Chapter 112: Goblin Mage Last Effort

The explosion tore through the clearing, swallowing the goblin mage in a roaring surge of crimson and black fire. The shockwave rippled outward, sending dirt and shattered stones flying.

Jax landed hard on one knee, smoke curling from his guns as he exhaled sharply. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, his hands trembling slightly from the recoil.

Across the field, Maera—locked in a fierce clash with the Circle Tribe goblin leader—saw the eruption and shouted, “Yes!”

Her red aura flared as she drove her fist into the goblin’s chest, the impact cracking bone and sending it crashing backward.

When the smoke began to clear, the battlefield fell momentarily silent.

Half of the goblin mage’s body was gone—burned, incinerated by Jax’s devastating strike. The charred remains twitched once before falling still.

Maera’s sharp voice rang out, cutting through the chaos:

“The goblin mage is dead! Kill the rest—they can’t revive now!”

The announcement hit like a surge of lightning. The students, once worn and fearful, roared with renewed determination, striking harder and faster.

Jax, still kneeling amid the debris, let out a strained laugh. He tried to stand—but his legs refused to move.

A shadow loomed from behind—a goblin charging in, spear raised to strike.

Before it could land the blow, a black spear whistled through the air, piercing straight through its skull.

Jax blinked, then turned to see Ron standing a few paces away, his weapon dissipating into glowing embers.

Ron smirked. “You did good, bro.”

Jax exhaled, smiling weakly. “Yeah… my legs are still numb from that shot.”

But then—

A sound, faint and wet, cut through the noise.

Kehhhhhhkkk…

The charred body of the goblin mage twitched. Its single remaining arm clawed weakly at the dirt, gripping the broken upper half of its staff. The green crystal embedded at the tip pulsed once—twice—before flaring with sickly light.

A thin, yellowish beam lanced outward from the crystal, shooting straight toward Jax.

“Jax!” Ron shouted.

But Jax couldn’t move—his legs still numb, his body sluggish from the mana drain.

Ron stepped forward, planting himself between Jax and the beam.

“It’s his last ditch effort,” Ron muttered, frowning. “That attack looks weak… he must be out of mana.”

The beam struck Ron’s palm with a dull spark and faded instantly.

He laughed. “See? Didn’t even need to save you from that.”

But Jax’s eyes widened. He wasn’t laughing.

“Ron—your hand!”

“What?”

Ron looked down. His palm was glowing. A faint yellow hue pulsed from his skin, seeping upward into his arm.

Then, before either could react, the glow spread—faster and faster—covering his entire body in a swirling golden aura. The ground beneath him flared, forming a magic circle .

“Wh-what is this?!” Jax shouted, stumbling back.

Ron’s face twisted with confusion. “N-no idea!”

Selene and Col rushed over, their expressions freezing when they saw the runes spiraling beneath Ron.

Selene’s voice trembled. “That’s… that’s a Dungeon Teleportation Spell!”

Ron’s eyes widened. “Isn’t that something used only in high-level dungeons?!”

From a distance, Lia—still locked in combat with the X-Tribe goblin leader—caught sight of the glow surrounding Ron.

“Ron?! What’s happening to him?!”

She broke into a sprint toward him, but the goblin leader snarled and grabbed her leg mid-run, slamming her backward.

Lia twisted midair, landing in a crouch, fury blazing in her eyes.

Her voice thundered across the battlefield:

“GET OUT OF MY WAY!!!”

Her aura erupted.

The sharp green energy around her deepened into a dusky pink glow, shimmering with hundreds of butterfly-like lights fluttering around her aura.

“Wind Butterfly: Elegant Speed!”

Her figure blurred—then vanished.

A heartbeat later, the X-Tribe goblin leader’s body was sliced into hundreds of pieces, dissolving into the wind.

Without slowing, Lia dashed toward Ron, the pink butterflies scattering in her wake.

.

.

.

.

Ron’s body shone brighter and brighter—his outline almost vanishing inside the golden light.

“Ron!” Jax shouted, stumbling forward. “What’s happening?!”

Ron looked down at his glowing hands, then chuckled softly, though his eyes carried a hint of worry.

“It’s okay,” he said. “From what Selene said, this spell will just teleport me to a random part of the dungeon. Maybe it’s just… behind you somewhere.”

Jax’s eyes widened. “This isn’t the time to joke, idiot!”

But Ron grinned, even as the light began to rise around his legs.

“It’s fine, bro. My fault anyway—I underestimated that last attack.”

He glanced around at the others, at Jax, at Selene, at the chaos around them.

“I’ll meet you soon.”

And with that—

He vanished.

The golden light folded inward, swallowing him whole before scattering into faint motes of energy that drifted away in silence.

For a heartbeat, the battlefield went still.

Then—

“RON!!!!!!”

