The damp air of the cavern clung to Mark's skin as he activated his "Mana Augmentation" skill. The rocky walls, previously shrouded in shadow, now pulsed with vibrant clarity. He traced the jagged surface with his gaze, his heart hammering in his chest.

The silence that had initially settled after his descent was deceptive. A faint cacophony of sounds, muffled by the thick rock, reached his ears. He narrowed his eyes and activated his "Hunter's Instinct," the surrounding world sharpening into focus. His senses, enhanced by his newfound abilities, picked up on the rhythmic thump of drums, guttural chants, and the distant clanging of metal.

Following the trail of sound, Mark navigated through a network of tunnels, his hand gripping his newly acquired longsword tightly. The air grew warmer, a faint, acrid smoke stinging his nostrils. He emerged into a vast cavern, sunlight filtering through a gaping hole in the ceiling, illuminating a scene that sent a jolt of adrenaline through him.

Before him, sprawled across the cavern floor, was a bustling goblin encampment. Tents of rough-hewn leather dotted the landscape, their crude construction contrasting sharply with the towering stalagmites that pierced the cavern ceiling. Smoke rose from numerous cooking fires, and a central bonfire crackled merrily in the center of the encampment.

But it wasn't the sheer number of goblins, estimated to be around ten thousand by his rough count, that caused a knot of unease to tighten in his stomach. It was their activity. Goblins, clad in crude armor, were sharpening their weapons, brandishing axes and short swords. Others were practicing rudimentary combat formations, their guttural shouts echoing through the cavern.

A chilling realization dawned on Mark. This wasn't just a random goblin settlement. They were preparing for war.

He quickly checked his status, his eyes scanning the quest timer. 12 hours remained. Was this attack related to his quest in any way? Was it also related to the safe zone?

The possibility was both frightening. Here was an opportunity – a chance to level up significantly before the timer ran out. He could use this unexpected confrontation to his advantage, turning the tables and potentially completing his quest early.

But the goblins were ten thousand strong, and he was alone. A single misstep could spell disaster.

He needed a plan. A meticulous, calculated approach that maximized his strengths while minimizing his vulnerabilities. He couldn't just charge in headfirst. He needed to exploit the chaos of their preparations, to pick them off one by one, whittling down their numbers before they even realized they were under attack.

Mark activated his "hunter’s instinct," and “Mental Perception” studying the layout of the encampment. The goblins patrolled haphazardly; their attention focused on their own preparations. He spotted a cluster of tents nestled at the base of a large stalagmite, seemingly isolated from the main activity.

This would be his starting point. He needed to be efficient, silent, and deadly. Drawing his longsword, he formulated his plan. He would use his enhanced agility and "Hunter's Instinct" to navigate the encampment undetected, targeting lone goblins and minimizing collateral damage. He would prioritize their leaders, hoping to create panic and disrupt their organization.

With a deep breath, Mark stepped out of the shadows, his heart pounding a steady rhythm. He was alone, facing an army. But he would be a predator, and the goblins were his prey.

He darted towards the isolated tents, his movements swift and silent. His first target – a lone goblin sharpening an axe near a tent flap – never saw him coming. The longsword moved in a blur, striking true. The goblin crumpled to the ground with a surprised grunt, before silence returned, broken only by the crackling fire in the distance.

Mark continued his assault, weaving through the encampment like a phantom, eliminating goblins one by one. His every move was calculated, his senses painting the world in vibrant detail, guiding him towards his targets. But as he neared the central bonfire, the heart of the goblin activity, a familiar chilling sensation crawled up his spine.

He glanced towards the source - a hulking figure standing atop a raised platform, barking orders at the goblins below. Its eyes, gleaming with malicious intelligence, locked onto Mark. A guttural growl escaped its throat, a sound that echoed through the cavern, sending shivers down Mark's spine.

The goblins, their attention drawn to their leader's gaze, turned towards him. In that moment, the silence exploded. A cacophony of war cries filled the air as the goblins charged towards him, their eyes filled with a feral bloodlust.

Mark stood his ground, a wry smile playing on his lips. This was just the beginning.

Adrenaline surging through his veins, Mark braced himself for the onslaught. He activated "Mana Augmentation," channeling his energy into his muscles, granting him an unnatural burst of speed and agility. He darted to the side, dodging the first wave of charging goblins as their crude weapons whistled through the air.

Their attack, however, lacked the cohesion Mark expected based on their earlier practice. The initial frenzy quickly devolved into chaotic scrambling, as individual goblins, fueled by rage rather than strategy, jostled for the chance to strike him down.

Mark exploited this disarray. He employed his enhanced agility and "Hunter's Instinct" to weave through the goblin horde, a whirlwind of steel. His longsword sang its deadly song, leaving a trail of fallen goblins in its wake. Each strike was precise, fueled by his training and the newfound control afforded by his "Mana Augmentation" skill.

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Yet, the sheer number of goblins proved overwhelming. As one goblin fell, two more took its place, their guttural roars echoing through the cavern. Mark felt a growing sense of fatigue, his muscles burning with exertion. The air grew thick with the stench of blood and the acrid smoke of burning tents, further fueling the chaos.

He knew he couldn't sustain this pace forever. He needed to create space, to find a vantage point from which he could regroup and formulate a new strategy. His eyes darted across the cavern, searching for an opening.

Suddenly, he spotted a solution – a crude wooden bridge spanning a chasm that cleaved through the encampment, leading towards a series of tunnels on the far side. It was a risky gamble, but it was his only chance.

