As the last remnants of goblins turned to ash, the cave was left with nothing but the echoes of battle.
The heavy stench of blood and death lingered in the air, refusing to dissipate.
Mountains of severed limbs and broken weapons scattered across the stone floors, serving as grim reminders of the slaughter.
No adventurer spoke.
Each survivor stood among the chaos, as if unable to believe that it was finally over.
"Check every hole. Leave no one behind."
Lenor's voice was firm, devoid of emotion, but it carried a weight that gnawed at his soul. He could've been a part of this, could've minimized the losses. Who knew it would get this far?
The adventurers moved silently, each with sword or axe in hand, heading off to finish the task.
In the narrow tunnels, muted cries could be heard—goblins' young, too small to be considered a threat.
The green-skinned monsters cried out, trying to hide beneath the stones.
But no mercy was offered.
Kano did not look into their eyes. He simply did his work. His hands moved the sword automatically. His mind shut off any feelings.
If he thought, if he allowed doubt, the weight of it would break him.
And here, doubt was unacceptable.
Naira slowly dragged her axe across the stone floor.
Whenever she found a hole, she obliterated everything inside with a single swing.
The goblins screamed, squealed, tried to flee.
But her face remained empty.
This was not a battle. This was the cleansing of remnants.
Deep inside her… something new stirred.
Not the joy of victory.
Not satisfaction.
Just emptiness.
Lurk moved like a shadow, methodically sweeping the side tunnels.
His claws tore through every enemy he encountered.
But at some point, he stopped.
His wolf-like eyes looked into the reflection in the blood-stained puddle. He didn't look like a hero. He didn't look like a victor. He looked… like a hunter who had wiped out his prey.
Lurk clenched his fists.
Have we become them?
When the last goblin pup died, the cave fell silent.
Only the echoes of heavy steps of warriors emerging from the darkness remained.
Deeper in the cave, where even the scent of blood seemed cleaner than what had settled here, the adventurers found the cells.
Stone walls scratched by the victims' nails.
Iron chains covered in black corrosion—marks of tears, pain, and curses.
And silence.
They didn't scream. They didn't beg for help. They didn't lift their eyes.
Kano froze at the threshold of the first cell. The women were of different races—humans, elves, half-breeds, dwarves. They sat in the dark, heads lowered, as if even the torchlight scorched their skin.
They didn't react.
They simply… sat.
Like dried-up souls, stripped of everything.
Naira's fingers tightened around the axe's handle.
Her teeth clenched so hard it hurt. She had expected fear, joy at their salvation. She had expected them to rush toward them, begging to be taken home, to be freed from the nightmare. But they didn't even look up, only empty stares at the ground.
The goblins had done something worse than murder.
They had stolen the will to live.
Her anger was so intense she wanted to destroy this world, along with the goblins.
But now… who should that fury be directed at?
It wouldn't change anything anymore.
An elf from another group stepped forward.
He knelt before one of the women. A young elf, pale, her cracked lips, her eyes… empty. He reached out, touching her shoulder. She didn't even flinch.
He leaned forward slightly, trying to meet her gaze. She didn't see him. She didn't feel him; she simply breathed.
"These are not the ones we can save."
His voice was harsh.
"The women we were looking for—they're already dead."
Kano lowered his head.
He couldn't bring himself to disagree.
Lurk stopped near the far wall.
There, several women lay, their bellies swollen. Some pressed their hands against them, as if trying to hold something inside. Some simply lay still, fully resigned to their fate.
Naira tried to speak.
"We'll get you out of here."
No one answered.
One woman—human, young—finally lifted her eyes.
Her voice was dry, like cracked earth.
"Why?"
One of the mages who had participated in the battle pulled out a small bag and began mixing herbs and powders. His hands trembled, but he kept going, his eyes red from exhaustion, yet he didn't stop. This was not just a potion—it was an act of desperation, a desire to offer some help to the forsaken.
The second mage brought the vials to the women's lips.
"Drink this."
The women looked at the concoction. Some closed their eyes, as though awaiting death. Some took it into trembling hands. Others simply turned away, unwilling to fight anymore.
But none refused.
When the women took their first sip, their bodies shuddered.
Some held their breath, enduring the pain.
Some clenched their fists, biting their lips to keep from screaming.