Lia’s voice tore through the silence. She arrived moments too late, her hair whipping in the aftermath of her rush. Her eyes darted around wildly.

“Where is he?! What happened?!” she demanded, grabbing Jax by the collar.

“Why was he glowing?! Answer me!!!”

Her aura flared uncontrollably—pink energy bursting around her like a storm of butterflies, fluttering with violent intensity.

Maera appeared beside Lia, wiping blood from her gauntlets after finishing off the Circle-tribe leader. She placed a firm hand on Lia’s shoulder.

“Calm down, Lia,” she said, her dark red aura flaring slightly—still fierce, but nowhere near the intensity of Lia’s earlier outburst.

Lia took a deep breath, letting her aura settle. “Explain… where is he?”

Selene stepped forward, her staff still faintly glowing. “The old goblin mage used some sort of dungeon teleportation spell. It randomly sent him somewhere else in the dungeon.”

Lia’s lips pressed into a thin line, then slowly curved into a determined smile. “He can handle it. He’ll meet us later.”

Jax tilted his head, smirking. “You’re pretty calm for someone who was lashing out earlier…”

Selene swung her staff lightly, tapping Jax on the head. “Read the situation, idiot!” she snapped.

Lia let out a small laugh, rubbing the back of her neck. “I know he can handle this dungeon. I was just… a little afraid he’d vanish like that.”

Maera’s expression softened. “Let’s finish off the remaining goblins. Then we’ll set up camp here—eat, rest, and regroup before exploring further.”

Lia nodded. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

Maera shrugged, a faint smile on her lips. “Don’t worry about it… though your aura earlier was… impressive.” Her eyes flickered briefly with a brighter light, a rare spark of admiration.

Lia let out an awkward laugh, glancing at her hands. What is this situation…? she thought. I just hope Ron remains safe…

—

Meanwhile,

Ron opened his eyes and immediately spotted a dull sword swinging toward him. He sidestepped just in time, and five goblins came into view. He let out a resigned sigh.

Here we go again…

Gripping his black spear, now wreathed in a fiery orange aura, he thrust forward with precision. The first goblin’s head pierced, its scream cut short. The remaining goblins hesitated, momentarily unnerved.

Without pause, Ron swung the spear horizontally, using the dead goblin’s body as a makeshift battering ram. The impact sent the other goblins stumbling off balance. With swift, practiced strikes, he pierced the heads of the remaining four goblins.

“Hmph… finished,” he muttered, wiping his spear clean of blood.

Ron’s gaze swept the surroundings. Damp, dark-grey stone walls stretched in every direction, streaked with moss. Faint blue crystals embedded in the ceiling cast a cold, eerie light over the chamber.

He clenched his jaw. “I can’t just stay here. Let’s move…”

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.

.

Ron was moving silently across the damp stone floor. Up ahead, he spotted a wild boar rooting through the sparse moss patches. He froze for a moment, observing.

Hm… wild boar. Goblins hunt these… he thought, narrowing his eyes. There’s no grass here, so it must feed on moss or whatever grows in the open chamber. Maybe… it could lead me to the open chamber.

He shifted slightly, keeping to the shadows, letting the boar move ahead while he followed cautiously. Every step was measured; every sound of stone or moss beneath his boots was minimized. The faint blue glow from the ceiling crystals barely illuminated the boar’s path, but it was enough for him to track its movement.

If this works, I might be able to find the others… or at least get closer to open chamber, he thought, gripping his spear tighter, flames flickering along its black shaft.

The boar snuffled, unaware of the hunter silently trailing behind it, its hooves scraping lightly against the stone as it moved deeper into the dungeon.

Ron followed the boar for a while, keeping a steady distance until the tunnel widened slightly. The creature finally came to a stop in front of a massive wooden door—aged, dark, and reinforced with dull iron bands. Moss clung to its edges, and faint carvings ran along the frame, half-eroded with time.

Ron tilted his head. “A door? Here?” he muttered, stepping closer, spear still ready.

Ron slowed his pace, watching carefully.

The boar didn’t run away this time. It just stood there—snorting softly, eyes fixed on the door, as if waiting for something.

Ron frowned. “You’re… not leaving?” he murmured under his breath.

He stared at the door, thinking aloud, “Is this the boss room…?”

He paused. “…Nah, it can’t be. Other monsters don’t come near boss rooms.”

He crouched slightly, running his hand along the carvings. They were faint, but he could tell they weren’t goblin-made. “A special room, then… maybe a hidden chamber.”

A small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. “And hidden rooms mean treasures.”

Ron sighed looking at boar . “Fine. You stay here. I can track you later if I need to.”

Without hesitation, he gripped the handle. The old metal creaked as he pulled. Dust fell in thin lines from the frame, and the faint sound of ancient mechanisms echoed through the silence.

“Let’s see what you’ve got for me,” he said, stepping inside with a spark of excitement.

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