The torch's flame cast flickering shadows on the cave’s stone walls. My footsteps echoed, each step accompanied by the faint clatter of stones beneath my feet. The air was slightly humid; the sound of water droplets seeping through the cracks in the rock disrupted the cave’s silence. It was as if the cave itself was alive, ready to swallow me whole as I ventured deeper.

  Yet, this silence brought me peace.

  A few meters ahead, I noticed thin veins of metal running through the walls. I activated my [Examine] ability and carefully analyzed them. As I placed my hand on the stone surface, information flooded my mind: Iron ore. Simple, durable, and the first metal any blacksmith needs.

  “A good start,” I whispered to myself.

  I retrieved a small steel pickaxe head, shaped like a knife, from my bag and fastened it to a sturdy wooden shaft. This temporary pickaxe would suffice for now. Slowly, I began striking the iron vein. The metallic sound echoed through the cave, carrying far into the distance. After each strike, I paused to listen — I had to be cautious. Noise could attract unwanted guests.

  As I gathered the iron ore, plans formed in my mind: I could process it with coal to make steel, reinforce my dual-layered armor, or even forge simple nails to construct sturdier structures. I tucked the smaller pieces into my pockets and pressed forward to explore further.

  With each step, the cave grew colder, and the humidity in the air increased. Passing by small streams where water trickled against the rocks, I noticed patches of moss. These could be useful for potion-making in the future. Every detail was valuable; every small find could aid my survival.

  For about an hour, I delved deeper, collecting iron. In hard-to-reach spots, I used my [Shatter] ability to break apart stubborn ore deposits, making extraction easier. Each time I used the ability, my mana levels dropped, but the risk was worth it. The shattered rocks fragmented into smaller pieces, allowing for quicker gathering.

  At one point, I stumbled upon copper veins. A grin spread across my face. Copper was excellent for basic alloys — especially bronze. I hadn't yet discovered stronger metals, but this was a solid start.

  Still, I felt something was missing. Had I really come this deep only to find common metals?

  I decided to descend further. The cave’s wide corridors turned into narrow passageways. The walls became smoother; it felt less like a naturally formed cavern and more like tunnels that had been carved long ago. The thought of ancient miners crossed my mind — perhaps this was an abandoned mine. If so, maybe I could even find their tools deeper within.

  I stopped to rest in a small alcove. My torch’s flame had weakened, so I poured a small amount of oil onto it. Sitting on the stone floor, I examined my gathered resources: iron, copper, a few simple crystal fragments…

  But I craved more. G?lgesim, Kara??ra?, perhaps minerals I had never seen before... The deeper I went, the more dangerous it would become, but I had to take that risk.

  After a short rest, I stood up again. Lifting my torch, I pressed onward.

  The echoes of my footsteps grew fainter as I ventured deeper. The torch’s light cast flickering dances along the walls, and the cave’s narrow tunnels slowly expanded. A strange feeling settled in my chest — as if I wasn’t alone. Yet, there was no movement around me.

  As I advanced, the cave opened into a vast chamber. I froze for a moment, holding my breath. My eyes widened at the sight before me.

  Scattered across the stone floor were makeshift tents, their fabric tattered and moldy, draped over rotting wooden poles. Old belongings lay strewn across the ground — rusted spearheads, crude stone pickaxes, even primitive knives made from sharpened pebbles… The hands that had crafted them were long gone, yet their traces remained.

  Slowly, I stepped forward and examined my surroundings. Every step sent a faint crunch through the silence.

  I activated my [Examine] ability, focusing on the tools. Stone Pickaxe — Durability: Low, Material: Volcanic Basalt.

  Primitive, yet deliberately crafted. Created by an intelligent being.

  Dried animal hides.

  At first, I mistook them for corpses, but they were merely old, torn pelts. In the corner of one tent, I found charred bones — the remnants of a small fire, its ashes still scattered on the ground. No one had been here for a long time. But if this camp had been abandoned, why were there no signs of struggle?

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  I stood up and inspected the other tents. Rusted chain links, bone carvings, even crude drawings etched into the cave walls… The figures depicted abstract silhouettes of creatures, as if the previous inhabitants had been running from something.

  At that moment, a sound echoed from the depths.

  The sharp clang of metal striking stone.

  It rang out a few times, then fell silent.

  A chill ran down my spine. My hand instinctively reached for my poisoned dagger, but then I realized—

  The sound was coming from the tunnel I had entered through.

  Something might have been approaching from the corridors I had walked before.

  I quickly turned in the opposite direction—maybe I could move away from the opening and find another tunnel. But from deeper within, from the inner parts of the cave, a dragging sound rose.

  The sounds were coming from both directions.

