The deeper cave loomed like a throat swallowing light. As Adiw, Yetsan, and Gigih pushed forward, the rough tunnel floor gave way to slick, moss-patched stone. Every footstep echoed louder than the last, as if the cave itself was aware of their presence. The air thickened with a strange, metallic mist, glowing faintly under the flickering light from Adiw's sword.
"This place needs better ventilation," Yetsan muttered, waving away the haze.
Gigih trailed behind them, glancing nervously at every shifting shadow.
"Are you sure we should be going deeper?" he whispered. "My bag's still missing, and I feel like something's watching us."
"Relax," Adiw said, the glow from his flaming sword lighting the narrow path. "You're with us. Worst case, I barbecue something."
"Easy for you to say," Gigih muttered. "You've got a flaming sword. I've got... anxiety."
Yetsan looked over his shoulder. "And no spellbook. Don't forget that part."
"Thanks. That really helps," Gigih replied dryly.
After a few more steps, Gigih hesitated, then raised his hand. "Wait. I'm going to try something."
Adiw and Yetsan paused, watching as Gigih took a deep breath. He focused, channeling mana carefully with both hands. A soft pulse of light flickered at his fingertips.
"Lumina," he whispered.
A glowing orb of light sprang to life and hovered above them, casting a steady, gentle illumination through the passage. No sparks, no explosions, just clean, warm light.
Gigih blinked. "Huh... I did it. First try. No combustion. That's new."
"Nice!" Adiw grinned. "Look at you, casting responsibly."
Yetsan nodded. "Let's hope that luck holds. We'll need it."
---
The tunnel opened into a massive subterranean chamber, easily the size of a small arena. The ceiling disappeared into shadow, and faint stalactite drips echoed like clock ticks. The floor was lined with nine wide holes arranged in a square grid. It looked artificial.
"This doesn't feel like part of the mine," Adiw said.
"It feels like a game board," Yetsan replied, pointing at the regularity of the holes. "Or a trap."
Before Gigih could respond, a familiar, clay-colored mole popped up from one of the holes. It blinked twice, let out a cheeky squeal, and dove back in.
"That's the one with my bag!" Gigih shouted.
Without warning, another mole burst from a different hole a few paces away, soil spraying into the air as its bulky form emerged in a sudden leap. Its claws scraped the rim as it pulled itself up with surprising speed, eyes glinting with the same cunning glow as before. It paused at the edge for a split second, its snout twitching and head swiveling to scan the trio, then, just as quickly, it dove back into the earth, vanishing like a ghost into the tunnel below.
"And we're playing whack-a-mole, underground edition," Adiw grinned, already tightening his grip on his sword.
The game began. The claymole popped up in one hole, vanished, and reappeared somewhere else. Then another mole popped up. Soon, they were appearing in rapid, chaotic succession. Adiw chased them with heavy swings, his sword trailing embers with each arc. Yetsan focused on timed thrusts, his lance a blur.
"This is ridiculous!" Yetsan yelled. "I'm stabbing ghosts!"
"Fifty swings, one tail hit," Adiw groaned.
Gigih stayed out of the fray, biting his lip. Without his spellbook, he was useless. Every instinct told him to run, but his legs wouldn't listen. He was frozen with frustration, fear, and helplessness.
Then something miraculous happened, something none of them could have predicted.
Just as the tension in the room reached its peak and Gigih clenched his fists in frustrated helplessness, a faint sound cut through the chaos. It wasn't a growl or a claw swipe, it was a subtle, rhythmic rattling, like fabric rustling against stone.
One of the nine holes at the center of the chamber began to tremble. Loose pebbles danced around its edge. The soil at its rim shifted and bulged outward, as if something deep within was trying to force its way up. The air pulsed with a strange energy, almost like static before a lightning strike. All three of them froze, their eyes locked on the hole as the rattling grew louder.
Then, with a sudden burst of light and dust, a shape shot out from the hole like a cannonball.
And with a thwomp, Gigih's magic bag flew out of the hole like a launched firework. It landed right at his feet, rolling once before coming to a stop.
"It jumped?!" Gigih stared. "Magic bags don't do that."
The bag wriggled. It flopped over, opened its mouth-like zipper, and spat out the spellbook with a puff of sparkles.
Adiw glanced mid-swing. "Did it just give birth?!"
Gigih didn't question it. He snatched the book and opened it with a trembling hand. The pages pulsed with mana.
"Time to even the odds. Fire II!"
A faint glow enveloped the spellbook in Gigih's hands, its pages fluttering as if caught in an unseen wind. Runes shimmered along the edges in gold and crimson, reacting to the sudden surge of mana. Above him, a massive magic circle burst into existence in mid-air, its intricate lines swirling and rotating like celestial gears. The air grew hot, dense with pressure, and from the center of the circle, a twisting column of flame emerged, coiling and stretching with serpentine grace.
The fire took shape, elongating into a majestic, serpentine Chinese dragon formed entirely of roaring flame. Its fiery mane crackled, and its eyes blazed like molten jewels. With a mighty, otherworldly roar, the dragon spiraled downward, aiming directly at one of the mole holes.