But none shed a tear.
The silence was as heavy as their hearts.
Naira closed her eyes and lowered her head.
"If only we had come sooner…"
Kano felt something tighten in his chest.
But he didn't say a word.
The first group of adventurers silently gathered by the cave's exit.
The captives walked behind them slowly, their heads still lowered, like ghosts who had somehow found themselves among the living.
No words.
No farewells.
Those who left didn't want to stay any longer.
But some remained.
Kano, Lurk, and a dozen adventurers who couldn't just walk away.
Kano stood amidst the wreckage of weapons, corpses, and magical crystals.
He watched as the precious stones flickered, casting light over the bodies of the fallen—goblins, comrades, those who would never return home.
But no one bent to pick one up.
Not this time.
This battle wasn't a game.
This battle didn't have rewards.
The warriors carried all the bodies to a deep pit at the heart of the lair.
Here lay those who had fought alongside them.
Here lay those they had hated, but whose bodies couldn't remain on the surface.
Naira stood at the edge of the abyss, her fists clenched.
Kano gritted his teeth, not allowing himself to make a sound.
The dwarf returned to help with the burial, kneeling, bowing his head, murmuring something in an old tongue. They didn't cry. They didn't give long speeches. They simply stood silently, bowing their heads in reverence to the fallen.
Farewell.
The dwarf raised his head, pulled a small crystal from his belt, its magic flickering within. His fingers tightened around it with certainty, and he slowly tossed it into the pit. The fall lasted only a few seconds. And then—a flash.
A sudden roar filled the cave, causing the very rocks to tremble.
The shockwave tore through everything inside. The walls shook. Every corridor in the underground labyrinth collapsed. The deep caverns were wiped off the face of the earth.
When the dust settled, all that remained was a vast plain of stone—a massive mass grave.
The warriors stood before the collapsed cave for a while longer.
Kano looked at the place where the slaughter had recently taken place.
Naira took a deep breath and exhaled.
Lurk didn't turn back.
The dwarf silently turned and began heading towards the city.
One by one, they all turned and followed him. No triumphant cheers. No joy for what had been done. Just the heavy steps of people who knew that the war was far from over.
As they left the forest, the towering walls of the city loomed before them.
In the square, they were waiting.
Ragnar Claymore stood in the center, his lion-like eyes scanning each person who returned.
Next to him, with arms crossed, stood Lenor Vilerian, who had returned from the battlefield earlier. He silently assessed the survivors. Unfortunately, he had his own mission—he had personally hunted down every retreating goblin, for they could have caused immense chaos on the neutral continent. By the time he arrived at the combat groups, the main battle had already ended.
Everyone who had stayed in the city watched the warriors' return.
But no one applauded.
In the center of the square stood wooden chests.
They were open, and inside, gold gleamed.
One hundred gold coins were split evenly among those who had returned.
A reward that, as planned by Ragnar, was supposed to symbolize gratitude and victory.
But no one rushed to claim their share.
The adventurers stood in silence, staring at the coins as if they were not gold, but a curse.
The first to take the money were those who wanted to forget everything. They silently took their share and headed to the nearest taverns. Wine and strong ale flowed like a river. Tankards disappeared one by one, drowning the pain of loss.
But the drunken laughter was hollow.
No one spoke of the battle.
No one mentioned the friends they had left beneath the rubble of the cave.
They simply drank.
To hear nothing.
To forget.
Some took the money, but not for themselves.
They went from house to house, knocking on the doors of those whose sons, brothers, or friends hadn't returned. The wrinkled hands of the old accepted the coins without a word. Younger brothers and sisters of the dead simply stared at the adventurers, unsure of what to say. Some refused the money, pushing the coins back.
"You could have brought them back alive. Why didn't you?"
The adventurers remained silent, not knowing what to answer.
Naira, Kano, Lurk, and the dwarf stood apart.
Before them lay their share—the gold coins that had yet to gain any weight. Naira clenched her fists, her fingers tracing the axe's handle. Lurk bared his teeth slightly, his tail twitching nervously. The dwarf simply looked down, rolling one coin between his fingers.
And Kano just stared at the gold, as if it were something meaningless.
Naira took a deep breath and muttered:
"How many lives are they worth?"
Lurk didn't answer.
