The morning sun filtered weakly through the stained windows of the guild hall, casting long stripes of gold across the wooden floor. Selvara had already been up for hours, her stomach satisfied only by the simple bread she had bought with her last bronze coins. Twenty had gone to rent the cheapest lodging the town offered—a creaky cot in a noisy dormitory. The remaining ten had vanished on food that hardly filled her. Now she walked with a spring in her step, even if her pockets were as empty as her scabbard.
She still clutched her makeshift weapon: the crooked tree branch she had carried since her first mission. Its bark had worn smooth from her grip, and though it lacked the weight of a true weapon, she felt oddly proud of it. The thought of saving up for a proper sword thrilled her, but until then, she would fight with what she had.
When she approached the guild counter, the receptionist looked up with that same tired kindness. "Back so soon?"
"Yes!" Selvara nodded eagerly, her platinum-blonde hair bouncing. "I'd like to take another goblin extermination quest. This time… in the caves north of the river."
The receptionist hesitated. "The cave jobs are more dangerous. Goblins gather there in larger numbers. How many do you plan to face?"
"At least ten."
The woman blinked. "Ten?"
Selvara shifted nervously, twisting the hem of her skirt with her fingers. "I… I need the experience. I want to grow stronger as quickly as possible. If I only fight three at a time, it will take me forever."
Her timid voice wavered, but her heart thudded with determination. And if I fall into westling again… maybe the gods will reward me even more. The thought made her cheeks burn, though she hid it behind a clumsy, cheerful smile.
The receptionist finally sighed. "Very well. Ten goblins. But don't overextend yourself. If you fail, you'll gain nothing but wounds—and worse, they'll spread rumors of a reckless adventurer who can't handle herself." She stamped the parchment and slid it across.
Selvara took the paper with trembling hands. "Thank you. I'll… I'll do my best!"
The path to the caves was long, lined with tall grasses and twisted trees. Her boots crunched on loose stones as she rehearsed her plan aloud. "First, lure them out one by one… no, that won't work if there are too many. Maybe I can force them into a line? Ah! Yes, that might be better. If they're waiting their turn, I can last longer…"
Her voice trailed off as she imagined it—goblins lining up in the dark, waiting to clash with her one after another, whether with crude blades or with their brutish attempts at westling. The picture made her body shiver strangely, and she pressed her knees together with a nervous giggle.
By the time she reached the cave entrance, the sun had dipped lower, leaving the mouth of stone shrouded in shadows. The smell of damp earth wafted out, mixed with the stench of unwashed bodies. She gripped her branch tighter, inhaling sharply.
Ten goblins. That's my goal today. If I can do that, I'll be closer to the next level. Closer to proving I can endure.
Her heart pounded, not only with fear but with a secret, bubbling joy. She stepped into the darkness, ready to face the waiting horde.
The cave air was cold, damp, and alive with faint echoes. Every drop of water hitting the stone seemed to echo a hundred times, and every step she took made her flinch, afraid the goblins inside would hear.
Selvara held her branch like a proper weapon, though it looked more like firewood than a blade. Her heartbeat filled her ears as she edged deeper into the shadows, eyes straining to see past the twisting stone walls. She had sworn to herself: ten goblins. She would find them, beat them, and come out stronger.
But the reality hit her almost immediately.
At the first bend, three shapes appeared in the gloom—small, hunched, their crude weapons glinting faintly. They sniffed the air, grunted to each other, and shuffled about. Her stomach turned. Three at once.
No, I can't… I can't fight three. Not with this stupid stick. If they surround me, I'll be finished.