"Yarrow! Where are you?"Zen's voice echoed through the cave, her tail sweeping a goblin aside with a fluid, powerful motion as she continued to call out.
"You only show up after the boss is dead." Yarrow lay on the ground, weak and drained of mana, a rare moment of vulnerability for him.
Suddenly, he snapped to attention, his eyes widening as he remembered something. He jumped to his feet and rushed towards Owen, who was barely conscious. Yarrow carefully removed Owen's helmet, revealing his blood-streaked face and rapid, shallow breaths. His body seemed to shake under the weight of the damage he'd endured.
Yarrow quickly uncorked a bottle of healing potion, pouring it into Owen's mouth. The effect was almost immediate—the color returned to Owen's face, his breathing steadied, and he blinked, coming to.
"Did we... Did we get the Goblin King?" Owen's voice was weak, strained, but still hopeful.
"Yeah, he's dead. I killed him," Yarrow replied, his voice steady as he helped Owen sit up. He pointed to the throne where Luth's body lay, a gory testament to their victory. "I didn't want you to feel bad, but I took care of it."
Owen's gaze lingered on the corpse for a moment. After a brief silence, he nodded. "I'm just glad he's gone. Doesn't matter who did it."
Before Yarrow could respond, a shadow loomed over them, and Zen appeared in the distance, her expression hard and calculating, eyes narrowed as if searching for danger.
"Damn it, Zen must've spotted Owen and thinks he's a goblin!" Yarrow cursed under his breath.
Before he could explain, Zen rushed towards them.
"Wait, Zen—" Yarrow started, but she was too fast. Without warning, she slammed into him, knocking him to the ground with a heavy punch.
"What the hell, Zen?! Why'd you hit me?" Yarrow grumbled, his nose bleeding from the force of the blow.
Zen froze, her expression flickering with disbelief. "Yarrow? You're still alive?"
"Of course, I am! What do you think, I'm dead?" Yarrow shot back, wiping the green blood of the Goblin King off his face.
Zen stared at him for a long moment, clearly unsure what to make of him. "I saw you lying there, all green... I thought you'd turned into a goblin... or worse."
Yarrow rolled his eyes. "Do you think this is a zombie movie or something? That's just blood on my face, not some infection!"
Around them, the remnants of the battle were still visible—goblins lay scattered, their bodies lifeless, while their teammates began to stir from the lingering illusion mist that clouded their minds. One by one, they slowly rose, groaning and holding their heads.
"It feels like waking up from a bad dream..."
"I swear I was surrounded by four men, all... Ugh..."
One of them glanced around, his eyes catching the sight of Russ's corpse. "The Goblin King is dead! We won!"
The group, who had done little to contribute, erupted in cheers.
Yarrow, irritated, shouted, "Quiet down! Now that the goblins are gone, let's go rescue the village chief's family. Stop celebrating."
The group quickly got to work, following his orders. Soon, the cave was quieter, save for the three remaining figures—Yarrow, Owen, and Zen.
Owen stood before the white bone throne, his expression somber as he gazed at Luth's mutilated form. His hand gripped his sword, though he did not move to touch the body.
Yarrow glanced around, spotting something of interest. "Hey, Zen, look at this staff. It's well-crafted, must be valuable."
Zen, still standing a little apart from the others, looked up, but her expression was distant. "Doesn't matter. Let's just finish up here."
Yarrow chuckled, clearly not satisfied with her response, and bent down to pick up the staff. "Well, I'll take it then. Maybe we can sell it for a nice sum."
As he examined the staff, he caught sight of something else. "Owen, what about splitting the loot? There's gotta be more worth taking from this place."
"No need. You take it all," Owen replied, his tone distant as he donned his helmet once again, ready to leave. "I've got more pressing matters to attend to."
Yarrow watched Owen walk away, his shoulders heavy. "He's still carrying too much baggage..." Yarrow muttered, shaking his head.
With a shrug, he climbed onto the throne, his fingers digging into the dead Goblin King's body to loot whatever was left. He carefully removed rings from the lifeless fingers, cutting them off one by one.
"Zen, come on, give me a hand," Yarrow called.
Zen's nose wrinkled in disgust. "I'll pass. Not my thing."
