Then...
WHAM.
A thick, meaty fist clamped around my throat and lifted me clean off the ground.
I gasped. My legs kicked uselessly in the air, but the ogre squeezed, cutting off what little air I had left.
The pressure was unbearable—like a vice grip of pure muscle crushing my windpipe.
Spots danced in my vision.
My brain felt sluggish.
The edges of the world dimmed.
No. No, no, no.
I refused to go out like this!
Summoning every last shred of strength, I raked my claws across the ogre's thick, leathery arm, tearing deep gashes into its flesh.
The monster grunted, but its grip only tightened.
My lungs screamed for air.
The darkness crept in faster now, swallowing the edges of my sight.
My second chance at life... was this it?