A shiver ran down my spine, cold as ice water.

  “When the goblins dragged that deer into the darkness… it looked right at us, didn't it?”

  I swallowed hard, looking back over my shoulder at Corbin. His brow was furrowed in thought, his gaze fixed on the yawning black mouth of the mine.

  After a long moment, he looked at me and sighed.

  “Your call, kid. If you want to go in, we go in. But I’ll tell you this: I’ll save your ass if I have to, because that’s my job. But I expect you to be careful. If it gets too close, if I have to step in to keep you from dying, we’re done for the day. We retreat. Got it?”

  I looked at him, surprised. That was generous of him. But the underlying warning was clear: Don't make me do my job.

  But how should we proceed?

  I rubbed my fingers together nervously. We definitely needed light in there. The sun was hidden behind thick clouds, and inside that tunnel, it would be pitch black. We didn't have torches or lanterns on us. We could go back to the farm to get some, but that would waste valuable time.

  “Say, you don’t happen to have an artifact or something that provides light, do you?” I asked, giving Corbin a crooked grin.

  He just sighed, looking at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

  “Use your head. You’re a smart lad.”

  Hm. Was I supposed to light a stick with my magic? Or just conjure fire in my hand? But holding a ball of fire would make fighting difficult. I’d have one hand occupied constantly.

  I rubbed my temples, trying to think outside the box like he told me.

  I heard Corbin sigh again. “Watch.”

  He opened his palm. Instantly, a small flame flickered into life. It grew rapidly until it was a roaring ball of fire, bright enough to cast long shadows even in the daylight. He turned and thrust his arm outward. Suddenly, small fireballs shot out from the main flame, streak-ing away and fizzling out a few meters away.

  And then it clicked.

  “Ahh! You use the flame simultaneously as a light source and ammunition for attacks.”

  Corbin dismissed the flame in his hand and nodded, yawning as he stretched his arms.

  Curious, I raised my hand and summoned a flame. It was about the size of Corbin’s, though it flickered more erratically and didn't look nearly as stable. It would suffice.

  But Corbin’s irritated look distracted me.

  “What are you doing…?” he asked, confused. He shook his head. “No, no, no. Don't imitate me. That won't help you. Besides, I’m not spending hours in this freezing cold watching you learn a new spell from scratch. You need a method that fits you and your fighting style.”

  A flush of embarrassment heated my cheeks. He wasn't wrong. But what fit my style? Up until now, I had either poured all my mana into a single spell or…

  My gaze fell on my hands. specifically, on the Iron-Knuckle Gloves.

  Hand-to-hand combat.

  My body and the things I wore weren't damaged by my own magic. Could I simply…?

  I stood up from my crouch and extended my arms. Corbin watched me with renewed interest, taking a small step back.

  I took a deep breath. Instead of guiding the mana out of my palm to form a ball, I guided it into the gloves themselves. I saturated the leather and the steel plates with mana, holding it there, building pressure.

  Then, I willed fire magic into the construct.

  Slowly, tongues of flame began to lick up from my hands. They didn't shoot out; they clung to the gloves, wrapping my fists in a wreath of fire. I poured more mana in, intensifying the heat, until my hands were encased in a dense, roaring network of flames.

  I moved my fingers, watching the fire dance with every twitch. It flared up when I clenched my fist, but it stayed anchored to me. It was like wearing gauntlets made of the sun.

  I let the flames die down and repeated the process. Again. And again. Faster each time, until I could ignite my fists with a mere thought.

  Finally, I stood there, both hands bathed in fire, casting a warm, orange glow on the snow.

  I looked at Corbin with a satisfied smile and nodded.

  He looked at me thoughtfully, rubbing his chin, a hint of genuine impressiveness in his eyes. Then he jerked his head towards the mine entrance.

  “Well then. Let’s not waste time.”

  Pip’s POV

  A steady, gentle stream of mana flowed from my paws into the earth.

  After spending a long time following the river of mana that flowed in and out of my body, I finally had a good feel for its path. With a bit of concentration, I had managed a new trick: as I used the mana from my body to heal the ground beneath me, I simultaneously pulled mana from the air into my body.

  It created an endless cycle. In. Out. Heal.

  However, it was terribly exhausting. I had to pause often to catch my breath. The concentration required was immense, like trying to catch two mice at once. But I noticed that with every attempt, the effort became a little less.

  The grass beneath my paws tickled me as it grew, vibrant and green. The dead soil bloomed with life. Satisfied, I yawned, my jaw stretching wide, and flopped onto my side.

  I closed my eyes, stretching my limbs, enjoying the soft grass beneath me. A warm, gentle wind ruffled my fur, and then I felt something glide over my back.

