A few minutes later, Riven found himself back on the floor of his cell, sprawled out in a position that was somehow even less dignified than before. He was bruised, battered, and thoroughly humiliated. The goblins had been even less “gentle” than he’d expected when they’d realized he was up to something. Their idea of a reprimand involved a series of enthusiastic sucker punches and a few well-placed kicks.

He lay there, staring at the ceiling, his mind swirling with disbelief.

‘Gosh! What is wrong with these creatures?!’ he thought bitterly. ‘Who just rebels against their overlord? ‘

He huffed indignantly, his pride feeling more battered than his actual body. ‘I mean, I’ve done nothing but give them direction and life!’

The betrayal stung, but there was a tiny part of him—a very tiny part, mind you—that felt a reluctant flicker of pride. These lowly, incompetent dungeon dwellers were somehow managing to keep him, a demon of power and prestige, captive. It was an impressive feat… in a twisted, infuriating way.

He glanced down at his wrists, which were still bound together, but at least his captors had loosened his legs, allowing him to shuffle around the cramped cell. Hm! They must not want to permanently upset me, he thought, trying to convince himself that this was all part of a clever plan on their part, a show of careful restraint.

‘They know disaster would follow if they dared push me too far.’

He nodded to himself, his spirits lifting slightly at the thought, though it did little to actually help his situation.

Looking around, he took in the dim, damp corners of the cell, the reinforced door patched together with whatever metal scraps the goblins could scavenge. It was crude but effective, an impressive bit of craftsmanship considering the creatures who’d built it. Through the small window of bars in the door, he could see two goblins stationed just outside, standing guard with an air of grim determination.

“Hm. What am I to do now?” he muttered to himself, his mind racing.

And that’s when he noticed it—a glint of hope that made his eyes widen. He still had the Dungeon Management Menu! The tablet had remained strapped to his side through all this chaos, miraculously overlooked by his captors. His hands were still bound together, which made maneuvering a bit tricky, but if he angled the tablet just right, he could manage it.

‘Alright, let’s see if you can really stop me’, he thought with a grim smile, struggling to lift the tablet into his lap. Using his thumbs, he began tapping the screen frantically, navigating to the creature settings for the second floor.

‘Come on… come on!’ he thought, gritting his teeth as he found the goblin section.

He tapped the Remove button for the goblin creatures over and over, spamming it with all the desperation of a demon pushed to his limits.

But… nothing happened.

“Why won’t this work?!” he yelled, his frustration boiling over before he could stop himself. The sound echoed off the stone walls, louder than he’d intended.

The goblins outside the cell heard him immediately. They exchanged a suspicious look, and then, without hesitation, they marched back inside. Riven scrambled to turn off the tablet, his heart pounding. But he wasn’t quick enough—they saw him fumbling with the device, their eyes narrowing as they approached him with a menacing glint in their gaze.

“Wait—wait! This isn’t what it looks like!” he stammered, but it was no use.

One goblin reached down and delivered a swift punch to his gut, knocking the breath out of him. He doubled over, gasping, while the other goblin seized the tablet from his hands with a triumphant grunt.

Riven fell back, still clutching his stomach. “No! That’s mine!” he wheezed, reaching out feebly as they examined the strange stone tablet with looks of confusion and mild interest. He could tell they didn’t recognize its significance—their faces were blank, brows furrowing as they turned it over in their hands like it was some bizarre, useless trinket.

One goblin shrugged, clearly unimpressed, and the two of them walked out of the cell, taking the tablet with them.

…

Riven stared after them, his mind reeling with a mix of shock, fury, and disbelief. He’d actually lost the Dungeon Management Menu—the one tool he had that could possibly turn this situation around.

‘They just… took it.’

But as he sat there, stewing in his humiliation, he felt a small surge of relief.

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‘Honestly… they’re goblins. There’s no way they’ll figure out how to turn it on.’

For all the chaos they’d managed to pull off with their little rebellion, goblins were still… well, goblins. The tablet was likely far beyond their understanding.

The goblins here may be creatures of mana, but they themselves possessed no ability to wield it themselves, so he doubted they could do anything with the tablet.

Still, he was stuck. Again.

He slumped against the wall, letting his head fall back with a groan. This was getting more embarrassing by the second. Sorvax would be laughing himself sick if he could see his prized apprentice now, locked up in his own dungeon by creatures he was supposed to control. He closed his eyes, trying to block out the sheer indignity of it all.

‘Think, Riven. Think. There had to be a way out of this mess.’

The goblins were cleverer than he’d given them credit for, sure, but they were still creatures of instinct and habit. If he could find a way to exploit that, he might be able to turn the tables.

But then a troubling thought occurred to him—

'What if they take the tablet to someone who can understand it?’

