Chapter 1.4 - Den Raid: Gnolls Rolls, Goblin Rollin

The cave’s mouth gaped like the jaws of a beast, vines dangling like crooked teeth. The soldiers who had escorted the prodigy party stopped at the threshold, as protocol demanded. From this point on, it was the guide’s responsibility.

Lyle raised his hand. A pale orb flared into life above his palm, drifting forward until it hovered at the center of the cavern. The light washed over the group, chasing shadows from the slick walls.

“This will be our sun in here,” Lyle said. His voice was steady, calm, the kind of tone that carried weight without needing to be loud. “Standard issue for guides and porters. Get used to it. The deeper you go, the darker it gets.”

The prodigies shifted, adjusting packs and weapons. Edmund scoffed, his gauntlet blades glinting faintly in the glow. Beatrice clasped her hands as if in silent prayer.

“First lesson,” Lyle continued, pulling a small bundle from his cart. “Inventory. Too many rookies die because they trip over their own gear. Save space, don’t hoard, and keep weight light. For this outing, I’ll provide what you need.”

He handed each of them three bottles two red potions, one blue mana tonic. “Don’t stuff them in your bags or subspace,” he instructed. “Potions don’t save lives if they’re buried. Belt, pouch, somewhere you can grab them in a heartbeat. This is practice. Treat them like the last lifeline between you and the grave.”

Beatrice nodded solemnly. The twins clipped theirs neatly onto their belts. Edmund twirled one between his fingers like a toy until Lyle’s frown made him sigh and holster it. Naomiel tucked his away silently, eyes sharp and thoughtful.

“Second lesson environment.” Lyle swept the orb’s glow over the walls, revealing jagged arrowheads half-buried in stone and vines curling with hidden thorns. “There are no crafted traps in this dungeon, but the surroundings can be just as deadly. Don’t lean on the walls. Don’t touch what you don’t need to. You’d be surprised how many rescues I’ve done just because someone wanted to poke at moss.”

A nervous laugh ran through the group. Even Beatrice cracked a small smile.

“Third lesson roles.” Lyle crossed his arms. “Tell me what you specialize in.”

“I wield holy magic,” Beatrice said at once, her tone firm but humble. “Healing and light prayers.”

“Rear support,” Lyle nodded. “Stay alive. You’re the anchor.”

Nisha stepped forward, rapier glinting in her hand. “I duel, swift strikes. My brother and I train together.”

Nasha grinned, hefting his paired blades one long, one short. “I’ll be the shield. Let me take the front.”

“Good,” Lyle said. “Balanced offense and defense.”

Edmund snorted and let his aura flare, crimson energy rippling across his gauntlet blades. “And me? I crush things. Simple.”

The walls carried the sound of his aura like a drumbeat. From deeper in the cave, shrieks echoed in response.

Lyle pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tone it down. You just rang the dinner bell.”

From the rear, Beatrice snapped, “You muscle-headed idiot!”“That isn’t very saintly of you, candidate,” Edmund shot back with a grin.

The twins groaned in unison.

Lyle turned, eyes settling on the quiet boy at the edge. “And you, Naomiel?”

The young noble raised his hand. Wisps of fire, ice, and lightning flickered into being, swirling around his fingers before vanishing.

“Mage,” he said simply. His voice was soft, almost swallowed by the cavern.

“That’s amazing,” Lyle said, genuine admiration in his tone.

Naomiel dipped his head. “Thank you… Mr. Guide.”

With all their cards on the table, Lyle laid out positions. “Beatrice in the back. Nisha guarding her left, Naomiel her right. Nasha front-left, Edmund front-right. I’ll float between.” His eyes hardened. “Listen to my calls. The raid starts now.”

The cavern forked into three passages. Before Lyle could signal which route to take, shadows shifted. Six goblins burst forward three warriors snarling with crude blades, three archers already loosing arrows.

“They’re patrolling,” Lyle said. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Edmund was already moving, a blur of metal as he slammed his gauntlet blade through the first goblin’s neck. Blood sprayed, and he barked a laugh. “Too easy!”

“Reckless buffoon!” Beatrice shouted, clutching her staff.

The twins flowed in beside him, covering his flanks. Nasha intercepted a swing with crossed blades, Nisha darting past him to pierce a goblin’s throat with surgical grace.

Naomiel whispered an incantation. Three wisps shot forward, one engulfing an archer in flames, another freezing a bowstring mid-draw, the last crackling lightning across two at once. The goblins shrieked, convulsing.

“Not bad,” Lyle muttered then raised his hand sharply. “Hold! Hear that?”

The cavern answered with a chorus of screeches. More. Many more.

Twenty goblins poured in from the shadows, blades and bows glinting in the orb’s light.

“This isn’t a patrol anymore,” Nasha muttered, setting his stance.

“Then we finish the mission now!” Edmund roared, charging again.

An arrow hissed through the air and buried itself in his arm.

“Ahhh ! Heal me, Saintess!” he bellowed, clutching the wound.

“Use your potion, you idiot!” Beatrice snapped but still, her hands glowed, sealing the injury as she muttered furiously.

Lyle cut down a flanking goblin with a swift strike of his dagger. “Eyes up. They’re trying to surround us ”

Something whistled overhead. Nets dropped from hidden alcoves, tangling legs and weapons. The goblins shrieked triumphantly joined by deeper, guttural howls.

From the shadows, lanky figures emerged. Tall, snarling, jaws lined with jagged fangs. Gnolls.

