Two months had passed since I last saw the troglodyte.
Two months of training. Every morning before sunrise, every evening until dark. Elias pushed me hard. I learned to ignore the aches. I learned to keep going when my arms felt like stone. My body adapted.
My energy cap increased to 450. I could form a small blade in a heartbeat, a shield on my arm, a stone in my palm from nothing. I could switch between transformations without thinking.
The training was split into two parts.
---
Month One: Poison, Control, Transforming
I already had a weak poison in my core, left over from the centipede I had absorbed in the cave. But it was too weak to stop a troglodyte. I needed something stronger.
Elias took me to a part of the forest where mushrooms grew thick. "You're going to eat them," he said.
I stared at him. "That will kill me."
"Small doses. Your body can adapt. You're not fully human. Your core can break down toxins."
I picked a red cap with white spots. The same kind that had killed a rat in Elias's trap. I bit off a tiny piece. Chewed. Swallowed.
My stomach burned. My core pulsed. The poison spread through my porcelain body, but my core absorbed it, broke it down, stored it. The burning faded.
"Again," Elias said.
I ate another piece. Then another. Over the next week, I ate more mushrooms – the brown ones from rotting logs, the pale green fungus that smelled like death. Each time, my core adapted. The poison became part of me.
I also practiced transforming. Small blade, small shield, small tool. I learned to switch between them faster. I learned to create a small rock from mana and throw it. Costly, but useful for distractions.
By the end of the first month, I could coat my blade with poison just by willing it. I could hold a shield and a blade at the same time. My core felt like a coiled spring.
---
Month Two: Fighting Methods and Magic Theory
Elias taught me to fight. Not like a soldier – I was too small, too light. But like a hunter.
"Strike fast, then move," he said. "Don't let it grab you. Don't let it bite."
We practiced with wooden dummies. I stabbed, dodged, rolled. I learned to use the cave walls for cover. I learned to listen for movement in the dark.
Then Elias tried to teach me magic.
"The core can send mana outside the body," he said. "The golem was designed for that. But you're not a golem. Your vessel is weaker."
He handed me a small crystal. "Try to push mana into it from a distance."
I focused. I tried to send a thread of mana from my core to the crystal. Nothing. The energy dissipated as soon as it left my skin.
"You can't project," Elias said. "Not yet. Maybe not ever. Your mana only works through touch. Healing, poison, transformation – all contact. That's your limit."
"So I can't throw fire. Can't blast it from afar."
"No. You have to get close."
I nodded. "Then I'll get close."
Elias also taught me about the golem. It was too weak to send mana outside its body as well. The cult had built it as a vessel, not a cannon. If I ever possessed it, I would still have to fight up close.
Two months. I was ready.
---
Now I stood at the entrance of the cave, rope over my shoulder, oil flasks tied to my belt, flint and steel in my pocket. The sun was just rising behind me.
I climbed down.
---
The tunnel was dark and cold. I used my small blade to light the way – the metal glowed faintly with mana. The walls were wet. Water dripped somewhere ahead.
I walked for an hour. The tunnel opened into the goblin lair. Empty, as before. The bones were still scattered. The shaman's staff still lay broken.
I followed the troglodyte's trail deeper. The footprints were fresh. Claw marks on the walls. The smell of rot was stronger.
I reached the cavern where the creature slept.
It lay curled on the treasure pile – gold, crystals, a metal box, a key. Its pale skin was slick with moisture. Its mouth hung open, showing rows of needle teeth. It was bigger than I remembered.
I moved slowly. Quietly. I laid the rope in a loop around the narrow tunnel entrance. I poured oil on the rope and on the ceiling above. I hid behind a stalagmite.
I created a small rock from mana and threw it across the cavern.
The rock clattered against the far wall.
The troglodyte woke.
It raised its head slowly, sniffing the air. Its blind face turned toward the sound. Then it let out a low, wet growl and charged.
The ground shook. Its claws scraped stone. It moved faster than I expected – much faster. I pressed myself against the stalagmite, holding still. The creature barreled into the narrow tunnel, right where I wanted it.
