The stale air hung heavy, carrying the faint metallic tang of blood and the sharp stench of decay. The dimly glowing walls of the dungeon pulsed faintly, casting eerie yellow light on the five hunters as they moved in a tight formation. Their shadows stretched long, flickering with each cautious step.

“This is it,” the leader murmured, his voice low but firm. He carried a longsword that gleamed faintly, enchanted with minor runes to repel poison. “Eyes sharp, everyone. No mistakes.”

The dagger-wielder at his side smirked, her twin blades glinting wickedly. “You worry too much. It’s just goblins.”

Behind them, the mage scoffed, his staff tapping softly on the ground. “Goblins with acid spit and traps. Keep your arrogance to yourself unless you plan to dodge alone.”

“Enough.” The leader’s tone brooked no argument. “Formation. Now.”

The group shifted into position, their movements fluid despite the oppressive atmosphere. The dagger-wielder took point, her slight frame blending into the shadows with practiced ease. To her left, the poison master carried vials of venom carefully strapped across his chest, his gloved hands gripping a blowgun. Behind them, the mage trailed, his staff faintly glowing with defensive runes, while the archer brought up the rear, her bow strung tight and her quiver full.

The dagger-wielder froze, her hand snapping up to halt the group. “Movement,” she hissed, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the tunnel ahead.

A faint skittering sound echoed, followed by a low, guttural growl. Yellow eyes glinted in the shadows, dozens of them, reflecting the faint light of the dungeon.

“Here they come,” the archer murmured, notching an arrow.

The goblins attacked all at once, pouring from hidden crevices in the walls and ceiling. Their screeches filled the air as they lunged with jagged daggers and sharpened claws.

“Hold the line!” the leader shouted, his sword flashing as he deflected a goblin’s strike.

The dagger-wielder darted forward with Flash Step, her movements a blur as she weaved between goblins, slashing with precision. Green ichor splattered the ground as her blades found their marks.

“Left flank, two incoming!” the poison master called, tossing a vial into the fray. The glass shattered on impact, releasing a cloud of noxious gas that sent the goblins into a fit of coughing and thrashing.

The mage raised his staff, chanting under his breath. A barrier of shimmering light sprang up around the group, blocking a spray of acid from a particularly large goblin. “They’re stronger than the last batch. Stay focused!”

The archer lost a volley of arrows, each one finding its mark with deadly accuracy. “Heads up! More coming from the rear!”

The battle raged, the group fighting in perfect synchronization. But the goblins kept coming, their numbers seemingly endless. The dagger-wielder, panting, glanced over her shoulder. “How many of these things are there?”

“Doesn’t matter,” the leader growled, cutting down another goblin. “We finish this or we don’t leave at all.”

A particularly large goblin—nearly twice the size of the others—emerged from the shadows, its body adorned with crude bone armor. It roared, its acidic saliva sizzling as it dripped onto the ground.

“That’s new,” the archer muttered, pulling a special arrow from her quiver.

“Focus fire on it!” the leader ordered.

The archer lost her shot, the enchanted arrow embedding itself in the goblin’s chest and detonating in a burst of light. The creature staggered but didn’t fall, its roar shaking the walls.

“Poison master, now!”

The poison master tossed another vial, this one filled with a corrosive substance that hissed as it splattered onto the goblin’s armor. The bone plates melted away, exposing its mottled skin.

The leader stepped forward, his sword glowing as he activated its enchantment. With a powerful swing, he cleaved through the creature’s neck, its head rolling to the ground with a wet thud.

The remaining goblins screeched in panic, retreating into the darkness. The hunters stood amidst the carnage, breathing heavily.

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“Everyone alright?” the leader asked, wiping green ichor from his blade.

“Still in one piece,” the mage replied, though his hands trembled slightly as the glow of his staff dimmed.

The dagger-wielder leaned against the wall, catching her breath. “I’m fine. Just… exhausted.”

As they regrouped, the poison master frowned, his eyes scanning the shadows. “Did anyone else feel… watched?”

The others stilled, their eyes darting toward the darkened tunnels.

“I thought it was just me,” the archer admitted, her grip tightening on her bow.

The leader’s jaw clenched, his gaze sweeping the room. “Stay sharp. We’re not alone.”

Unseen by the hunters, a pair of glowing yellow eyes watched from the shadows. Unlike the goblins, these eyes were intelligent, calculating. A low, guttural chuckle echoed faintly, too quiet for the hunters to hear.

The figure melted back into the darkness, leaving only silence in its wake.

——————————————————

The air in the final chamber was thick with tension, the dim yellow light reflecting off the gleaming treasure chest that sat in the center of the room. The hunters, battered but triumphant, stood in a loose circle around it.