Yarrow just snorted, unfazed, and continued his task. As he worked, though, something caught his eye—a small, eerie movement. Russ's head was shattered, but from the broken neck, a strange, tentacle-like creature emerged, wriggling and pulsating.
Yarrow froze for a moment, eyes wide. "What the hell is that?"
Zen's gaze snapped to the creature. "That's... that's a Magic Bone Parasite Beast," she said, her voice tense. "It feeds on magic power but can also absorb and store it. A rare and dangerous parasite."
Before Yarrow could react, the parasite exploded from Russ's body, twisting and thrashing violently as it sought to escape. The sight left both of them stunned, a dangerous reminder that not all enemies were as they seemed.
Zen's golden eyes gleamed with a mix of surprise and fascination. "This... This is a creature only mentioned in ancient texts! And judging by its size, it's at least a thousand years old! Talk about luck."
"Luck?" Yarrow was incredulous, his eyes locked on the massive centipede-like parasite, which was twisting its way through the cave, its body several dozen meters long. It drilled relentlessly toward the cave ceiling, dislodging boulders and causing the very earth to tremble. "Are you sure that thing isn't a serious threat?"
Zen chuckled, her confidence radiating from her every word. "Threat? How could it be a threat with me here?"
She stepped closer, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "The ancient Dragon Clan texts say that while this parasite can grant the host tremendous power, it's powerless once it's detached. Without the host, it's just a giant, wriggling mess."
Yarrow's gaze never left the parasite, watching it slither with unnatural speed. "What do you mean, we should just keep it?" he asked, a slight disbelief creeping into his voice. "Raise it like some pet?"
Zen shot him a playful look, her lips curving into a teasing smirk. "Why not? Let it sleep in your bed and curl up next to you, see how it goes."
Yarrow shot her an incredulous glare. "Tch, you're unbelievable."
Zen clicked her tongue, clearly amused. "Humans... so boring. Always missing the bigger picture."
Yarrow's mind raced. He had a new understanding of how the goblin's magic worked. The power this parasite provided was likely the reason for the strength of the entire goblin tribe. It was no surprise now—this creature had been feeding them, empowering them all.
Zen snapped him out of his thoughts with a flick of her wrist, gathering deep blue lightning in her palm. "Time to end this little parasite's reign," she muttered.
Just as she prepared to strike, the parasite beast let out an ear-splitting hiss. The air was suddenly thick with a rich, pink mist that poured from its body, quickly engulfing the cave.
Zen's golden pupils dilated, shrinking as she instinctively covered her nose. But it was already too late—the mist was intoxicating, warping her vision, pulling her into a state of disorientation. The world around her began to twist, every shape shifting into something unfamiliar, and the edges of reality seemed to blur.
Yarrow's mind immediately snapped into focus. "Nerve toxin," he muttered, realization dawning. The world around him began to distort as well, his senses fighting to make sense of the chaos.
Without thinking, Yarrow bit his tongue hard, blood filling his mouth. The sharp pain jolted him back to reality, the mist losing its power over him. His vision cleared, but Zen was still struggling against the toxin, her golden eyes flickering with confusion.
"Zen!" Yarrow shouted, running toward her.
Before he could reach her, a shape shot out of the mist—massive, fast, and deadly. The Magic Bone Parasite Beast lunged at Zen, its ring-shaped mouth snapping open, rows of sharp teeth gleaming.
Yarrow didn't hesitate. He threw himself into the path of the creature, tackling Zen to the ground just as the beast's jaws clamped shut, missing them by mere inches. The parasite vanished back into the swirling mist, but the danger wasn't over.
Yarrow's heart pounded in his chest as he held Zen, his breath coming in quick bursts. He stared into her stunned face, adrenaline coursing through him. "You okay?" he asked, his voice rough, his hand still gripping her shoulder.
Zen looked up at him, her breath heavy, but she gave him a small, appreciative nod. "You saved me."
Her voice was soft, the vulnerability beneath her usually calm exterior evident. There was an unspoken tension between them, a shift that neither of them could quite name.
"Yeah, well," Yarrow said with a smirk, trying to lighten the moment, "It's not like I'm going to let that thing eat you."
Zen's lips quirked into a half-smile, and she raised an eyebrow. "How chivalrous of you, Yarrow."
He shrugged, still holding her close. "Someone's gotta do it."
The cave was silent for a moment, the danger still lingering in the air, but for now, they were safe.
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