“Careful!” Lyle barked. “Gnolls and goblins cohabit. And that one ” He pointed as a hulking brute stepped forward, scarred and armored crudely. “ that’s a lieutenant. Smart enough to lead them.”

The fight turned savage. The novices flailed against the coordinated assault, pinned against a wall. Edmund swung wildly, his confidence crumbling to panic.

“Guide!” he shouted, eyes wide. “We’re dying here!”

Lyle stepped forward, his orb casting his shadow tall against the cavern.“Listen carefully,” he said, voice steady as iron. “Follow my orders exactly, and you’ll live.”

He swept his gaze across them. “Potions. Now. Heal, drink, get ready.”

They obeyed. Even Edmund, pale and trembling, downed his potion in silence.

“Edmund,” Lyle said, locking eyes with him. “Right flank. Don’t attack. Defend only. If they breach behind us, we’re finished.”

“…Affirmative.”

“Nasha, you’re with me. Nisha, guard Beatrice and Naomiel. Beatrice, heal only when I call for it. Naomiel…”

The boy nodded silently, conjuring a ring of wisps around him.

Lyle’s smile flickered. “I’ll rely on you.”

Then he moved.

The dagger in his hand flashed once, severing a net. He vaulted off a goblin’s back, kicked against the wall, and flipped into the air. His boots slammed into a gnoll’s skull.

“Amazing,” Nasha breathed. “He’s using them as footholds ”

“Wait he’s not even using his weapon?” Beatrice gasped.

Naomiel’s eyes gleamed. “He is. Just not yet.”

Lyle darted through the chaos, every motion sharp and purposeful. In less than three minutes, the lieutenants lay dead, their bodies crumpling with sickening thuds.

“Other two are gone,” Lyle said, landing lightly before them. “Now clean it up.”

Rallying, the prodigies fought with renewed vigor. Inspired, their blades and spells cut through the remaining goblins and gnolls until silence returned to the cavern.

The group collapsed into a panting heap. Around them, the ground was littered with corpses thirty goblins, nine gnolls, three lieutenants.

“W-we… survived,” Nisha gasped, gripping her rapier with shaking hands. “It’s nothing like training simulations.”

Beatrice bowed her head, eyes warm. “Mr. Lyle… thank you. Truly.”

To everyone’s shock, Edmund laughed weakly. “Yeah… thanks for saving our asses. I was wrong. I know my limits now. Hope we can be friends.”

Lyle chuckled softly, wiping blood from his blade. “Of course. That’s why I’m here.”

He glanced around. “We’re not done. Herbs and crystals, then camp. Adventuring isn’t over until every task is finished.”

Later, under the glow of a small bonfire, the group rested. Packets of herbs and crystal shards lay neatly stacked.

The bonfire crackled, throwing warm light across their tired faces. For the first time since entering the den, the cavern felt less like a battlefield and more like a quiet refuge.

One by one, they began to talk.

Nasha leaned back on his pack, staring into the flames. “They call me a prodigy, and my family’s already grooming me as an emperor candidate. But honestly… I don’t care about the throne. I just want to become a true sword master. After today, seeing you fight, Lyle… I know how far I still have to go. And I want to be better.”

Nisha smiled faintly, twirling her rapier in her hand. “I want to create my own martial art. Something that looks like dancing, but sharp enough to kill. A sword style that’s graceful yet deadly.”

“You have the right foundation,” Lyle told her. “But remember, no matter how beautiful the dance, adventuring isn’t solo. Learn your role in a team or you won’t survive long enough to master it.”

Her eyes softened, and she nodded.

Beatrice clasped her hands. “I want to follow in my sister’s footsteps. She’s the Hero Saintess, and everyone reveres her. I… I want to become someone important too. Someone worthy of standing in a hero’s party.”

Lyle smiled at her earnestness.

Edmund smirked, rubbing his bandaged arm. “Everyone expects me to inherit my dukedom and drown in ledgers and treaties. Truth is, I’d rather sail a galleon and act like a pirate exploring islands, raiding treasures, seeing the world. That’s the freedom I want.”

A laugh circled the group, half in disbelief, half in envy.

Naomiel spoke last, his voice quiet but firm. “I want to build a school. Not just for nobles, but for anyone who can wield elemental orbs. To refine them, research them, make them more than just tools of war. That’s my dream.”

The others turned to Lyle.

“And you?” Beatrice asked.

Lyle stared into the fire, the bracelet on his wrist catching the glow. There was something he wanted something he couldn’t say aloud. Something too fragile to share.

So he gave the safe answer. “Me? I’ll follow what the Goddess decides. Whatever fate she gives, I’ll accept it.”

Silence fell for a beat. Then the teasing began.“Come on, Lyle, join me when I become sword master!” Nasha laughed.“No, he should be my dance partner in swordplay,” Nisha retorted.“He’d make a fine saint’s knight,” Beatrice chimed in.“Bah, he’ll sail with me,” Edmund declared.Naomiel only said, “He’d make a capable professor.”

Lyle chuckled, shaking his head. That time, he felt like part of a party.

The fire crackled. Their laughter softened. For a fleeting moment, the cavern felt less like a dungeon and more like a camp under the stars.

Then

A deep roar thundered from the depths, making them all jolt to their feet, blades half-drawn.

But no monster came.

Instead, the ground beneath their bonfire quivered. A faint rune shimmered once across the stone then vanished as the floor gave way.

With a deafening crack, the entire camp collapsed.

They tumbled into a pit, dust and sparks from the falling fire scattering like stars around them.

Lyle coughed, forcing himself upright, eyes narrowing as he scanned the new chamber.“…That roar was a distraction. This wasn’t part of the plan.”