The Goblin stared at the dust and rags of cloth that lay in front of him. The smell of decay and stagnation still emanated from it but at least it no longer moved around and fired spells at him. He let out a hiss and a whimper as Semilia stitched up the wounds on his arm and hand. Semilia smacked him on the back of his head when he tried to bite at her after she sewed his wounds close.

"Hurts!"

"You should've drunk some of Stefan's whiskey then! Stupid idiot!"

Semilia snapped back angrily at the Goblin as she closed the stitch.

"Alcohol not taste good. Argh! Careful!"

"If you don't want it to hurt, stop fussing around so much and just hold still! There! Finished!"

The Goblin immediately scampered away and scratched at the stitched up gash on his arm and on his hand.

Stefan watched them silently while he counted the people around them. From a group of around a hundred, only 43 remains. Some are unconscious, some are wounded, but most are up and kicking while they tended to each other's wounds. One of them is Jared, who screamed painfully while Mina popped his arm back into its socket. He held the two halves of his spear on his other hand while he screamed through the pain. Stefan sighed and drank the last of his whiskey while he tuned out Jared's cusses. He looked at the two wet spots on the ground beside him and he frowned deeply as he tucked away his silver flask.

"Ludwig, Arron... May the Goddess lead you to your next lives."

"A toast for the dead? A bit old fashioned for someone like you..."

His eyes looked up at Katherine. Her weak smile made Stefan glance at the splint Mina made for her arm. She noticed where he was looking and she let out a soft chuckle as she sat beside him.

"I'm doing fine, Stefan. No need to worry about it..."

"And Eric? He still hasn't waken up yet."

"He woke up earlier, but went to sleep again. Madame Azalia and the other spellcasters we have are still feverish. How about you, Stefan? You took a beating as well during the fight."

Her question made Stefan grunt and scratch at the bandages that wrapped around his upper arm.

"Semilia patched me up pretty well, I guess. Gods... I still can't believe we almost died there if it wasn't for-"

"The Goblin?"

"... Yeah, our friend."

Stefan and Katherine looked at the Goblin while he was being chastised by Semilia after he scratched open his wound.

"I wonder what made him choose to help us?"

"Knowing that damned Goblin, he's probably worried sick for us."

Stefan chuckled as they heard the Goblin yelp in pain after Semilia pinched his pointy ears.

"He really is a strange... creature. He didn't fight like a normal Goblin but his technique is brutish and inexperienced. But strangest of all, he actually came back for us instead of hiding away in that room."

"A Goblin that doesn't scamper away when danger is near. Very different from the ones that we have to fight."

"And a very dangerous creature."

Katherine said with a stern voice that made Stefan blink at her in surprise.

"Think about it, Stefan. What we have in front of us is a Goblin that could use magic. That is not a Shaman, but a Spellcaster. What's worse is that it's intelligent and it has a good head on its shoulders. What if that creature is able to make a tribe of its own?"

"That Goblin could never do such a thing. Look at it, Miss Katherine. It couldn't even kill that Slime, what makes you think that it can be a Chieftain? I've seen a Goblin Chieftain before, I killed one for God's sake! He doesn't have the coldness and brutality needed to hold together a tribe."

Stefan let out a sigh while Katherine just watched the Goblin warily.

The Goblin was being watched over by Semilia while she wrapped bandages around Orien's and Ameera's cuts. The Slime near her feet wrapped around her boot tightly while she worked. Stefan laughed softly at Semilia's annoyed cries and turned his attention towards Katherine. She still looked unsure about what to do with the Goblin, but it was clear that killing the creature was out of the question.

A rumble somewhere in the dungeon made Stefan's smile disappear. Without the magic that enchanted the dungeon's walls, this dungeon will surely collpase. The bodies of the people that died, what will happen to them now? He wondered if they should leave them behind as the place slowly collapses into itself. What about the treasure they promised to those who participated? The only treasures they found in the Lich's room were books that were rendered unreadable due to the Shadow Essence and worthless stones that lay shattered near his small hoard of books.

"The wounded, are they treated?"

"Most of them, yes. But the spellcasters are still unconscious. What should we do?"

"We carry them back to the surface, of course."

Stefan shoved his previous thoughts to the back of his mind. He will trouble himself with that, later.

For now, he will need to get everyone out of the dungeon and back to the surface. Katherine let out a sigh as she stood up from her spot. The look in her eyes told Stefan that they weren't finished talking about the Goblin, but he continued to ignore her. Instead, he looked at the spellcasters that shivered on the floor from their high fever. Riel would occasionally get such a fever, but it was rare for both him and Semilia to see. So seeing a large group of spellcasters suffering from mana defficiency was strange for Stefan.

He walked towards the Goblin, who was sitting beside Semilia with folded arms. The Goblin blinked at him curiously as he looked at the sleeping Riel near them. She had a slight fever, but it's not as bad as the other spellcasters. She was still awake, but she could barely move her body due to the fatigue and fever that ravaged her body. Stefan knelt beside her and placed a hand on her forehead. Of course, he had to put away the large, pointy cap to do it and Riel didn't like that.

"M-My hat!"

"Shut it, Riel. I need- Oh, that's pretty high."

"Of course it's high! Gods... my head is starting to hurt."

