Oliver didn't bother hiding.

The moment he stepped into the open, every goblin turned its head toward the sound of his boots crushing dry leaves.

Five pairs of yellow eyes glinted in the half-light.

The lead goblin screeched, baring its teeth.

"Grahhh—!"

Oliver's response was the blur of a spear.

Shhhk!

The tip impaled the first goblin clean through the throat before the cry even finished. He wrenched it free with a twist, flicking dark blood off the blade.

The girl fell back, scrambling away in panic, clutching her torn sleeve. Oliver didn't spare her a look — his focus was on the other four charging him.

"Wind Edge!"

The runes along his weapon pulsed again.

A gust burst outward, hurling dust and leaves. Two goblins lost balance mid-charge, tumbling to the ground. Oliver stepped forward, spun, and drove his spear down—one strike through the chest, another through the skull.

The last pair hesitated, growling, unsure whether to fight or flee.

They chose wrong.

Oliver darted forward. His spear cut through the air with a faint whirr, the rune flaring again, and a compressed blade of wind tore through both goblins from side to side. Their bodies dropped before they could even scream.

He exhaled slowly, lowering the weapon.

"Five more down."

Then his eyes lifted toward the cave entrance.

The guards there had noticed the commotion.

Two goblins shouted warnings into the tunnel. More shadows moved inside—six, maybe seven shapes, and one larger than the rest.

"Sorry, boys," he muttered. "Bad day to pick a fight."

"Wind slash!"

Fwoosh! — the burst of air cut down the two stragglers before they could even scream.

The girl tumbled backward onto the ground, dazed and trembling, staring at the green-skinned corpses around her.

Oliver knelt, pulling a long, dark overcoat from his space pouch and throwing it around her shoulders.

"Here. Put that on."

Her hands shook as she clutched the fabric.

He produced a small vial next, uncorked it, and pressed it gently into her hands. "Drink it. It'll help."

The girl obeyed instantly, gulping the potion down. Faint light glowed across her cuts and bruises; the bleeding stopped, the torn skin sealed. The color began to return to her face.

Oliver's tone softened slightly. "Can you make it back to the road alone? Or do you need me to escort you?"

"I… I can walk," she said quickly, voice trembling. "I'll go. Please… just make them stop…"

He nodded once. "Go. Follow the path east — you'll reach the farms."

She didn't wait a moment longer. Wrapping the coat tightly around herself, she fled, her footsteps fading into the woods.

Then silence again.

Oliver turned toward the den, eyes narrowing.

'Time to end this.'

He stepped into the cave.

The stench hit immediately — rot, blood, and filth. The air was thick, damp, suffocating. Piles of refuse littered the ground; bones and broken weapons jutted from the dirt. The walls were scrawled with crude markings in dried blood.

Oliver's lip curled. "Animals…"

He pressed on, deeper.

The flickering light from crude torches revealed the extent of the chaos. Goblins of varying shapes moved through the tunnels — not just the common kind.

There were larger ones with jagged bone armor — goblin soldiers. A thin, gray-skinned one holding a crude staff — a goblin shaman.

They noticed him.

"GRUAAAH!"

The nearest soldier roared, charging forward.

Oliver didn't back down.

He raised his hand. "Fireball!"

A red glow gathered in his palm before streaking forward.

BOOM!

The fireball exploded, incinerating the lead goblin and scattering the others in panic.

He darted through the smoke, thrusting his spear straight through another's skull.

"Wind Edge!"

Shhhk!

The gust carved through two more.

He twirled the shaft and blocked a club strike, countering with a kick to the creature's gut, then slammed the spear down through its throat.

One of the shaman's spells flew — a ball of green sludge hissing through the air. Oliver ducked behind a rock, the corrosive acid sizzling on contact with stone.

He gritted his teeth, rolled out from cover, and hurled a fireball of his own.

The shaman screeched — BOOM! — flames engulfed it, the echo bouncing through the cave.

Oliver's breathing was steady, his movements sharp. He wasn't the same man who'd barely survived his first dungeon weeks ago.

He stepped over a pile of corpses and moved further inward.

The smell worsened — a pungent, cloying mixture of blood and decay. He gagged, covering his mouth with his sleeve.

The deeper he went, the more horrifying the sight became.

Human bones lay scattered, mixed with scraps of cloth and jewelry — wedding rings, hair ties, children's shoes.

He clenched his jaw.

'They didn't just raid villages. They wiped them out.'

Then came the sounds.

Soft sobs.

Broken cries.

Feminine voices, muffled — pleading.

Oliver froze, heart pounding. The sounds were coming from ahead.

He rushed down the narrow tunnel, ignoring the filth beneath his boots.

The smell hit him first — sour, rancid air heavy with blood and decay. The narrow tunnels opened into a wide chamber lit by dozens of torches jammed into the dirt walls.

And what Oliver saw made his stomach twist.

Dozens of women were trapped in rough, wooden cages — beaten, dirty, some trembling in silence. Many looked like villagers, dressed in tattered rags, but a few still wore the remnants of adventurer gear, armor stripped and torn. Several of them were visibly pregnant, their faces hollow, eyes blank.

"Those bastards…" Oliver muttered, rage burning behind his teeth.

Then a scream split the air — sharper than the rest.

His head jerked toward the sound.

A woman in a torn white mage's robe was being dragged across the dirt by a group of goblins, their claws digging into her arms as they hauled her toward a makeshift platform.

And there, sitting atop a crude wooden throne, was a monster that dwarfed them all.

The creature was easily four times the size of a normal goblin — its skin dark green, muscles bulging, jagged fangs jutting from its lower jaw like tusks. Bones and crude metal adorned its shoulders like armor. Its yellow eyes gleamed with malice.

A hobgoblin.

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