As Aeon lay gasping beside the goblin's corpse, fragments of memory began to surface from his time in the slave camp. He had seen the bandits returning from dungeon raids, their packs heavy with loot and their conversations focused on one particular prize—small, glowing crystals that they guarded more carefully than gold or weapons.
"Each crystal's worth ten slaves at market," one had bragged to his companions.
"The dungeon spawns them inside the creatures," another had replied. "You just have to dig them out before they dissolve."
Inside the creatures.
Aeon forced himself to sit up despite the agony in his broken hand. If the bandits valued these crystals so highly, and if they were found inside dungeon monsters, then this goblin might contain exactly what he needed to eventually escape this place.
The thought of cutting into the corpse with his bare hands made his stomach lurch, but he had already crossed so many lines of human decency that one more hardly mattered.
Using his uninjured left hand, Aeon began searching the goblin's body for any sign of the crystal. The skin was tough and leathery, requiring him to use his broken fingernails to tear through the hide. Black blood oozed from every incision, staining his hands with fluid that smelled like rotting meat.
He found it embedded in the creature's chest cavity, just below where a human heart would be located. A small crystal, no larger than his thumb, that pulsed with internal light like a captured star. The moment his fingers closed around it, he felt a strange warmth spread up his arm—not unpleasant, but definitely unnatural.
One crystal. How many do I need to escape?
The bandits had spoken of collecting dozens before attempting to leave the dungeon. If that was true, then he had a long, bloody road ahead of him.
Aeon pocketed the crystal and continued down the corridor, following the twisting path deeper into the dungeon. His broken hand throbbed with every heartbeat, but he forced himself to keep moving. Staying in one place too long would only invite more trouble.
The corridor eventually opened into a larger chamber dominated by a small pond of clear water. The sight of it made him realize just how desperately thirsty he was—between the sewers, the fire, the portal, and the fight, he hadn't had anything to drink in what felt like days.
He approached the water cautiously, scanning the chamber for threats before kneeling at the pond's edge. The water looked clean enough, and at this point, he was too dehydrated to be picky about potential contamination.
Aeon cupped his left hand and brought the water to his lips. It was cold and sweet, better than anything he had tasted in either of his lives. He drank greedily, using both hands despite the pain from his injuries, splashing water on his face to clear away the goblin's blood.
The sound of approaching footsteps made him freeze.
Multiple sets of feet, moving in coordination rather than the random wandering of a single creature. Aeon spun around to see four goblins entering the chamber, their weapons drawn and their yellow eyes scanning the area with predatory focus.
They hadn't spotted him yet, but it was only a matter of moments before—
One of them pointed directly at him and let out a chattering call that brought the others' attention to his position.
Four of them. I can barely move my right hand. No weapons except rocks.
There was nowhere to run. The chamber had only one entrance, and the goblins were blocking it. The walls were too smooth to climb, offering no escape routes.
But there was the pond.
Without hesitation, Aeon threw himself backward into the water. It was deeper than he had expected, easily over his head, but the shock of cold immersion helped clear his mind of pain and exhaustion.
He held his breath and swam downward, hoping the goblins would assume he had drowned or would lose interest if they couldn't see him. The water was surprisingly clear, allowing him to watch their movements from below.
The goblins approached the pond's edge cautiously, their weapons ready but their attention focused on the surface. They chattered among themselves in their harsh language, clearly debating whether to wait for him to surface or to move on to easier prey.
Aeon's lungs began to burn as his oxygen ran out. He would have to surface soon, and when he did, they would be ready for him.
Unless he struck first.
The nearest goblin was crouched at the water's edge, using the tip of its spear to probe the depths. It was focused entirely on the water, not expecting an attack from below.
Aeon swam upward as quietly as possible, positioning himself directly beneath the creature. When he was close enough, he exploded from the water like a nightmare given form.
His good hand closed around the goblin's ankle and yanked downward with all his strength. The creature toppled into the pond with a splash, its weapon flying from its grasp as it struggled to keep from drowning.
Aeon didn't give it the chance.
Still underwater, he wrapped his arms around the goblin's neck and held on as it thrashed desperately. The creature clawed at his arms, opening fresh wounds, but Aeon had learned the value of not letting go. He held his grip until the goblin's struggles stopped and its body went limp.
One down.
He surfaced to find the other three goblins spreading out around the pond, their weapons trained on him. But they were hesitating, clearly unnerved by their companion's sudden death.
Use their fear. Move before they coordinate.
Aeon lunged out of the water toward the closest goblin, ignoring the pain as his broken hand struck the stone floor. The creature raised its club defensively, but he was already inside its guard.
He drove his shoulder into the goblin's midsection, sending both of them tumbling toward the edge of the chamber. Before the creature could recover, Aeon grabbed its head with both hands and slammed it against the stone wall with savage force.
The sound of its skull cracking echoed through the chamber.
Two down.
The remaining goblins had recovered from their shock and were advancing with weapons ready. Aeon was exhausted, bleeding from multiple wounds, and armed with nothing but desperate fury.
But he was also learning.
As the first goblin thrust its spear at his chest, Aeon twisted aside and grabbed the weapon's shaft. Instead of trying to wrestle it away, he used his leverage to drive the goblin backward into its companion.
Both creatures stumbled, momentarily tangled together.
Aeon wrenched the spear free and drove its point through the nearest goblin's throat before it could regain its balance. Black blood sprayed across the chamber walls as the creature collapsed, choking on its own life.
Three down.
The final goblin snarled and charged with its stone axe raised high. Aeon tried to bring the spear up to block, but his exhausted arms moved too slowly.
The axe blade caught him across the shoulder, opening a gash that sent blood streaming down his arm. The impact sent him sprawling, the spear spinning away across the chamber floor.
The goblin raised its weapon for a killing blow.
Aeon rolled aside desperately, the axe blade sparking against stone where his head had been. He kept rolling, trying to put distance between himself and his attacker, but his strength was failing.
The goblin pursued relentlessly, its axe whistling through the air in deadly arcs that missed him by inches.
On the third swing, Aeon's luck ran out.
The flat of the blade caught him in the ribs, lifting him off the ground and sending him crashing into the chamber wall. Stars exploded across his vision as his head struck stone, and for a moment, he couldn't tell which way was up.
The goblin approached for the final strike, its yellow eyes bright with bloodlust.
Move. Fight. Win. Don't be prey.
As the axe descended, Aeon lunged forward with the last of his strength. His broken hand closed around a sharp piece of stone that had broken off from the wall, and he drove it upward into the goblin's abdomen.
The creature screamed—a sound of agony and rage that filled the chamber. But it didn't fall.
Instead, it brought the axe down in a wild swing that Aeon barely managed to block with his forearm. The impact sent fresh waves of agony through his already-broken bones, but he held on to the stone shard.
They grappled desperately, the goblin trying to bring its weapon to bear while Aeon worked the stone deeper into its body. Black blood poured over his hands as he twisted the makeshift blade, searching for something vital.
The goblin's struggles grew weaker as its life ebbed away. Its grip on the axe loosened, and the weapon clattered to the floor.
Finally, mercifully, the creature collapsed.
Four down.
Aeon lay beside the goblin's corpse, his vision swimming and his body screaming in agony from a dozen new wounds. But he was alive, and his enemies were dead.
That had to count for something.
As his breathing slowly returned to normal, he began the grim task of searching the bodies for crystals. If he was going to survive this dungeon, he would need every advantage he could find.
The hunt for freedom continued, one bloody victory at a time.