A fireball roared to life from its maw, trailing smoke and embers as it spun toward a hole just as a mole dared to peek out. The impact was instant and violent, an eruption of heat and force that lifted the mole clean off the ground and hurled it into the cavern ceiling with a sickening thud. Chunks of stone rained down as the explosion rocked the chamber, echoing like thunder. The walls trembled under the sheer magical pressure, and even the stalactites above groaned from the shock.
The flame dragon coiled once around the chamber before dissipating into sparks, leaving a scorched crater where the mole once stood.
"Careful! Don't bring the roof down!" Yetsan shouted, backing away from falling dust.
Gigih grinned. "That was a warning shot."
He flipped pages. "Thunder I!"
This time, as Gigih flipped to a new page in his spellbook, the temperature in the room shifted. The warmth of fire faded, replaced by an electric tension that tingled across their skin. A yellowish glow lit the chamber as another massive magic circle flared to life in mid-air, hovering above the center of the mole grid. Its runes pulsed with golden arcs, and the lines within rotated with an almost mechanical precision, building pressure in the atmosphere with every turn.
In the middle of the circle, tendrils of lightning began to converge, snapping and crackling with wild energy. The mana condensed into a brilliant white core, then shaped itself into a fierce, four-legged form. A majestic white tiger emerged, composed entirely of blinding electricity. Its fur crackled with arcs of plasma, and its glowing blue eyes scanned the field like a predator sizing up prey.
With a growl that sounded more like thunder than breath, the tiger soared forward, leaping from the circle with explosive force. As it dashed across the chamber, every bound sent shockwaves through the air, scattering bolts of lightning in all directions. Thunder claps boomed as arcs struck the ground, splitting stone and lashing into the mole holes below.
Two of the holes lit up in tandem as blue-white bolts slammed into them with pinpoint precision. Twin explosions of light followed, sending dirt, sparks, and stunned moles flying backward with shocked screeches.
Adiw whooped, raising his sword. "Now that's more like it! Best light show underground ever!" cleaving through a stunned mole.
Gigih turned another page, his fingers steady with rising confidence. The temperature dropped instantly as a pale white light filled the chamber. A third magic circle appeared mid-air, this one icy blue and sharp-edged, like frost etched on glass. Mist curled from its edges as runes shimmered with a cold, steady glow.
From the center of the circle, particles of ice and snow gathered, twisting into the form of a sleek, agile creature. An ice wolf emerged, its body translucent and laced with frozen spikes, its breath releasing plumes of fog. It growled low, its paws landing silently as it leapt from the circle to the cavern floor.
The wolf dashed across the chamber in wide arcs, leaving a freezing trail behind it. Wherever it passed, the ground frosted over. It pounced on a mole hole just as another creature emerged, encasing the edge in solid ice. The mole shrieked and fell back, its escape route sealed in a frozen prison. The wolf circled again, launching shards of ice from its tail that pierced the ground like frozen spears.
The tide turned. Gigih launched spells with glee, alternating between fire, thunder, and ice. The floor steamed, sizzled, and hissed.
Adiw and Yetsan moved between spells, capitalizing on openings. Yetsan pinned a mole mid-air with a precise upward stab. Adiw bisected one with a fire-charged arc.
Soon, the last mole squealed and tried to retreat into a hole.
"Oh no you don't," Gigih said. "Wind I!"
A mini tornado burst, lifting the mole out mid-dive. It spun in the air like a ragdoll before crashing into the chamber wall and slumping over. The chamber fell still. Their heavy breathing echoed. Smoke wafted through the room, dissipating into the high dark above.
Then Yetsan's armor gave a faint chime.
He looked down. "My Metal Detector skill is pinging."
He knelt beside the hole the mole last used. A soft red glow came from within. Yetsan reached down with his gauntlet and pulled out a perfectly refined iron ingot. He blinked. Then reached in again. Another ingot. Then another.
He looked up slowly. "Guys... there's a stash down here. Dozens of high-quality iron ingots. Maybe hundreds."
Adiw's eyes widened. "That mole was guarding a treasure chest."
Gigih walked over, his face still bright from the spell rush. "This explains why the cave was abandoned. Not because it was empty, because someone else claimed it."
They stood together at the edge of the hole, looking down at the shining prize.
Adiw broke the silence. "So... who wants to go first into the mole hole jackpot?"
Gigih raised a hand. "Not it."
Yetsan sighed. "I'll go. But if I get stuck, someone bring pudding."
The tension finally broke, not with laughter, but with a heavy sigh as Gigih's legs gave out beneath him. He dropped to his knees, then collapsed backward onto the stone floor, his spellbook falling beside him with a soft thud. His breathing was ragged, face pale and slick with sweat. The rapid casting had drained nearly all his mana.
"Whoa, you okay?" Adiw asked, already sheathing his sword and sliding it into his magic bag.
"I... I'm fine," Gigih mumbled, eyes half-closed. "Just... out of juice."
Without a word, Adiw stepped over, crouched, and hoisted Gigih onto his back in one smooth motion. The mage groaned but didn't protest.
Yetsan secured the last of the iron ingots into his own bag, nodding toward the tunnel. "Let's head out. Jackpot secured, and our mage's about to pass out harder than Orchid after tasting her own stew."
With Gigih slumped against Adiw's back, the trio made their way toward the exit, leaving the scorched battlefield and frozen craters behind, victorious, battered, and carrying far more than they had come for.
---