I waited. Counted two heartbeats. Then I struck the flint and steel.
The rope caught fire. Flames shot up the oil-soaked walls. The troglodyte screamed – a high, wet shriek that echoed through the cave. It thrashed, slamming its body against the stone. The ceiling cracked. Dust fell.
But it didn't die. It turned toward me.
I had hoped the fire would trap it, maybe burn it enough to weaken it. Instead, it just got angrier. Its pale skin was scorched, but its claws were still sharp. Its needle teeth still gleamed.
I coated my small blade with poison. I raised my shield arm.
The troglodyte lunged.
I dodged left. Its claws raked the stone where I had been. I stabbed at its flank. The blade cut deep, but the creature twisted and swung its head at me. I raised my shield just in time – its teeth sank into the metal.
The impact threw me against the wall. My shield arm cracked. Pain shot through my core. The troglodyte jerked its head, trying to pull my arm off. The teeth were stuck in the metal, but it was strong. Too strong.
I stabbed again. Its neck. The blade went in. The poison spread. The creature convulsed, but didn't let go. I stabbed a third time. A fourth.
Its grip loosened. Its body went limp. But it wasn't dead. Its chest still moved. Its eyes were closed. The poison was working, but slowly.
I pulled my arm free. The shield was mangled, teeth marks deep in the metal. My arm was cracked, leaking mana. My side was bleeding from a claw graze. My leg had a deep gash from when I fell.
I limped back to the entrance of the narrow tunnel. I didn't have the strength to finish it now.
I sat against the wall, watching the creature breathe. The fire had died. The cave was dark except for the faint glow of my blade.
An hour passed. Then two. The troglodyte did not move. Its breathing slowed.
I waited until I was sure. Then I crawled to it, raised my blade, and drove it into the base of its skull.
It stopped breathing.
A system window appeared.
Defeated: Troglodyte (Elite). +1200 XP.
Level up! Level 6 reached.
Energy cap increased to 1200.
New ability: Mana Efficiency. Your core can now send more mana in the same amount of time with better control. Energy consumption reduced by 15%.
Current energy: 320/1200.
I sat there for a long time. My arm was useless. My leg throbbed. I used healing mana to seal the worst wounds. The gash on my side closed. The cuts on my leg stopped bleeding. But the cracks in my arm remained. I would need Elias to help repair it.
I searched the treasure. Gold coins. Several mana crystals. A strange metal key. A small iron box, locked. And a map fragment showing a vertical shaft.
Behind the treasure pile, I found the shaft. It was wide – much larger than the golem's hole. It went up and down. Up might lead to the surface near Ironhold. Down might lead to the golem's cavern.
I heard distant noises from above. Mining. Hammers on stone. Soldiers.
I decided not to explore now. I gathered the loot – the key, the box, the crystals, some gold – and left the rest. I would come back.
---
I climbed out of the cave at dusk. My cloak was torn. My arm hung limp. I walked to the river and washed the blood off my hands.
Lora found me sitting on her rock.
"You're hurt," she said.
"It's nothing."
She sat beside me. "Did you kill it?"
"Yes."
She did not ask how. She just looked at the water.
"There's a shaft down there," I said. "Big. Goes up. I heard miners. Soldiers."
Lora was quiet for a moment. "Kaelen's men."
"Yes."
She touched my sleeve. "What will you do?"
"I need to go back. Not yet. But soon."
We sat until the stars came out.
---
That night, I lay in the barn. I held the metal key and the iron box. I did not try to open it. I stared at the stars through the crack in the roof.
Two months of training. One fight. One kill.
But the real enemy was still above ground.
I closed my eyes.
Tomorrow, I would ask Elias to help repair my arm. Then I would figure out what the key opened – maybe the iron box, maybe something else. I would go back to the cave for the rest of the gold. And maybe, when my arm was fixed and the loot was sorted, I would ask Lora to walk with me. Not to the river. Somewhere else. Just the two of us.
But first, I needed to sleep.