  I looked up. My companion, the glowing faceless one, was sitting in the grass before me, stroking me gently.

  A soft purr rumbled in my throat. I felt so comfortable here, so safe. And that made me infinitely sad. It felt like a betrayal. How can I be happy here when my child is alone?

  The purring stopped. I let my head fall back onto the grass, watching the flowers sway in the wind. I couldn't stop thinking about him. The string tugging at my heart felt tight.

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  I forced myself up. Stretching out before me was the black, sheer endless wasteland I observed.

  I have work to do.

  Approaching the border of the desolate land, I drew in mana. More. More. until I felt like I was bursting with it.

  Then I released it.

  A rushing green wave surged from me, pushing back the black corruption. Grass, flowers, and small saplings sprang into life.

  It was still a long way until this place was fully healed. But we were getting closer to the goal.

  Grim’s POV

  Our steps crunched in the snow as we approached the goblin hideout. An unnatural wind drafted out of the mine, carrying a stench of rot that made a shiver race down my spine.

  “Ready?” Corbin asked, looking half-bored as he summoned a lazy flame that hovered above his palm.

  I swallowed hard, cloaked my hands in fire magic, and nodded nervously. The flames on my fists roared to life, casting dancing shadows on the snow.

  I took my first step into the total darkness of the mine.

  Step. Step. Step.

  The sound echoed through the darkness. Even though I knew Corbin was right behind me—and hoped he wouldn't let me die—I was incredibly tense. Who knew what was waiting for us in here?

  Our fire bathed the wet, stone walls in a warm, flickering light. Every odd meter, massive wooden beams reinforced with rusted iron bands supported the ceiling. Water dripped from the stalactites, the plip-plop echoing deep into the mine. Somewhere far off, metal chains rattled.

  But what worried me most was that I couldn't see or hear a single goblin.

  Nervously, I walked deeper, Corbin trailing behind, until we reached a junction. I held my flaming fist high, trying to pierce the gloom of the branching tunnels. But it was useless; the light simply died in the oppressive darkness.

  Uncertain, I looked over my shoulder at Corbin. He was just staring into the dark, looking like he was waiting for a bus.

  ROAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!

  The scream tore through the silence—a horrific, gurgling bellow of pain and terror. It sounded like the deer.

  My heart nearly leaped out of my chest. I spun around, fists raised, legs shaking. Something was coming. I waited for a monster to burst from the shadows.

  But the only thing that happened was a snicker behind me.

  I turned around, annoyed, to see Corbin holding a hand over his mouth, trying to suppress a laugh. His shoulders were shaking. Finally, he took a deep breath and waved a dismissive hand.

  “Man, don't be so tense. We’re just talking about goblins. Unless they come at you a hundred at a time, you should be able to handle this easily with your arsenal—if you don't act stupid. So don't shit yourself.”

  I snorted, turning back around. “Asshole…” I hissed.

  Corbin snorted again, struggling to contain his amusement.

  Now I stood before the dilemma of which path to take. But before I wasted any more time, I just chose the center path. Straight ahead. My fists remained raised.

  We followed the dark tunnel until, between the echoes of my footsteps, I heard something in the distance. I stopped, listening intently.

  It sounded like… crunching? Chewing?

  Uncertain, I followed the sound, Corbin shadowing me, until we reached the next junction. Here, the path split only left and right. Again, I couldn't see anything… but I could hear.

  From the right tunnel, the crunching sound echoed louder.

  I steeled myself for whatever lay ahead and turned right.

  The noises grew louder with every step. The crunching was joined by a wet snapping sound—like breaking bones. And the closer I got, the more I imagined I could see a faint light at the end of the tunnel.

  After about another twenty meters, my suspicion was confirmed. The tunnel opened up into a larger chamber.

  I took a deep breath, glanced over my shoulder at Corbin, and nodded. To my surprise, his bored expression was gone. He looked serious, focused. His eyes were like steel as he nodded back.

  We moved forward. The tunnel widened into a rectangular chamber, measuring roughly ten by ten meters.

  Cautiously, I peeked inside. A low growl emanated from a dark corner. My heart raced, but I forced my feet to move. I fought myself for every step as I pushed the darkness back with my fire.

  And suddenly, I saw glowing eyes in the dark.

  First one pair. Then two, three, four… five pairs of yellow, slit-pupiled eyes stared at me.

  Everything in me screamed to run, fear threatening to consume me. But I pushed through the panic and stood my ground. I fed mana and air magic into my burning hands. The flames roared up, doubling in size. The intense light banished the shadows and revealed the scene.

  In front of a shaft that led deep into the earth lay the dead deer. And five goblins.