  I was trapped.

  My breath grew shallow. My heart pounded against my ribcage. Desperately scanning my surroundings, I rushed toward one of the larger tents at the edge of the camp. I slipped inside, crawling under the fabric, and quickly extinguished my torch, plunging myself into complete darkness.

  My chest heaved up and down. I struggled to hold my breath. Slowly, I unsheathed my Luminous Blade, cupping my hands around it to prevent its glow from giving away my position.

  I listened to the footsteps echoing through the cave.

  Who—or what—was coming?

  I didn’t know.

  But I had no choice but to hide and wait.

  In the pitch-black tent, I held my breath. My heart pounded as if it was about to burst from my chest. Every echoing step amplified my fear. Yet, I kept my gaze fixed on the small tears in the fabric, determined to see whatever approached.

  Then, silhouettes appeared.

  Hunched bodies, shorter than a human. Pointed ears. Thin figures covered in dirt.

  At first, I couldn’t recognize what they were. But as I focused, I realized—they looked like creatures straight out of my childhood nightmares.

  Goblins.

  The name had appeared in countless books. But I had never seen one alive before. The decayed goblin bones I had found in the golem section of the 0th floor were nothing compared to these.

  They grumbled among themselves, communicating in a rough, guttural language. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, but it sounded like an argument. They carried rusty spears and broken stone axes. Some were draped in ragged animal pelts, while others were nearly naked, their skin covered in scars and wounds.

  There were six of them.

  My eyes quickly scanned the area. There were seven tents in total.

  A cold realization settled in my mind.

  Where was the seventh goblin?

  I tried to formulate a plan. Maybe I could distract them and escape. Maybe I could silently retreat and sprint back toward the tunnel I came from. But as I considered my options, a sudden warmth touched the back of my neck.

  A hot, ragged breath.

  My entire body froze.

  I wanted to reach for my blade, but my muscles refused to move. I held my breath even tighter, unable to summon the courage to turn around. The presence behind me didn’t move, but its breathing grew heavier. The stench of rotting flesh filled my nose.

  Then, a deep, guttural voice whispered right beside my ear:

  “Grrhh... Shak'ruth...”

  A chill ran down my spine.

  I realized that the thing behind me was the seventh goblin.

  But the real problem was no longer whether I could escape.

  It was already too late.

  My breath came in ragged gasps. My heart pounded like it was trying to break free from my ribcage. My hands trembled, yet I still gripped my blade tightly. In the dimness of the tent, I slowly turned around—and the sight that met my eyes sent my fear into overdrive.

  A towering goblin, at least 2.5 meters tall.

  Unlike the others, it was massive, its bulky frame nearly reaching the cave ceiling. Its skin wasn’t the usual dark green—it was coal-black. Even the patchy fur draped over its shoulders couldn’t fully conceal its muscular build. Its crimson eyes glowed even in the cave’s darkness.

  And in those eyes, I saw nothing but pure, primal ferocity.

  Before I could even think, the goblin raised its enormous fist and swung.

  BAM!

  The blow struck my chest, sending me flying out of the tent. The air in my lungs emptied in an instant. My back slammed against the cold stone floor, pain shooting through my bones.

  For a brief moment, I heard nothing.

  Only the deafening ringing inside my skull.

  I struggled to breathe as I forced my eyes open.

  The other goblins had gathered between the tents. The six smaller ones recoiled in fear the moment they saw me, squealing and scrambling backward.

  They hid behind the giant goblin.

  Gritting my teeth, I pushed myself to my feet. My chest burned. Every breath felt like a dagger stabbing my lungs. My arms trembled, my knees threatened to give out. But I couldn’t surrender.

  I locked eyes with the giant goblin.

  I had fought steel-fanged wolves before. They were faster. Deadlier. This goblin had to be slower than them. Its movements were heavy—but it had still knocked me down with a single hit.

  This would be a brutal fight.

  I drew my blade. My fingers clenched around the hilt so tightly that I felt my nails dig into my skin. Taking a deep breath, I narrowed my eyes, watching the goblin’s every move.

  But it didn’t attack.

  It just stood there.

  The smaller goblins trembled behind it, clinging to its legs. They hadn’t even raised their weapons.

  The massive goblin spread its arms slightly, as if shielding them.

  A strange emptiness settled in my chest.

  The ferocity in its eyes had shifted into something else.

  A protective instinct.

  My blade hung in my hand, frozen. My heart still raced, but my mind was no longer focused on fighting. It was thinking.

  My throat was dry, but the words escaped my lips before I could stop them:

  "Is it... protecting the others?"

  And as I spoke those words, something inside me cracked.

  Maybe the real monster... was me.