The final goblin collapsed to the cavern floor with a sickening thud, Asher's Emberfang cleaving clean through its armored chest. Its body twitched once, then stilled, leaving only the ragged sound of heavy breathing echoing through the blood-soaked cave. Asher stumbled back, sweat soaking through his torn uniform, blue hair matted to his forehead.
"That was the last one," he said through ragged breaths, trying to catch his balance. The jagged flame still flickered along Emberfang's edge.
Nick sheathed Zephyrfang, his twin wind-forged blades now dull and chipped in several places. "For now," he muttered. "But he's still there. Watching."
At the far end of the chamber, beyond the piles of fallen goblins, the Goblin Shaman stood cloaked in shadow. His staff pulsed with an eerie green glow from the crystal embedded in its gnarled tip, but he made no move to attack. Instead, his gaze seemed fixed, not on them—but behind him.
Ethan narrowed his eyes, feeling the faint hum of electricity dancing along his Spellmirror Daggers. "He's not running."
"He's leading us," Asher said grimly.
The boys exchanged a glance. The Shaman slowly turned and began retreating into a darker tunnel, vanishing behind jagged stone and flickering torchlight.
Without speaking, they followed.
The path twisted sharply downward, leading them into the deep heart of the cave. The air grew heavier, thicker with dampness and something else—something old. Dust hung in every breath. Their boots crunched over scattered bones and discarded weapons, evidence of long-dead intruders who had dared to chase too far.
They emerged into a cavern larger than any they had seen so far. High above, stalactites hung like teeth, and at its center stood the Shaman. The crystal in his staff now glowed brighter, casting an eerie golden-green hue over the chamber.
"Stay sharp," Ethan said, sliding into a stance.
The boys spread out, forming a triangle. Emberfang pulsed with heat in Asher's grip. Zephyrfang blades hummed with faint cyclonic whirs at Nick's side. Lightning sparked silently along Ethan's daggers.
Then the shaman raised his staff, and the ground answered.
The battle began with a quake. The stone beneath them cracked and rose, jagged spears of earth thrusting toward them. Asher rolled aside, fire erupting from Emberfang in a broad arc, cleaving one spike in half. Nick leapt, spinning through the air as Zephyrfang sliced apart a second wave of rocky protrusions. Ethan darted forward in a blur of lightning, ducking a stone fist that emerged from the cavern wall.
The Shaman did not move from his place, but with each thrum of his staff, the earth danced to his will. Stone golems burst from the walls, crude in form but devastating in strength. One charged Asher with a deafening roar.
"I got it!" Asher yelled, slamming Emberfang down. A wave of molten flame erupted from the blade, swallowing the golem in a tide of burning fury. But the effort left him staggered, heat searing his arms.
"Too reckless!" Nick shouted, cutting down another golem with swift, precise slashes. He moved like wind itself, but a stone fist clipped his shoulder, sending him spinning across the floor.
"Nick!" Ethan called out, but had no time to reach him. Another golem cornered him, hammer-like fists pounding. Ethan deflected one with his dagger, the impact sending a lightning shockwave back at the construct. It reeled, stunned, but Ethan's knees buckled. Blood ran from a cut above his eye.
Asher pushed himself up, panting. His body screamed in protest. He looked over at his brothers, both struggling, both wounded.
The three regrouped, standing back to back.
"We're not giving up," Ethan hissed.
"We're finishing this," Nick growled.
"We end it. Now," Asher agreed.
They charged.
Asher unleashed a storm of fire, the flames from Emberfang now spiraling like a whip, lashing across the battlefield. The air turned scorching hot, goblin constructs melting under the heat. Nick moved like a blur, twin blades whistling, cutting through legs, arms, heads with dance-like precision. Ethan poured essence into his daggers, lightning arcing wildly around him. Every strike of his Spellmirror Daggers released pulses that surged through the golems, frying them from within.
Their coordination was raw, unpolished. Ethan's timing sometimes staggered with Nick's rhythm. Asher's flames nearly clipped Nick's shoulder in one burst. But they adapted mid-battle, instincts guiding them where training fell short.
The Shaman, now exposed, raised his staff high. The crystal burned brighter, and with a final incantationless gesture, he sent a wave of earth toward them.
The boys didn't flinch.
Ethan leapt forward, intercepting the attack. The Spellmirror Daggers absorbed the brunt, but the recoil sent him crashing backward, unconscious.
Nick caught Ethan before he hit the ground. "Asher!"
Asher surged forward. Emberfang flared, flame wrapping around the blade until it burned white-hot. He brought it down in a vertical strike, splitting the ground and the Shaman's defense with one final roar.
The Shaman tried to dodge, but too slow. The sword cleaved into his shoulder, splitting him in half with a hiss of burning flesh and shattered bone. The staff fell, clattering to the ground. The crystal stayed whole, pulsing faintly, dimmer now without its master.
Silence.
The cave trembled gently, the last echoes of the battle fading.
Nick slowly lowered Ethan. Asher dropped to his knees.
Then, in the corner of the chamber, something pulsed.
They turned to see a small stone altar. Upon it, nestled in a bed of woven moss and bones, sat three eggs. Each one was smooth and pale, like polished ivory. Faint patterns shimmered on their surfaces, glowing softly as if stirred by the battle.
The boys stared.
"He was protecting these..." Nick murmured.
Asher nodded slowly. "But from what?"
None of them had the strength to ponder more. They collapsed near the altar, breathless, wounded, and silent. The cave was quiet. The war was over—for now.