The dwarf whispered just loud enough to be heard:
"None."
And once again, they fell into silence.
Lenor Vilerian stood at the center of the guild hall, leaning on a carved oak table.
Before him were the guild's most powerful mages and demon-alchemists.
He studied each one of them intently, his green eyes flashing with tension.
"We need the truth."
His voice was firm, without a trace of doubt.
"You will look into their memories! You will find out who is to blame!! You will find out how this happened!!!"
He swept his gaze over the room.
"And only then will you erase it from their minds."
The mages approached the women sitting on the guild benches, their eyes empty, their bodies unresponsive to touch. They were here—but at the same time, they weren't.
The first mage placed his hand on one woman's head.
Images exploded in his mind.
…Twilight, a village on the outskirts…
…The woman returning from the market, carrying a basket…
…A shadow appears behind her…
…A rough sack is thrown over her head…
…Through the fabric, she hears voices— Hurry! Drag her into the cart.
…They bind her, throw her into the cargo cart where others already lie…
…The women are crying, screaming, begging…
…They're driven along the road in the middle of the night…
…Final stop—a dark hole, a den where foul sounds echo from the opening…
…Men in headscarves throw them to the ground…
…One of them spits—Take your prize, beasts.
…Darkness…
The mage screamed and recoiled from the woman as if burned.
He barely managed to stumble out of the guild, falling to his knees and vomiting onto the cobblestones.
The other mages exchanged glances but continued their work.
Each one who looked into the women's memories saw the same.
The abductions.
The nighttime transport.
Left bound near the goblins' hole, as if sacrificed.
The demon-alchemist wiped the sweat from his brow.
"Mercenaries…"
Lenor slowly raised his head, his voice turning even colder.
"Now we know what happened."
The alchemists took out vials of transparent liquid. The mages created seals to enhance the potion's effects. Each woman drank without question. No one resisted.
When the last drop vanished from their lips, their faces changed. Their eyes cleared of the shadow of terror. Their facial muscles, once frozen in fear, relaxed. Some blinked in confusion, unsure of what they were doing here.
One of the women asked hesitantly,
"Do we... do we work here?"
Lenor nodded.
"Yes. Now you do."
Those who had the strength found work. Some went to the taverns, some to the guild, others to the temple.
But not everyone found a place.
Ragnar Claymore observed everything from a distance, his lion's mane swaying in the wind.
When the last woman had been settled, he stepped forward.
"These women need a home."
His voice wasn't commanding—it was tired.
Lenor looked at him but did not object.
Ragnar continued,
"I'll shelter those who have no work."
"But that's not enough."
He turned to one of the city architects standing nearby.
"We'll build a huge shelter."
The architect raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"For whom?"
Ragnar sighed and spoke,
"For everyone who has nowhere else to go."
His golden eyes burned with determination.
"These women will live there and take care of those children who have lost their fathers."
"Now, they are not just saved—they are the ones who will give others a chance."
Drachenfest had not yet woken.
The streets were quiet, and only the soft wind stirred the shadows of buildings.
Naira, Kano, Lurk, and the dwarf walked in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
They weren't carrying heavy bags of gold.
Just a few coins in their hands.
It seemed as though they burned in their fingers, a constant reminder of the price they had paid.
The architect waited for them by the designated area where the house was to be built. The trees were yet to be felled. The stones were still unlaid. It was an empty plot of land.
Naira stepped forward first.
She opened her fingers, and several gold coins fell onto the stone table before the architect.
Following her, Kano, Lurk, and the dwarf did the same.
No one spoke a word.
The architect glanced at the gleaming coins and then at their faces. They weren't expecting thanks. They weren't waiting for explanations. They had simply done what they believed was right.
Naira raised her gaze and softly spoke,
"Let it be as large and as strong as possible, so that everyone who needs shelter may find it."
The architect stood in contemplation for a few seconds.
Then, slowly, he nodded. He knew that these coins weren't enough to build the entire house. But he also knew that they hadn't just given money. They had given a part of themselves.
Kano, Lurk, and the dwarf turned their backs on him and walked away.
Naira stood for a moment, gazing at the spot where the house would one day stand.
Then, she too turned and walked off.
No one said another word.
And when the sun finally rose over the city, they were already lost among its streets.