A shiver ran down his spine at the possibility. If the goblins somehow found a way to activate the tablet, they’d have access to all the dungeon’s functions.

But there wasn’t much else to do but wait… and wait… and wait. The goblins standing guard outside his cell seemed to be in no particular hurry to deal with him, and the minutes stretched out painfully. Riven’s patience, already frayed, was quickly unraveling.

He sighed loudly, leaning against the cold wall of his cell.

"What do you guys even do when the day’s over? Just… stand around and wait? How boring is that?" he called out to his captors, hoping to get some sort of reaction.

The goblins didn’t respond. Not a word. They simply stood outside, their expressions blank and uninterested, as if his complaints were nothing more than distant wind.

‘Alright then’, he thought, tapping his fingers against his knee. ‘If complaining won’t get them to talk… maybe insults will.’

He grinned to himself, a devilish gleam in his eye. ‘They can’t ignore me forever.’

So, he began to berate them for a while…

“You know, I can smell you from here,” he said, wrinkling his nose dramatically, even though the smell was less pungent than he was letting on.

“You reek like… old cheese left out in a bog. Especially you, on the left!” He pointed his bound hands in that direction. “And you on the right? You smell just like the one on the left. Truly a fragrant pair, aren’t you?”

That one finally got a reaction. He could see their shoulders tense, their faces scrunching in irritation.

Riven smirked. ‘Oh, here we go.’

He kept at it, throwing insult after insult with a relentless enthusiasm, making a show of gagging and dramatically waving a hand in front of his nose. The goblins’ expressions grew darker and darker, until finally, one of them growled low in its throat and swung open the cell door, stomping inside with a glare that promised violence.

But that’s exactly what Riven had wanted. Disgruntled creatures made mistakes, after all, and he’d just baited them into making a big one.

The goblin on the left, the more agitated of the two, stormed over to him, drawing back its fist, clearly ready to give him a swift punch to the face.

Before it could strike, Riven leaned forward and spit right in the goblin’s face.

The goblin froze, eyes wide in shock, its hand still mid-swing. The spit dripped down its nose, and the sheer audacity of Riven’s action seemed to short-circuit its brain. It stood there, momentarily paralyzed, trying to process what had just happened.

Riven seized the moment. With his bound hands, he delivered a quick kick to the second goblin—the less stunned one—aiming for its knee. The goblin staggered back with a yelp, dropping the Dungeon Management Menu tablet in the process.

Riven lunged forward, snatching the tablet off the floor as fast as he could with his restrained hands. His heart hammered in his chest, adrenaline spiking as he scrambled past the goblins, out of the cell, and into the hallway beyond.

“Later, losers!” he shouted over his shoulder, sprinting as fast as his bruised legs would allow.

He tore down the hall, clutching the tablet tightly to his chest, his feet slapping against the cold stone. Every instinct told him to get as far away as possible before the goblins could collect themselves and give chase. He rounded a corner and nearly collided with a skeleton guard, who was just standing there in its usual unphased, statue-like way.

Riven skidded to a halt, panting. Behind him, he could hear the angry footsteps and outraged shrieks of the goblins as they stormed after him.

“PROTECT ME!” he shouted at the skeleton, throwing every bit of authority he could muster into his voice.

He could only hope that whatever loyalty was still programmed into his undead minions would be enough to get this one to act.

The skeleton turned its empty gaze on him, then looked back down the hallway toward the two goblins barreling toward them. It stood there, silent and still… and then, in a creaky, dutiful motion, it stepped in between Riven and the pursuing goblins, blocking their path.

The goblins skidded to a halt, their eyes narrowing as they realized they’d have to go through the skeleton to reach him. Riven could see the tension in their shoulders, their knobby fists clenching as they prepared for a fight.

The skeleton, to its credit, didn’t back down. With a rattling creak, it raised its bony arms and assumed a defensive stance. The goblins lunged at it, and the skeleton met them with a surprising amount of vigor, the clatter of bones and shrieks of goblins filling the narrow hallway as they grappled.

Riven didn’t stick around to see who would win. He took advantage of the distraction, ducking around another corner and sprinting deeper into the dungeon’s maze-like corridors. The tablet was still clutched tightly to his chest, and he didn’t dare stop, not even to catch his breath.

He knew the level two skeleton would be no match for two level 2 goblins, they may be hard to kill, but they were outmatched to the shadowy assassins…

Especially two extremely upset ones.

After winding through a few more passages, he finally dared to slow down, glancing over his shoulder to make sure he’d lost his pursuers. The sounds of the goblins and skeleton scuffling had faded into the distance, and the corridors around him were quiet.

He leaned against the wall, panting heavily, a triumphant grin spreading across his face.

‘I actually did it’, he thought, a surge of relief and pride swelling in his chest.

But he knew it wasn’t over yet.

No, this was just the beginning.