The goblins closed in, their hunched forms crawling with unnerving fluidity. Their guttural growls filled the air, reverberating off the stone walls of the dungeon. The sound was primal, chilling, and suffocating. Emma’s heart pounded, but she quickly turned to Maverick, urgency etched on her face.

"Buy me some time," she said firmly.

Maverick glanced at her, his expression a blank slate. "For what?"

"Just do it!" Emma snapped, her voice rising in a rare note of desperation. Without waiting for his response, she dropped to her knees by the wall, hurriedly gathering flat stones scattered across the uneven ground.

Maverick hesitated for the briefest moment before his vision blurred into motion. In an instant, he lunged toward the injured goblin, blade flashing as he struck. The remaining six goblins roared in fury, instinctively closing ranks to protect their wounded companion.

It was exactly what Maverick had planned.

The goblins crowded together, snarling and snapping as they encircled their injured kin. Maverick used the opportunity to reposition himself several paces away. He moved with precision, his actions seamless and deliberate.

Clap. Clap. The sound of his hands echoed sharply as he performed the sequence: a triangular gesture, two sharp knuckle strikes, and finally, his hands cupped together as he exhaled forcefully into them.

Flames erupted from his hands, a roaring torrent of fire that engulfed the goblins. Their screeches of pain cut through the air as the fire consumed them, the acrid smell of burning flesh mingling with the dungeon's already oppressive dampness.

But Maverick wasn’t finished.

Quickly, he shifted his stance, his hands forming a precise rectangular shape, reminiscent of framing a photograph. He muttered a single word under his breath, "CLOVAC."

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A brilliant beam of light shot forth, intertwining with the flames. The goblins were frozen mid-scream, their forms locked in place as if trapped within the burning inferno. The light shimmered, creating an unyielding barrier that sealed them in their fiery prison.

Maverick glanced over his shoulder at Emma, who was still crouched by the wall. "Are you done yet? We need to move before the seal breaks."

"I'm done! I'm done!" Emma shouted, springing to her feet. She rushed to his side, holding out a flat stone etched with intricate carvings. "I call it a Bomb Stone," she said, slightly breathless. "It’s the alchemy you taught me, but carved onto a surface we can carry. This way, we can set traps without needing to draw every time."

Maverick took the stone, his sharp gaze scanning the carvings. He studied her work, ensuring every line and symbol matched the sequence perfectly.

She handed him a small bundle of additional stones. "Here’s more. Let’s set them around the goblins before the seal gives way."

He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I’ll do it. You stay here."

Before Emma could protest, Maverick grabbed the remaining stones and moved swiftly toward the trapped goblins. With practiced efficiency, he placed the Bomb Stones in a calculated pattern around the area, his movements silent and precise.

The moment he stepped back, the seal began to crack. Light fractured and faded, and the flames that had imprisoned the goblins flickered out.

Freed, the goblins wasted no time. They bolted, their scorched bodies still steaming as they tried to escape the lingering heat.

Then it happened.

A deafening boom erupted, the chain of explosions triggered as the goblins stepped onto the stones. The force of the blasts tore through the air, shaking the ground beneath them. When the dust settled, the goblins were no more, their remains scattered amidst the smoldering rubble.

Maverick allowed himself the faintest of smiles, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. He turned away, his voice calm but commanding. "Let’s go."

Emma blinked, startled by his abruptness. "He didn’t even praise me for my marvelous idea," she muttered under her breath, her irritation mingling with a hint of pride. Sighing, she followed him, her steps quick to match his.

The dungeon corridor grew quieter as they moved on, the oppressive tension of the goblin ambush fading into the distance. They emerged into a wider passageway, the air slightly cooler and carrying a faint metallic tang.

Behind them, the goblin lair fell silent.

Then, from the depths of the dungeon, a sound echoed—a faint, high-pitched cry.

It started softly, like the wail of an infant, and grew louder, more insistent. The mournful sound reverberated through the stone halls, its eerie tone both haunting and otherworldly.

Something had arrived.