Mark channeled his remaining mana into his legs, propelling himself forward with incredible speed. He sprinted across the bridge, dodging haphazardly thrown spears and arrows. Reaching the other side, he turned to face the horde surging across the bridge, their faces contorted in rage.

With a surge of mana, Mark activated his newly acquired "Mana Augmentation" skill. He focused on the bridge, searching for its weaknesses. A faint outline of the wooden beams flickered into existence, revealing structural stresses and potential points of fracture.

Focusing on one such point, Mark channeled his mana again. He extended his mana into his longsword, the longsword shone brightly and he slashed down, seeking to exploit its inherent weaknesses.

A surge of pain shot through his head, a testament to the difficulty of the feat. He gritted his teeth, pushing through the discomfort. The groans of the bridge intensified, its wooden beams warping under an unseen force.

A loud crack echoed through the cavern as the bridge fractured, giving way under the weight of the charging goblins. The first few goblins, caught off-guard, plunged into the chasm below, their screams cut short as they met their demise. Others stumbled back, thrown off balance by the sudden shift in the ground.

Mark watched the scene unfold, panting heavily. He had managed to buy himself some breathing room, but the battle was far from over. The goblins, enraged and frustrated, were gathering at the edge of the chasm, their guttural shouts echoing off the cavern walls.

He knew he couldn't repeat the feat with the bridge. His reserves of mana were dangerously low, and the strain of sending his mana into his sword had taken a toll on his mental fortitude. He needed a new strategy, a way to capitalize on the chaos he had created and turn the tide of the battle in his favor.

As he surveyed the scene, his gaze fell upon the hulking figure on the platform across the chasm. The goblin chieftain, its eyes burning with fury, was bellowing orders at its remaining forces. A plan began to form in Mark's mind, a daring gamble that could potentially swing the entire battle in his favor.

With a determined glint in his eyes, Mark tightened his grip on his longsword and started formulating his next move. He needed to attract the chieftain's attention, to lure it away from the safety of the platform. But how? He needed bait, something alluring enough to tempt the monstrous creature into a trap.

The air thrummed with the primal roar of the goblin horde, a cacophony of guttural war cries and the clang of crude weaponry. Mark, his vision momentarily obscured by the dust and smoke billowing from the burning encampment, watched with a mixture of apprehension and grim determination as the goblins milled about the severed bridge. Their initial momentum had been blunted, the chasm acting as an unexpected obstacle.

He knew this reprieve wouldn't last long. The goblins, driven by a primal bloodlust and fueled by the charismatic bellows of their chieftain, would soon find a way to breach the chasm and resume their relentless assault. He needed a plan, and fast.

His gaze darted across the battleground, desperately searching for an opportunity, a weakness he could exploit. His eyes locked onto the hulking figure of the chieftain, perched atop a makeshift platform overlooking the carnage. The creature, adorned in crude armor and wielding a massive war axe, barked out orders in a language that sounded like a guttural growl. Its eyes, gleaming with malevolent intelligence, scanned the battlefield, searching for Mark.

A sudden inspiration struck Mark. He needed to draw the chieftain's attention, to lure it away from the safety of the platform. But what could he offer that would entice such a creature? His eyes landed on the Divine Meridians Card nestled in his inventory.

A mischievous grin spread across his face. He had the perfect bait - something that, according to the system's description, held the potential to unlock immense power within him. It was a gamble, a calculated risk that could backfire spectacularly. But he was out of options.

With a deep breath, Mark channeled his remaining mana, activating his "Mana Augmentation" skill. He focused the energy on the card, willing its power to manifest in a way that would attract the chieftain's attention. As he channeled, the card began to glow with an otherworldly light, pulsating like a miniature star.

He raised the card high above his head, its luminescence cutting through the dust and smoke. The goblins closest to him, momentarily distracted by the sudden spectacle, turned their attention towards the glowing card. A low growl rippled through the crowd, a sound brimming with curiosity and primal desire.

The chieftain's gaze darted towards the card, its eyes narrowing in suspicion. For a tense moment, it seemed unmoved. Then, with a bestial roar that echoed through the cavern, it pointed its war axe towards Mark and bellowed a single word: "Mine!"

The effect was immediate. The goblins, spurred on by their leader's command, erupted into a frenzy. They surged towards the chasm, their guttural shouts growing louder, their weapons held high. Ignoring the danger of the precarious ledge, some even began scrambling down the rock face, their desperation outweighing their fear of heights.

Mark knew time was of the essence. He needed to reach the far side of the chasm before the bridge-cracking feat drained his remaining mana reserves completely. He sprinted towards the tunnel entrance, his heart pounding in his chest.

As he reached the tunnel opening, he glanced back towards the bridge. The goblins, emboldened by the chieftain's command, were swarming across the broken span, their weight straining the already compromised structure. With a final, resounding groan, the bridge buckled, sending a cascade of goblins tumbling into the chasm below.

Mark, ignoring the screams and the sight of struggling goblins clinging to the remaining beams, plunged into the darkness of the tunnel. The air within was stale and thick with the smell of damp earth, but it felt like a haven compared to the chaos he had left behind.

He navigated the winding tunnel system, relying on his enhanced "Hunter's Instinct" to guide his way. The ground beneath his feet was uneven, littered with loose rocks and debris. The tunnel walls, slick with moisture, offered little purchase for his handholds.

He pressed on, fueled by a mixture of adrenaline and desperation. Every sound, every echo within the tunnels sent shivers down his spine. He wasn't sure what lay ahead, but facing the unknown was preferable to facing the relentless horde of goblins.