The poison was gone, but the lesson remained, etched into my brain: don't get cocky. Don't get hit. My new philosophy was simple and clean. With [Minor Heal] in my back pocket, I wasn't just healed; I was upgraded. A mistake was no longer a potential mission-killer, just a temporary drain on my mana bar. The safety net was in place.
It was time to finish the job.
I walked into the main cave system like I owned the place. The narrow tunnels opened up into a series of vast, interconnected caverns, each one a natural kill-zone. The air was thick with the stench of goblin filth and woodsmoke from countless small fires. And the noise... the noise was a low, constant annoyance of guttural chatter from hundreds of throats.
I activated [Detect Presence]. My mental map, which had previously shown scattered red dots, was now littered with them. They were everywhere, clustered in groups of five, ten, even fifteen. This was the heart of the nest.
And mixed in with the standard red dots were bigger, brighter ones. I focused on the nearest one. It was patrolling a ledge with two smaller goblins. It was a full head taller than its brethren, with thick, corded muscles and a brutish, pig-like face. It carried a heavy, spiked club instead of a sharpened stick. A Hobgoblin. Level 6. A mini-boss in any other context. Here, it was just a bigger bag of XP.
My strategy shifted. This wasn't a one-by-one assassination job anymore. This was crowd control.
I cloaked myself in [Stealth] and moved. The cave was a network, and I was the ghost in the machine. I found a shadowy overhang above a chamber containing a dozen goblins and two of the big Hobgoblins. They were huddled around a fire, gnawing on unidentifiable cooked meat.
[Detect Presence] was my map. [Stealth] was my transport. [Mana Strike] and my mace were the delete key.
I started with the biggest threat. I gathered my mana, not into my fist, but into a [Mana Shot]. I poured more MP into it than ever before, the ball of blue energy growing dense and bright in the darkness. I aimed for the head of the nearest Hobgoblin. The bolt shot out, silent and fast. It hit the creature square in the temple. Its head didn't just snap back; it exploded in a shower of gore. It was dead before its body hit the ground.
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The other goblins stared in shock for a split second. That was all the time I needed. I dropped from the ledge, landing silently in their midst. I activated [Mana Strike], my fist glowing. A jab to the second Hobgoblin's chest caved its ribcage in. It went down with a wet gurgle.
The ten smaller goblins finally reacted, shrieking in a mix of fury and terror. It didn't matter. They were a disorganized mob, and I was a high-level player farming low-level trash. My mace became a blur. Crunch. Thwack. Crack. Each swing was a kill. My [Blunt Weapon Mastery] made every blow a critical hit. In less than thirty seconds, the entire chamber was silent, the bonfire casting flickering shadows on a dozen dissolving bodies.
A cascade of blue screens filled my vision. XP poured in.
[LEVEL UP! You are now Level 31!]
The pace became explosive. I moved from chamber to chamber, a one-man extermination squad. The synergy of my skills was perfect. I was a surgeon, cutting out cancerous nodes of goblins with brutal, efficient precision. The level-up notifications became a constant, rhythmic chime in the back of my head, each one a full heal and a fresh surge of power.
[LEVEL UP! You are now Level 33!]
[Your skill, Mana Strike, has reached Lv. 4!]
[LEVEL UP! You are now Level 35!]
The feeling was beyond intoxicating. Every level felt like a physical transformation. I was faster. I was stronger. My mana pool was deeper, my spells hit harder. The goblins, who had once been a credible threat, were now nothing more than walking numbers, resources to be harvested. That silver-ranked party had run from fifty of these things. I was starting to think fifty was a decent warm-up.
[LEVEL UP! You are now Level 38!]
[Your skill, Detect Presence, has reached Lv. 4!]
The final set of tunnels before the largest cavern was the most densely populated. I didn't even bother with finesse anymore. I walked down the center of the corridor, my mace in one hand, my other fist glowing with the constant light of a ready [Mana Strike]. They came at me in waves, and I cut them down in waves. It wasn't a fight; it was a harvest.
I kicked open a crude wooden door into the last chamber before what had to be the final boss room. A dozen goblins, a final guard post, turned to face me. I didn't even slow down. Ten seconds later, I was standing in a silent room, my mace dripping with phantom gore.
[LEVEL UP! You are now Level 41!]
I stood there for a moment, breathing in the foul air. Level 41. In two days. The power flowing through my veins was a palpable force, a high-voltage current that made my skin tingle.
I looked at the massive stone archway at the far end of the room. Beyond it, my mental map wasn't just dotted with red. It was a solid, angry block of it. Dozens, maybe hundreds of them. And in the very center, one red dot that burned brighter and larger than any of the others.
Looked like I found the party.