The cave shook.
Not from magic, not from sorcery—but from weight.
Each step the goblin boss took sent vibrations through the stone floor, dust raining from the ceiling in thin streams. It emerged from the deepest chamber, towering over the fallen bodies of its kin, skin thick and scarred, tusks long and yellowed with age. In its hands was a massive weapon—part hammer, part cleaver—crafted from bone and iron, chipped and stained dark with old blood.
It roared.
The sound alone was enough to make Tyke flinch.
"So that's the boss," he muttered, breathing hard, blood still seeping from his injured leg.
Laxyie stepped forward instinctively, pale eyes glowing faintly in the darkness. His Sensory Veil painted the cave in layers—heartbeats pulsing, air currents shifting, traces of crude magic clinging to the goblin's body like smoke. The boss's heartbeat was enormous, steady, terrifyingly calm.
Too calm.
"Careful," Laxyie said. "This one's different."
Lyla rolled her shoulders, tightening her grip on her sword. "Figures."
The goblin boss charged.
Stone cracked beneath its feet as it closed the distance with shocking speed, swinging its weapon in a wide arc meant to crush everything in its path. Laxyie moved first—dodging, slipping under the swing, his dagger flashing as he cut across the creature's leg.
The blade barely broke skin.
Laxyie's eyes widened slightly.
The boss snarled and backhanded him with the haft of its weapon.
The impact was brutal.
Laxyie was sent flying, his body slamming into the cave wall hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs. Stone dug into his back as he collapsed to the ground, vision flickering.
"Laxyie!" Lyla shouted.
The Sensory Veil faltered. The heartbeat signals blurred. His new power screamed in his skull, untrained, overwhelming. He tried to rise—but the boss was already on him.
Tyke fired stone after stone, each shot striking the goblin's face and arms. It barely noticed.
Another step. Another raised swing.
Lyla rushed in, sword clashing against the massive weapon. The impact rang through the cave, sending sparks flying. She gritted her teeth as the force pushed her back several steps.
"Get up," she growled through clenched teeth. "Don't you dare stay down now."
Laxyie forced himself to roll aside as the goblin slammed its weapon down where his head had been moments earlier. The floor shattered. His ears rang. His vision swam.
I'm not used to this, he realized grimly.
I can see everything—but I can't react fast enough.
Tyke tried to stand and nearly collapsed, catching himself on the cave wall. "I can't… move much…" he said, frustration thick in his voice.
The goblin boss raised its weapon again, towering over Laxyie.
This time, it roared straight into his face.
Laxyie felt it then—not fear, not panic—but rage. His muscles screamed as he tried to move, but his body lagged behind his intent.
The weapon began to fall.
Then—
"ENOUGH!"
Lyla stepped forward and screamed.
It wasn't magic.
There was no glow, no external force, no borrowed power.
It was will.
Her stance changed—feet planted, spine straight, grip unyielding. Something surged through her body, through her blade, not as light or energy, but as presence.
Valor Manifest.
Raw intent made flesh.
Training, discipline, and soul forged into a single moment.
She drew in a breath so deep it felt like the cave itself paused.
"WAR CRY!"
Her voice exploded outward, echoing through every tunnel and chamber.
"Inspire allies—crush the enemy!"
The air trembled.
Laxyie felt it hit him like a hammer to the chest—not painful, but awakening. His heart thundered. His muscles responded faster. The noise in his head cleared, the Sensory Veil snapping back into focus, sharper than before.
The goblin boss recoiled, its massive form hesitating for the first time. Fear flickered in its heartbeat—wild, erratic.
Laxyie rolled to his feet just as the weapon came down again.
This time, he dodged.
Cleanly.
The swing passed inches from his head, smashing stone instead. He moved without thinking, his body finally catching up to his sight, slipping through the monster's reach like a shadow.
"Now!" he shouted.
Lyla surged forward, strength and speed amplified, her blade moving faster than before, each strike carrying crushing force. She cut deep—into muscle, into joints, into places the goblin had never needed to protect before.
Tyke, teeth clenched, fired one last stone—precisely straight into the goblin's eye.
It screamed.
Laxyie was already moving, climbing the creature's arm, dagger flashing as he drove it into the side of its neck—not deep enough to kill, but enough to stagger it.
The boss stumbled.
Lyla didn't hesitate.
She stepped in, raised her sword with both hands, and brought it down in a single, decisive arc.
The goblin boss collapsed.
The cave went silent.
For a moment, none of them spoke.
Then Lyla dropped to one knee, breathing hard. "That… was satisfying."
Laxyie leaned against the wall, chest heaving. "You scream like that often?"
"Only when necessary," she replied dryly.
Tyke limped over, grinning despite the blood on his leg. "Did you see that? I hit it in the eye."
Laxyie looked at him. "You did good lameass."
Tyke puffed his chest slightly. "Told you. Not a baby."
They laughed—quietly, exhausted, but alive.
After a short rest, they collected proof of the kill—the massive tusks, heavy and rough. Lyla slung them over her shoulder with a grunt.
"Worth a lot," she said. "And well-earned."
Laxyie nodded. "We did well."
Tyke looked between them, eyes bright. "So… what now?"
Laxyie glanced deeper into the cave, then back toward the faint light of the entrance.
"Now," he said, "we go back and enjoy a hefty meal."
And for the first time since this journey began, he meant all of them.