First Dungeon Exploration

Arthur awoke to the scent of damp earth and the distant chirping of unseen birds. His muscles ached from the previous day's battle, but he forced himself up, stretching out the stiffness in his limbs. The morning mist clung to the forest like a thick veil, giving the world an eerie, dreamlike quality.

Lyra was already awake, sharpening her dagger against a whetstone. She glanced up as he stirred. "You slept like the dead."

Arthur ran a hand through his hair, still groggy. "Can you blame me? You nearly worked me to death yesterday."

She smirked. "That's the only way to make sure you don't die when it actually matters."

He couldn't argue with that.

After a quick meal of dried meat and whatever edible plants Lyra had managed to scavenge, the two set out deeper into the wilderness. Arthur had no idea where they were heading, but he had learned to stop questioning Lyra's sense of direction. She moved with confidence, as if the forest itself whispered its secrets to her.

"So," Arthur said as they walked, stepping over the gnarled roots of an ancient tree, "what's on today's agenda? More boar hunting? Maybe we wrestle a bear?"

Lyra gave him a sidelong glance. "Funny. But no, today we're heading toward something much worse. A dungeon."

Arthur nearly tripped over his own feet. "A what now?"

"A dungeon. You know, a place filled with monsters, traps, and treasures?" she said, her tone making it sound like this was the most normal thing in the world. "It's the perfect place to push you beyond your limits."

Arthur stared at her as if she'd lost her mind. "I barely survived a giant pig yesterday. And now you want to throw me into some death pit?"

"You don't have a choice," she said simply, picking up the pace. "Besides, you need real combat experience, and there's no better teacher than a dungeon."

Arthur sighed, rubbing his temples. "I swear, if I die, I'm haunting you."

Lyra chuckled. "You wouldn't be the first."

After an hour of trekking through increasingly dense terrain, they reached their destination. Hidden between the roots of an enormous, ancient tree, a dark entrance yawned like the maw of some slumbering beast. Cold air drifted from within, sending a shiver down Arthur's spine.

"Well," he muttered, gripping the hilt of his sword, "this definitely screams 'bad idea.'"

Lyra ignored him and stepped inside. "Stay close. And whatever you do, don't wander off."

Arthur swallowed his nerves and followed.

The darkness swallowed them almost instantly. The temperature dropped, and the air was thick with the scent of damp stone and decay. Their footsteps echoed eerily, the only sound in the suffocating silence.

Then, a low growl reverberated through the tunnel.

Arthur's heart pounded as his eyes adjusted to the gloom. Shadows shifted ahead, and then they stepped into a wider chamber where creatures lurked in the dim light. They were hunched, their bodies covered in jagged, matted fur, their red eyes glowing like embers.

"Goblin Scavengers," Lyra said, her voice calm but firm. "They hunt in packs. If you let one of them alert the others, we'll be overrun."

Arthur tightened his grip on his sword. "Great. So we're killing them quietly then?"

Lyra nodded. "Exactly."

Without warning, she lunged forward, her dagger flashing in the dim light. The nearest goblin barely had time to react before she drove the blade into its throat, silencing it instantly.

Arthur swallowed hard. This was no training exercise. He needed to act.

His target turned at the last second, eyes widening as it spotted him. Arthur didn't hesitate—he surged forward, swinging his blade in a clean arc. The steel bit into the goblin's shoulder, cutting deep. The creature shrieked, but before it could alert the others, Arthur drove his boot into its chest, sending it crashing into a pile of debris.

Another goblin snarled and rushed him. Arthur barely had time to raise his sword before it leapt, a rusted dagger clutched in its clawed hand. He twisted at the last moment, dodging the attack, then brought his weapon down in a decisive strike.

The goblin collapsed with a final, gurgled cry.

He stood there for a moment, panting, his pulse hammering in his ears. Then Lyra clapped him on the back. "Not bad, newbie."

Arthur exhaled sharply. "I can't tell if you're trying to kill me or train me."

"Both," she said with a smirk. "Now, let's keep moving."

They descended deeper into the dungeon, the air growing heavier with each step. The walls were covered in ancient carvings, depicting battles between monstrous creatures and warriors long forgotten. Arthur barely had time to marvel at them before another challenge arose.

A stone bridge stretched across a vast chasm, its surface cracked and unstable. And on the other side, something waited.

A hulking figure stood in the shadows, its yellowed eyes gleaming. It was twice the size of a normal goblin, its body wrapped in crude armor, and a jagged axe gripped in its massive hands.

"Goblin Brute," Lyra murmured. "Strong. Slow. Hits like a warhammer."

Arthur exhaled. "Fantastic."

The brute roared and charged, its footsteps shaking the stone beneath them.

Arthur barely had time to roll out of the way as the axe came crashing down, splitting the bridge where he had been standing a second before.

He sprang to his feet, mind racing. He couldn't block something like that—the force alone would shatter his guard. He needed to be faster.

The brute turned, eyes locking onto him again. It swung, but this time Arthur was ready. He sidestepped, the axe whooshing past him, and lashed out with his sword, slicing into the goblin's side.

It howled in pain but didn't slow down.

Arthur cursed under his breath. "You've got to be kidding me."

The brute swung again. Arthur dropped into a slide, skimming beneath the attack, then sprang up behind the creature. Before it could turn, he slashed at the tendons behind its knee.

The goblin staggered, its balance wavering. Arthur seized the opportunity. He leapt onto its back, driving his sword into the base of its skull.

The brute let out a strangled gasp—then collapsed forward, dead.

Arthur rolled off, panting. He lay there for a moment, staring up at the cracked ceiling, before muttering, "I hate dungeons."

Lyra stood over him, arms crossed. "You say that now. But you'll learn to love them."

Arthur groaned. "Doubtful."

She grinned. "Come on. This is just the beginning."

Arthur sighed, dragging himself to his feet.

One dungeon down.

Who knew how many more to go?