The wind howled outside the Dwargo mountain ridge, but the cold didn't reach deep within the cave's entrance where Adiw, Gigih, and Yetsan stood shoulder to shoulder. The stone path under their boots sloped downward into darkness, carved by time and pickaxe alike. Jagged stalactites hung above them like nature's teeth. The air was dry, laced with the scent of mineral dust.
"Looks like this is the place Durfvn talked about," Adiw said, glancing down the tunnel. "Not spooky at all."
Gigih walked carefully, his hands free but his eyes wary. His spellbook was tucked safely inside his magic bag. "I'd rather face a lava slime than an unlit tunnel. And that's saying something."
Yetsan, adjusting his helmet for the fifth time, muttered, "Focus. No monsters, just rocks. And hopefully, iron."
As they advanced into the main mine, they were greeted by faint glows from wall-mounted mana lanterns and the steady clang of pickaxes. Several dwarves moved with practiced rhythm, sweat glistening on their brows. One glanced at the trio of elf children with mild surprise but quickly returned to work.
Adiw approached a dwarf manning the entry checkpoint. "We've got a permit," he said, showing the engraved slate. The dwarf squinted, grunted in approval, and pointed to a side tunnel. "Darnul's down there."
They followed the sound of tapping until they found Darnul. The dwarf was compact, muscled, and had a wild, frizzed beard the color of rust. He was muttering to himself, chiseling at a glowing mana vein.
Gigih stepped forward. "Uh, Darnul? Durfvn sent us. Said something about stopping the flux powder."
Darnul snorted without looking up. "If that old fossil's still whining, tell him the boom was only medium-sized." He looked over his shoulder, grinning. "You the kids lookin' for iron ore?"
Adiw nodded. "We're building something. This cave's mostly mana ore, right?"
"Correct. If you want iron, try the abandoned shaft north of here. No permit needed, no miners to bother you either."
Yetsan raised a brow. "Why was it abandoned?"
"Dunno. Just got weird after a while. Stuff went missing. Sounds. But you're armed, yeah? Good luck."
after says farewell, they going northern shaft.
---
The northern shaft was darker and mustier. A damp, earthy smell clung to the air like an old blanket. Cobwebs hung between the cracked wooden beams, some swaying as if something had just passed through. Echoes of their footsteps bounced off the jagged stone walls, which were etched with long-abandoned pickaxe marks. Old rail tracks for minecarts peeked out from loose gravel. Crates lay broken in corners, long forgotten, their contents rotted or pillaged. The walls were cracked, veins of iron peeking like hidden treasure, glinting faintly in the dim mana torchlight.
"I like this," Adiw grinned, slapping a wall. "Iron, and no sweaty dwarves yelling at us."
"It's too quiet," said Gigih. "Like we stepped into a forgotten basement."
Yetsan ran his fingers along the stone. "These lines... yep, high iron density here. Let's mine."
They each retrieved pickaxes from their magic bags. Yetsan took a stance as if the wall was an enemy to defeat. Adiw swung in wide arcs, grinning. Gigih watched their progress and prepared fire magic to smelt what they found.
The sound of striking metal echoed. Occasionally, sparks flew as pick met rock. After a while, sweat formed on their brows. Gigih melted the ore into ingots carefully, muttering under his breath to keep his mana flow steady.
"Only two ingots?" Adiw huffed.
"Better than zero," Yetsan replied. "We can dig more after a break."
They sat on nearby stones, taking a well-earned break as the echoes of pickaxes faded into the background. Adiw guzzled water while Yetsan silently chewed on preserved bread, scanning the cavern walls with a miner's instinct. Gigih, wiping a bit of soot from his sleeve, reached into his magic bag with casual familiarity, expecting to pull out his trusty spellbook for the next smelting session. His hand brushed against the bottom, empty. He paused, patted the bag again, deeper this time. His brows furrowed, and a flicker of panic surfaced in his eyes. The spellbook was gone.
"Wait, wait wait WAIT! Where's my bag?!"
They turned sharply at the sound of shuffling gravel behind them. Standing several feet away, partially silhouetted by the dim glow of the mana lanterns, was a large, clay-colored mole creature. Its body was bulky and uneven, with patches of stone-like hide blending into the cavern floor as if it had been sculpted from the earth itself. Its massive claws gleamed with a gritty sheen, chipped and worn from countless digs. Twin eyes shimmered like polished gems, full of mischief and silent triumph. Clamped tightly in its jagged teeth was Gigih's magic bag, the leather strap swinging slightly as if to taunt him.
"Hey! That's mine!"
The mole blinked, then bolted into the darkness.
Adiw shot up. "That mole's got guts."
Yetsan snarled. "He took your bag. That's practically a war crime."
The ground beneath their feet began to tremble, subtly at first, then with growing intensity. Dust drifted from the cracked ceiling beams, and loose pebbles danced in place. A deep rumble echoed through the cavern walls, followed by the unsettling sound of stone grinding against stone. Then, with sudden eruptions of dirt and gravel, multiple claymole creatures burst forth from holes scattered across the chamber floor. They emerged in erratic patterns, some leaping out with surprising speed, others clawing their way up like subterranean beasts roused from slumber. Ten in total now surrounded the trio, forming a loose, shifting circle. Each one was roughly the size of a sheep, their thick, earthen hides mottled with mineral deposits. Their claws, long and curved like jagged scythes, gleamed menacingly in the low light, ready to carve through stone, or intruders.
