Chapter Title: Trial of the Endless Swarm
The stench of sweat, blood, and damp stone clung to the air like a suffocating shroud. The cave trembled beneath their boots with every clash, every roar, every bone-crunching impact that echoed through its unforgiving walls. Light from conjured spells flickered across jagged surfaces, throwing shadows in every direction as Nick, Asher, Ethan, and the human students fought back-to-back, encircled by yet another wave of goblins.
Asher's chest heaved, breath sharp and erratic as he swung Emberfang in a wide arc. The fire-forged blade carved through two goblins in one motion, flames trailing behind in a brilliant arc. His blue hair, matted to his forehead with sweat and streaks of grime, clung like a tangled veil. Blood—not all of it his—splattered his tunic.
"Behind you!" Ethan's voice rang out hoarsely, strained with exhaustion.
Asher twisted on instinct. A goblin with rusted daggers leapt at him from the side, and he drove an elbow into its jaw before incinerating it mid-air with a furious upward slash. Emberfang pulsed with every swing, but even fire had limits. Asher's grip trembled. His fingers were raw where the sword's hilt met skin.
Nick stood at his flank, Zephyrfang twin blades slicing with precision and speed, wind magic coiling around his arms like serpents. Every movement was a blur—legs shifting, arms crossing, twisting, dancing in a deadly ballet. He struck low and high, using the draft of his own wind to deflect thrown spears and arrows. But the strain showed in his eyes, the tight clench of his jaw, the subtle stumble in his footwork after a parry.
A goblin broke through from the side—Nick struck—but his blade caught bone awkwardly, jarring his wrist. Pain shot through his arm. He grit his teeth, drawing in a harsh breath before flipping backward, summoning a wall of air to shove back the advancing foes.
"Not... stopping..." he hissed.
Ethan was on the opposite end of the makeshift defensive circle, Spellmirror Daggers flashing with lightning. The blades hummed with stored energy as he danced around slower goblins, each movement short and economical. Sparks jumped from his boots to the floor, little arcs of electricity casting rapid pulses of light.
One of the explorers behind him stumbled and screamed. A goblin had broken through—Ethan pivoted and surged forward, driving both daggers into the creature's chest. A thunderclap echoed through the cave. The blast sent goblins flying back—but it also knocked Ethan to one knee.
His breathing was ragged. He clutched his side, blood seeping through his jacket. A shallow cut—likely poisoned. He grimaced, forcing himself to rise.
Across from him, Serah spun with elegance. Her Mystweave magic shimmered as illusionary duplicates split from her body, casting confusion in the goblin ranks. She was graceful, swift—but not invulnerable. A goblin arrow clipped her leg, and she crumpled for a moment, one knee striking stone. Her illusions wavered.
Darius, gripping his crystal staff tightly, pushed in front of her, unleashing a barrage of sharpened magestone bolts that pinned goblins to the cavern walls. He panted, eyes glowing, veins along his temples pulsing with mana.
"This is insane," he barked. "They just keep coming!"
"They're stalling us," Aven muttered, barely audible. He stood over a complex sigil drawn into the ground with glowing blue runes, his fingers twitching with precision as he assembled another phase construct. Sweat poured down his brow.
Asher staggered toward the center of the group. "We have to move! This can't be all of them!"
He wasn't wrong. The goblins were relentless—bodies climbing over bodies, clawing, snarling, screeching as they flung themselves into the slaughter. Behind them, deeper into the cave, the faint glow of the Goblin Shaman's crystal pulsed like a heartbeat. It stood motionless, watching.
"Bastard's waiting for us to die," Ethan growled.
Nick threw his blades forward, then whirled as he kicked a goblin into a jagged spike of stone. "Then we won't die. Push through!"
The group surged forward, carving a narrow path through the horde. Spells burst. Lightning cracked. Fire scorched. Wind howled. But the goblins adapted. Some were armored, others larger. Some flung crude but effective net traps, trying to pin the explorers.
Aven took a hit to the chest—he fell, coughing, but Darius dragged him back, teeth clenched as he summoned a stone wall to block arrows.
Nick took a spear to the thigh. Blood ran freely, and he almost dropped to one knee before Asher caught him, growling, "Not yet. We're not done!"
They pressed forward another ten feet—twenty—bodies littered the ground. The cave floor was slick with blood. Then another wave hit. Stronger. Faster.
An ogre.
One of the larger goblin brutes roared from behind a crumbled column, dragging a massive iron club behind it. Its chest was scarred, armor stitched from bone and leather. It barreled into the group with crushing speed.
Nick barely had time to raise a wind barrier—it shattered on impact, throwing him back.
The brute slammed its club into the ground, sending a tremor. The explorers screamed. One was flung into a stalagmite—bone snapped.
Ethan pushed off the ground, face twisted with pain, and threw a dagger infused with lightning. The blast cracked the ogre's shoulder—but it only roared louder.
Darius and Serah combined their magic—Mystweave threads wrapped around the brute's limbs while magestone spikes locked its legs. Aven slammed a construct into its chest—but the ogre endured.
Then Asher stepped in.
His whole body seemed to blaze. Emberfang erupted with a towering flame as he charged, ignoring the ache in his arms and the fatigue in his legs.
"For every one of you that stands, I'll burn a hundred more!" he roared.
He leapt, sword overhead, and brought it crashing down.
The explosion lit the cave like dawn.
When the smoke cleared, the ogre was a scorched heap, limbs twitching. Asher dropped to one knee, gasping, spent.
They were alive.
But only barely.
Nick leaned against the cave wall, gripping his thigh. Ethan had his shoulder bound with torn cloth, the poison burning his skin. Aven's lip was split. Serah's leg was bloodied. Darius bled from his ear. The explorers huddled behind them, two of them unconscious, one dead.
And still—beyond the blood and fire—the Goblin Shaman stood.
Watching.
Silent.
Unmoving.
Its crystal pulsed brighter now, each beat matching the pain in their bones.
They hadn't reached him.
Not yet.
But they weren't giving up.
Not now.
Not ever.