The leader knelt, his sword still in hand, and examined the chest for traps. He ran his fingers along its edges, searching for any signs of hidden mechanisms.

“It’s clean,” he said finally, glancing over his shoulder at the dagger-wielder. “Go ahead.”

The dagger-wielder grinned, stepping forward with an eager gleam in her eyes. She flipped open the lid, revealing a small assortment of gleaming jewels, gold coins, and a single glowing artifact resting on a velvet cushion.

“Jackpot,” she muttered, her voice tinged with satisfaction.

The mage leaned closer, his brow furrowing as he examined the artifact. It was a crystalline orb, pulsating faintly with an otherworldly light. “That’s a mana core,” he said, his tone laced with awe. “It’s rare—could power an entire town’s defenses for decades.”

The poison master chuckled, crossing his arms. “Looks like today’s haul was worth the trouble.”

The leader stood, sheathing his sword. “Take what you can carry. We need to leave before anything else decides to crawl out of these walls.”

The group moved swiftly, pocketing coins and securing the mana core in a padded satchel. The dagger-wielder tied a small pouch of jewels to her belt, while the archer slipped a few coins into her quiver for safe keeping.

Their return through the winding corridors of the dungeon was quieter, the tension still palpable but muted now that their goal was achieved. The air felt lighter as they ascended, leaving behind the oppressive glow of the dungeon’s yellow walls.

The dagger-wielder’s voice broke the silence. “That big goblin back there… Think it was the boss?”

The leader glanced at her. “Most likely. Let’s hope there isn’t another one waiting outside.”

The poison master let out a low chuckle. “If there is, let’s hope it’s dumber than the last one.”

As they reached the entrance, the cool evening air rushed to greet them, a stark contrast to the dungeon’s stale confines. The forest surrounding the dungeon was quiet, the faint chirping of crickets and rustling leaves a welcome reminder that they were back in the open.

The archer stretched her arms over her head, her bow slung over her shoulder. “I never thought I’d be so happy to see trees again.”

The mage adjusted the strap of his staff across his back. “Let’s not get too comfortable. We’re still a ways from the village.”

The leader nodded, scanning the treeline. “Stay in formation. The dungeon might be behind us, but we’re not safe yet.”

The trek back to the village was uneventful, though the hunters remained alert, their eyes scanning the darkening forest for any signs of danger. Shadows lengthened as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple.

The dagger-wielder sighed, her pace slowing slightly. “Do you think anyone will believe us when we tell them about that mana core? Feels like something out of a storybook.”

The mage smirked. “They’ll believe it when we sell it to the highest bidder.”

The poison master glanced over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. “Let’s just hope we’re not bringing back more than we bargained for. Something about that place felt… off.”

The leader didn’t respond, his focus fixed on the path ahead.

By the time the hunters reached the outskirts of the village, night had fully fallen. Warm lights spilled from the windows of small wooden houses, and the faint hum of evening activity drifted through the air.

“Finally,” the archer muttered, her steps quickening.

As they approached the village gate, the guard on duty raised a hand in greeting. “Back already? Didn’t think you’d make it out before nightfall.”

The leader inclined his head. “The dungeon was active, but manageable. We’ll give a full report to the guild in the morning.”

The guard nodded, his eyes flicking to the satchel slung over the mage’s shoulder. “Looks like you came back with more than you left with. Treasure?”

The dagger-wielder grinned, patting the pouch at her belt. “You could say that.”

The guard chuckled, stepping aside to let them through. “Well, welcome back. Try not to spend it all in one place.”

The hunters made their way to the village’s small adventurer’s guild, a sturdy stone building with a warm glow emanating from its windows. Inside, the familiar hum of chatter greeted them as other hunters exchanged stories and drinks.

The leader approached the guild master, a burly man with a thick beard and a piercing gaze. He placed the satchel containing the mana core on the desk.

“Mission complete,” the leader said simply.

The guild master’s eyes widened as he opened the satchel, his expression shifting from surprise to admiration. “A mana core? Well, I’ll be damned. You really outdid yourselves this time.”

The dagger-wielder leaned against the desk, her grin widening. “We aim to please.”

The guild master chuckled, closing the satchel. “You’ll get your full payment tomorrow after the assessment. For now, go get some rest. You’ve earned it.”

The group nodded, their exhaustion finally catching up with them. As they dispersed, the leader lingered for a moment, his gaze drifting toward the darkened forest beyond the guild’s windows.

Something about the dungeon still gnawed at him—the faint sense of being watched, the unsettling intelligence in the goblins’ movements. He shook his head, brushing the thought aside.

For now, they were safe.