"Guess we've got to fight our way through," Adiw said, swinging his pickaxe aside and summoning his greatsword.
"Ten of them," Yetsan counted, unholstering his lance. "I call the left five."
Gigih ducked behind a rock, eyes wide. "I can't cast without my book. Just, don't die, okay?"
Adiw roared forward like a charging beast, his greatsword bursting into flame with a sudden surge of mana. The fire danced wildly along the blade, casting flickering shadows across the cavern. With a fierce, arcing swing, he brought the sword down on the nearest mole, cleaving through its thick, stone-crusted hide. The impact sent a shockwave of sparks and molten fragments flying, and the creature howled as its flesh steamed and sizzled under the searing heat. Before the body hit the ground, another mole lunged at him from the right with its claws raised. Adiw twisted on his heel, shifting his weight smoothly, and brought his sword around in a wide, horizontal sweep. The flaming blade connected with a thundering smack, launching the mole into the far wall where it crumpled with a dull thud, twitching slightly.
Yetsan, meanwhile, moved with focused precision. His grip on the lance was tight, his stance low and balanced. As a mole charged him head-on, he sidestepped, allowing its momentum to carry it past. He jabbed once into its side, turned with fluid grace, and struck again across its back. Another mole came from behind, slashing down at his helmet with a vicious swipe. Yetsan dropped to a crouch, pivoted on his back foot, and launched into Lance Punisher I, a dazzling barrage of rapid thrusts that pounded the mole's defenses and drove it backward. The creature screeched, retreating into a nearby hole with another mole limping after it.
Suddenly, from the rear flank, a mole hurled a jagged chunk of stone with surprising speed. The improvised projectile slammed into Yetsan's left shoulder with a metallic clang. He staggered, teeth gritted, as the force sent him back a half-step. His armor absorbed most of the blow, but a noticeable dent now marred the shoulder plate, sparks still flickering where the rock had struck.
One mole flung a rock. It slammed into Yetsan's shoulder. His armor dented slightly.
"Unforgivable," Yetsan growled, thrusting with Lance Throw II. It pinned the mole to the far wall.
Adiw laughed. "We should do this more often."
"Fighting moles?" Yetsan ducked a swipe. "Not my dream job."
A mole crept toward Gigih. The mage backed up frantically.
"I-I can't do anything without my spellbook!" he shouted.
Adiw leaped between them, cutting the mole down with a blaze. "Next time, guard your bag better!"
Yetsan rolled under a claw and stabbed upward, knocking the wind out of another creature.
"Six down!" Adiw yelled.
"Four left!"
The remaining moles hissed and growled in their low, gravelly tones, retreating momentarily to the edges of the cavern. They circled warily, their glowing eyes flashing with eerie coordination, like they were calculating their next move. For a brief moment, everything went still, the kind of tense stillness before a storm breaks. Then, all at once, they lunged. Claws scraped against stone as they charged in a chaotic yet oddly synchronized assault.
Adiw braced himself, stepping forward to intercept. Two moles leapt at him simultaneously from opposite angles. He met them midair with a wide cross-slash, the impact sparking violently as flames flared along his blade. One mole crashed to the ground, twitching, while the other was flung backward with a singed screech.
At the same time, Yetsan moved with flawless agility, his body pivoting smoothly in time with the incoming strikes. One mole lunged low; Yetsan hopped to the side, using its momentum against it. With a clean, sweeping arc of his lance, he bisected the creature with precision, the blade whistling through the air. His feet glided effortlessly across the uneven ground, each step planted with intent as he twisted to deflect another claw, then countered with a swift upward stab that dropped the attacker instantly.
The moles began to falter, their numbers thinning rapidly under the relentless counteroffensive. Adiw pressed forward with heavy, flaming strikes, his momentum building like a blazing storm. Yetsan followed up with controlled sweeps, always one step ahead, always striking just where it hurt.
Within moments, it was over. All but one of the mole creatures lay defeated, some twitching, others slumped motionless. The cavern filled with the scent of scorched earth and dust.
But the last mole, the one with Gigih's magic bag, was nowhere to be seen. It had slipped away in the chaos, vanished into the network of dark tunnels like a phantom.er, all but one lay defeated. The last mole, the thief, was nowhere in sight.
"Gone," Adiw spat. "Coward took off."
Gigih sighed. "That bag had everything."
"We'll get it back," Yetsan assured. He dusted off his chest plate. "Eventually."
They looked around the damaged cavern. The fight had cracked some of the walls, revealing richer ore veins beneath.
"Well," Adiw said, sheathing his blade. "At least we cleared out the squatters."
Gigih wiped sweat from his forehead. "Yeah, but I'm not sleeping in here."
The trio took only a brief moment to catch their breath, bruised but not broken. Without exchanging many words, they exchanged determined glances and turned their attention to the trail of claw marks, scattered stones, and faint indentations left behind by the mole thief. The tracks led deeper into the shadows, where the cavern narrowed and twisted downward.
Whatever lay ahead, they were ready to follow, their mission no longer just about mining iron, but about reclaiming what was stolen and uncovering the secrets hidden further within this forsaken cave.
---