He straightened. His gaze scanned the area by the gas pocket. Chaos was spreading as the goblins' screams, and orders were getting lost in the commotion. He immediately noticed the roaring fire that had started nearby. Amidst the roar of flames, he strained to make out what the nearby goblins were saying, but it was futile. The currents of air and crackling fire pulled his attention back to the danger at hand. In his haste to dispose of the torch, he had unknowingly tossed it toward one of the wooden huts. The flames were now ravaging the lean-to, devouring the untreated tree with ease. Callum cursed under his breath; this was precisely what he had hoped to prevent.
The goblins who had remained nearby, few in number, were rushing about the nearby huts, searching for a solution to douse the flames. Those not already checking on their wounded comrade in the tunnel were scrambling to prevent further destruction.
Callum took stock of the situation and tried to identify where his plan had gone awry. It didn't take long for him to recognize his mistake.
By Grimalkin's twisted horns! I knew this plan was too risky.
His carefully crafted plan had gone awry, yet he still saw an opportunity to complete the mission and earn a handsome reward. Callum acted on impulse. Most of the goblin horde had swarmed to the darkest tunnel, leaving Callum a chance to fix the trap and turn the tables on them.
The fire's flickering light played off the greed in Callum's eyes as he snatched up the discarded torch from the burning hut's base and raced toward the tunnel. When he had almost reached the entrance to the tunnel, he could tell what had happened. The spot where he had tripped and fallen was just ahead, and he had inadvertently smeared enough of the oil trail to prevent the fire from reaching the gas pocket.
But as Callum closed in on his target, his surroundings shifted. The remaining goblins were pointing and shouting at him as the apparent cause of their homes being torched. Then he felt a searing pain on his right side, a burning sensation that brought him back to reality. As he looked down, terror struck Callum as he realized he was also on fire. The oil-sodden fabric of his robes must have caught fire when he had retrieved the torch.
Inwardly, he groaned at the realization that his plan was slowly disintegrating into too many complications for him to control.
Despite the flame's scorching heat, Callum continued to run, trusting his health pool to withstand the fire damage. He knew that if the blaze continued to spread, he could always discard his robes. Callum had committed to seeing this crazed scheme through to the end, and he was determined to do just that, even if the consequences were dire.
He slid to a stop and brought the torch onto the broken oil trail, igniting the other end. Pausing only for a brief moment to verify that the second stretch of the path was indeed lit, he launched himself forward into a full sprint, making his way toward the ramp and away from the imminent explosion. He found himself in the open, vulnerable and exposed to any danger that might come his way. The dark cave loomed behind him, and he heard the unmistakable sound of goblins calling out. But he didn't dare look back, for he knew they were aware of his presence by now.
His heartbeat thundered in his chest, drowning out the distant shouts of the goblins. His breathing became labored, matching the frantic rhythm of his heart. The goblins' shouts turned from anger to panic and then disappeared altogether. Only the sound of his own body filled his ears now. His adrenaline surged, and he felt his body shutting down nonvital functions.
At that moment, Callum couldn't help but find it strange that hearing was considered nonvital by his body. He could feel every muscle in his body straining with each step, every ounce of strength focused on reaching the ramp ahead. It was only ten meters away now, and he refused to take his eyes off it. Suddenly, the far wall of the cavern flashed before his eyes, and everything went black.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Callum felt his world tilt and spin as he tried to regain his bearings in the explosion's aftermath. The goblin cave whole only moments before was now a warzone of ringing ears and chaotic debris.
He staggered forward, or was it backward?
It was hard to tell with the ground rushing up to meet him.
When did I sit down?
The room spun around him, and he struggled to focus on any one thing. He groped for the nearest wall to steady himself but found only empty space.
He leaned back, and the wall was there behind him.
Nausea twisted in his gut as he tried to make sense of what had just happened. He had set the fire, of that much he was sure. But he had not expected the blast to be so powerful. The explosion had knocked him off his feet and sent him careening into the wall.
He squinted, trying to clear his blurry vision, but spots danced before his eyes. He blinked hard, hoping to dispel them, but they remained. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the deafening tinnitus, but it persisted. This was not how he had planned his escape.
Callum steadied his breath, fighting to calm the fear that gripped him. He could not afford to waste time. If any goblins survived the explosion, they would come for him with a vengeance.
But the haze in his mind made it difficult to think. He struggled to recall the layout of the goblin cave and determine which direction to take.
His heart hammered in his chest, the frantic beat throbbing in his temples. Though he tried to slow his pulse, the churning nausea refused to abate. He considered his physical state and a troubling realization took hold. The fire that had licked at his robes and the subsequent explosion must have ravaged his health.
The fire!
Callum looked down frantically, causing another brief bout of dizziness and nausea. The fire in his robes had been put out.
His was spinning, and his thoughts were jumbled as he tried to pull out a bandage from the pouch at his side. His fingers felt numb and uncoordinated, and it took him a few fumbling attempts before he could grab hold of the bandage.
Seated against the rough, jagged wall of the cave, Callum propped his leg up, his teeth gritted in pain as he began to wrap the bandage tightly around the wound on his thigh. The fabric tugged at the torn flesh, and he winced, the throbbing ache intensifying with each pull. But he refused to let it deter him. The wound was not his most pressing concern; he knew the First Aid skill would work its magic and heal his health bar directly, restoring him to full health and mending his other injuries in turn.
Struggling to keep his thoughts clear, he fought to stay focused on the task at hand. The memories of the explosion kept creeping in, threatening to overwhelm him, but he forced them back, his fingers clumsy as he wound the bandage around his leg, determined not to give up. His breaths came in ragged gasps as he finished binding the fabric around the wound.
Exhausted, he leaned back against the cave wall, his heart still hammering in his chest, his pulse pounding in his temples. But he knew the telltale signs of the First Aid skill activating, soothing his wounds, and reviving his battered body. His eyelids drooped, his body giving out as darkness closed in around him. Callum surrendered to the healing embrace of unconsciousness.
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"Hahahahaha!" A booming laughter echoed through the cave, rousing Callum. "Hoooooly shit, man!"
Callum squinted into the dark cave, attempting to look through the floating dust and debris. The jovial attitude of whoever spoke didn't seem to fit in Callum's mind. His vision was having trouble focusing, and he wasn't sure if it was the debris from the cave, the smoke, or an injury to his head.
He knew he was in no state to fight, so he just sat unmoving where he was—hoping desperately that whoever was approaching was not a threat. He could hear footsteps on loose stone but still was unable to see.
"You're a sneaky little bugger, huh? Must be tough as nails too." The stranger said.
Callum could feel his senses quickly returning as the bandage's healing effects took hold of him. His vision began to clear, and his headache promptly dissipated.
"Hey, you alive over there? You must have some huge balls. I can't believe you blew up the cave while you were in it!" The steps were closer now.
Callum attempted to say something but coughed and ended up gagging again. He spat a mouthful of blood as it came up from his lungs.
Internal healing is doing its work. He thought, pleased to note that he hadn't died during his unconsciousness.
Just then, a man stepped through the thick dust. He wore robes and carried a wooden staff in his hand. He'd pulled up a section of his robe to cover his nose and mouth with his other hand. He was completely bald.