The air that flowed from the final archway was different. It was colder, heavier, and carried a distinct, metallic smell of old blood and authority. I stepped through, and the sheer scale of the cavern made me pause. It was immense, a natural cathedral of stone, its ceiling lost in darkness far above. Hundreds of torches cast a flickering, hellish light across the scene.
And the floor was a living carpet of green skin. Hundreds of goblins, more than I had seen in the entire nest combined, filled the cavern. They weren't patrolling; they were watching, waiting. Worshipping.
At the far end of the cavern, atop a crude but massive throne built of the bones of unidentifiable creatures, sat the reason for their reverence.
It was huge. At least twice the size of a Hobgoblin, with thick, knotted muscles bulging beneath patches of crude iron plate bolted directly to its hide. Its face was a brutal mask of scars and tusks, and its eyes glowed with a malevolent intelligence. In its massive, three-fingered hands, it held a jagged axe that looked more like a slab of sharpened scrap metal than a proper weapon.
My system gave me the details. [Goblin Champion - Level 35].
I was cloaked in [Stealth], a ghost in the shadows of the entryway. I should have been invisible. But as I took my first step into the cavern, the Champion's glowing eyes swiveled and locked directly onto mine. It tilted its head, a low, rumbling growl building in its chest.
So much for a stealth opener. My skill was too low. Its perception was too high. The boss fight was starting, whether I was ready or not.
The Champion let out a deafening roar, a command. The dozen Hobgoblin guards standing at the base of its throne, its personal honor guard, turned as one. They raised their clubs and charged.
The time for subtlety was over. I couldn't let them swarm me. I planted my feet, held out my hand, and poured mana into a [Mana Shot]. But I didn't form it into a bolt. I kept it formless, a raw, expanding wave of concussive force. It was inefficient, a shotgun blast instead of a sniper rifle, but it was exactly what I needed.
The wave of blue energy erupted from my palm, slamming into the charging line of Hobgoblins. They weren't killed, but they were staggered, thrown off balance, their charge broken. That was the only opening I needed. I moved in, a blur of motion. My mace was an extension of my arm. The first Hobgoblin was still trying to find its footing when its skull imploded. I spun, bringing the mace around in a low arc that shattered the knees of two more before silencing them with quick, brutal follow-up strikes. It was a chaotic, violent dance, and I was leading. Within seconds, the honor guard was reduced to a pile of dissolving corpses and loot bags.
The rest of the goblin horde shrieked and recoiled, too cowardly to charge without a direct order. The only thing in the room that mattered now was me and the Champion.
It rose from its bone throne, its sheer size seeming to suck the air from the cavern. It took a step forward, the ground shaking with its weight. It roared again, this time a direct challenge. The jagged axe began to glow with a faint, menacing red light.
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
A notification flashed in my vision. [Goblin Champion is using the skill: Rending Cleave!]
It charged. For something so massive, it moved with terrifying speed. The axe came down not in a simple chop, but a devastating arc meant to cleave a man in two from shoulder to hip. The air whistled as the massive weapon tore through it. To any normal E-Rank adventurer, to Gideon and his cronies, this would have been an unavoidable, one-hit kill.
To me, with my Agility stat jacked up to a ridiculous level, it was a slow, telegraphed attack. I took a single, casual sidestep. The axe slammed into the stone floor where I had been standing, sending a shower of sparks and rock chips into the air.
The Champion was overextended, off-balance for a critical second. My counter was already in motion.
I didn't bother with my mace. I poured every spare ounce of mana I could command into my fist. My hand lit up with a brilliant, blinding blue light, far more intense than any [Mana Strike] I had used before. I drove it, full-force, into the center of the Champion's chest.
The sound was like a thunderclap. The crude iron breastplate didn't just dent; it shattered, spiderwebbing with cracks and glowing white-hot from the impact. The Champion was lifted off its feet, stumbling backward several steps before catching itself, a look of genuine shock on its brutish face.
The fight was already over. It just didn't know it yet.
It roared in fury and pain, swinging its axe wildly. But it was too slow. I was inside its guard, a phantom it couldn't touch. I dodged a clumsy swing and brought my mace down on its axe-hand, shattering its knuckles. It howled and dropped its weapon with a deafening clang.
I gave it no time to recover. I swung again, this time at the jagged axe itself as it lay on the floor. My mace, empowered by my stats, connected with the crude metal. The "rare" weapon snapped in two.
The Champion stared at its broken weapon, then at me. For the first time, I saw something other than rage in its eyes. I saw fear.
My final blow was simple. An overhead strike with my mace, delivered with all the force my Level 41 body could muster. It connected with the top of the Champion's skull. The sound was a dull, wet crunch that echoed through the now-silent cavern. The giant crumpled, its light fading from its eyes before it hit the floor.
The body dissolved in a shower of golden light, far more brilliant than any of the others. Then came the reward.
Ding.
[You have defeated the Level 35 Goblin Champion!]
[You have gained 50,000 Experience Points!]
[LEVEL UP! You are now Level 42!]
[LEVEL UP! You are now Level 43!]
[LEVEL UP! You are now Level 44!]
[LEVEL UP! You are now Level 45!]
[...]
[LEVEL UP! You are now Level 50!]
A torrent of power, so immense it made me stagger, flooded my body. Five... no, nine level-ups in a single instant. The feeling was indescribable. It was like having my entire being rewritten, upgraded to a new operating system.
And where the Champion had fallen, a single item remained, glowing with a faint blue aura. It was the jagged axe, now whole again, its crude nature replaced by a clean, sharp edge. I picked it up.
[Champion's Jagged Axe (Rare)]
[A cruel weapon that thirsts for battle. Increases Strength by +10.]
My first piece of magic gear. I hefted it, feeling its weight. It was a good trophy. But the real reward was the number flashing in my status window.
Level 50. The job was done.