  They were licking their blood-smeared maws and hands. Beside them lay crude tools—maces, knives, axes—all coated in gore. Madness was written on their twisted faces.

  The sight was horrific, but now that I knew what I was fighting, the paralyzing fear receded, replaced by a cold focus.

  Cautiously, I stepped towards the goblins. They bared their teeth, snarling and snapping in my direction, but they made no move to attack.

  Until I got too close.

  Suddenly, the goblins turned as one and shoved the deer carcass into the deep shaft behind them. They spun back around, grabbing their weapons. They growled, watching me warily, but didn't strike.

  Thud.

  With a loud, resonant thud, the deer struck the base of the shaft.

  The goblins’ growls turned into a pathetic, yet piercing war cry.

  With a crude axe, the first goblin rushed me, its comrades remaining at a distance and bellowing odd, throaty shouts.

  I let the mana rush through my body, reinforcing my muscles with Augmentation Magic. I dropped into a defensive stance, mimicking the boxers I had seen in my old life.

  The goblin was three meters away, screaming. Two meters. He raised the axe over his head. One meter.

  I pivoted, swinging my leg in a brutal arc. My reinforced boot connected with the goblin’s chest. He went flying through the air, sailing over the heads of his confused pack, and plummeted into the dark shaft behind them.

  His scream faded into the abyss, followed by a distant thud.

  The remaining goblins roared in fury and charged as a group.

  I spun around, shouting to Corbin, “Watch out!”

  But to my shock, the miserable bastard was leaning against the far wall, arms crossed. Around him, a wall of roaring flame danced, separating him from the fight. He was safe.

  And I was alone.

  FUCK.

  Panic flared as I turned back. Three goblins—armed with a knife, an axe, and a mace—were rushing me.

  Shit, shit, shit… what do I do?

  The image of the jumping Giant Rats in the Ainsworth cellar flashed in my mind.

  I channeled a massive torrent of mana into my hands, weaving air magic into the flames. “ROARING FL—”

  No! Too much!

  I shook my head, frantically reducing the output before releasing the spell.

  Two blazing jets of fire shot from my fists. They slammed into the goblins. The creatures shrieked in agony as the flames engulfed them. They stumbled back, blindly flailing. One tripped over his own feet and tumbled backward into the open shaft, his screams cutting off abruptly.

  I released the air magic and focused on the next goblin. He had dropped his weapons and was clawing at his burned face.

  I wound up my right arm, boosting it further with Augmentation.

  Smash.

  My flaming fist connected with the goblin’s skull. The bone gave way with a sickening crunch. He dropped dead instantly.

  I raised my hands in a defensive guard, searching for the last goblin—the one that had fled my initial blast.

  Oh, how quickly the tables turn.

  It didn't take long. I heard pathetic whimpering from a dark corner.

  The goblin stood there, his face singed, his eyes milky from the heat. He looked around in panic, gripping his knife with white-knuckled desperation. But I could see it in his posture—he knew it was over.

  Slowly, I walked towards him. I stopped two meters away.

  He heard me. He slashed wildly at the air, snapping his teeth in my direction. A last, bitter act of defiance.

  I raised my right hand, extinguishing the fire. I aimed my palm at him.

  Just like in the fight against Tristan, I summoned a single drop of water. I made it rotate. I applied Duality, pushing and pulling the water simultaneously until it hummed with tension.

  I exhaled sharply and released the spell.

  Zip.

  The droplet flew like a bullet. It struck the goblin right between the eyes.

  He collapsed forward onto the cold stone, lifeless. A thin trickle of blood ran from his forehead. It was an execution, yes. But it was also an act of mercy. Better this than burning to death or starving in the dark.

  The fight had been easier than I thought. But my hands were still shaking.

  Shaking my head, I stepped over the dead goblin and walked towards Corbin. His wall of fire flickered and died as I approached.

  He raised his hand. For a second, I thought he was going for a high-five.

  But then, a sphere of white-hot light gathered in his palm.

  Boom.

  Something flew past my ear with insane speed.

  Startled, I stumbled backward, landing hard on my ass.

  Next to me, frozen mid-leap, was a goblin. Or rather, a statue of ice in the shape of a goblin.

  I stared at it, then up at Corbin.

  He looked at me… disappointed. Angry.

  Shaking his head, he walked over to the ice block and kicked it. The frozen goblin shattered into a thousand pieces, tinkling across the stone floor like broken glass.

  Before I could react, Corbin grabbed me by the front of my gambeson and hauled me into the air with one hand. My feet dangled uselessly.

  His face was inches from mine, his eyes burning.

  “Grim, get your head out of your ass,” he snarled. “You cannot get sloppy just because I’m here. If you miss an enemy like that when you’re alone… you’re dead.”