Riel clutched her head while Stefan put back the large hat on top of her face.

"How about you, Goblin? Do you have a fever?"

"Fever? Little hot, but not like..."

The Goblin glanced at Riel while she lay on the ground with a slightly red face.

"Not like Friend Riel. But arm still hurts."

"Because you keep scratching it you damned- Stop scratching it!"

Semilia shouted angrily while the Goblin stuck out his tongue at her.

"Arm very itchy! W-Wait! No! No pinch! No piiiiiiinch! Hiyaaaarrrrgghhh!"

The Goblin cried while Semilia pinched both of his ears with an angry expression on her face.

"Semilia, please stop bullying the poor thing."

"I'll stop when he finally learns his damn fucking lesson! Are ya' still gonna fucking scratch your wound or are you gonna stop?!"

"Stop! Please stop!"

The Goblin cried loudly before Semilia finally decided to let him go. The Goblin sniffled for a moment while he rubbed his red ears.

The Goblin snarled angrily while he pouted at the Low-Elf. His ears were one of the most sensitive parts of his body and now they stung and throbbed due to Semilia's pinches. He waddled towards Stefan while he rubbed his ears and he made dissastisfied clicks with his tongue. The Goblin looked at the Swordsman and the silver-haired girl standing just behind him. He tilted his head at them, his yellow eyes locked onto the strange woman behind his friend.

She looked at him warily while he just stared at her with an uncaring expression on his green face. The effects of [Mana Drain] did not affect him as badly as the other Mages, but he still felt queasy and weak. He did not have the energy nor the interest to ponder why exactly did the girl look at him with such an unsavory expression. Perhaps because he was a Goblin, or maybe it was something he said to her, he might never know. So instead of wasting his time asking such useless questions, he turned towards Stefan.

"Need anything? Potion? Wait, no more potions... Mushroom? I have lots!"

"I-It's okay, Goblin. I'm just wondering of you could help us get out of this dungeon."

"Get out? Oh! Up! I can help with "getting out" but need to get things first."

The Goblin glanced at the shattered pieces of his sword that lay on the ground. He didn't want to travel without any weapons, and some Health Potions would make him feel better as well.

"Thanks. Oh, I was also wondering what are you gonna do now that the dungeon has been cleared."

"Do? Hmm... Move to this room, I gue-"

The Goblin's head snapped to the right as the audible crack of stone echoed within the room's thick walls.

Stefan looked at the increasing number of cracks and holes appearing on the dungeon's walls. Pieces of the ceiling fell down on them and covered the Goblin's hair with gray dust. The Goblin grumbled angrily and turned towards the worried Riel and Semilia. He pulled out his notebook and the map that was tucked within its pages to find a possible safe route for all of them.

"Hmm... Friend Stefan, you can have map. Will help get you out of here."

"Goblin? Wait, you're not coming with us?"

The Goblin shook his head from side to side as he handed the map to Stefan.

"Up is dangerous. Not place for monster."

"Y-Yeah... But this place is gonna collapse soon, you know?"

"I know. Will try to find safe place in dungeon before that happens."

Stefan knew that was a lie, and he gave the Goblin a concerned look.

The dungeon was dead. Without a source of mana, the magic that held it together was now gone and it won't be long until this dungeon collapses. Stefan could tell that the Goblin already knows this, his yellow eyes glued on the cracking walls and falling debris around him. In this place, there would be no safe place for him to hide or live in peace. No food or water for him to sustain himself and certainly no friends to come and visit him in such a dangerous place.

But where else could he go? Stefan looked at the Goblin and frowned to himself. He wondered if he really was a threat, if he was a monster that should be put down. Could the Goblin survive in the forest with beasts more terrifying than Giant Spiders and Giant Rats? Stefan wracked his head for answers while the Goblin wrapped his old, leather cloak around his shoulders.

"Need to get things now. Not safe right now."

"Goblin, look-"

"Bye-bye!"

Before he could say another word, before he could ask the Goblin if he could leave this place...

The Goblin ran away into the darkness of the dungeon.

He looked at the crumbling pillars and stone around him and he let out a sigh. For them, it was just a place of death meant to be subjugated and cleared. But for him, it was his world. The grey stone and black granite and the things that lurked around the corners of the now caved in passages were all that he knew. He could tell that Stefan wanted him to simply leave all of it behind, but there's no place for a creature like him up there.

He scratched at the scars on his back at the memory of his past. The vivid recollection of people with swords, steel, and fire as they massacred his tribe made him shudder. They looked like the other adventurers, with their disgusted sneers and eyes filled with hate. They aren't as kind as Stefan, they aren't as fun to be around with like Semilia, and they did not alk to him passionately about magic like Riel. They were just people who saw him as a Goblin. A dirty Goblin with magic and enchanted weapons.

Giant Rats scampered away as the dungeon's many passages collapsed. Gaping holes opened up in some areas before being sealed up by the rubble of a few dozen floors above it. And amidst the chaos, the Goblin climbed up the hole they used to cut through ten of the dungeon's floors. It was a deep hole, but the ropes they brought with them were enough and it wasn't that hard for him to use the rocks that jutted out of the sides as leverage. It was strange for him to hear the dungeon slowly breaking down around him, and stranger still to see the Giant Spiders above him scampering away towards the upper areas of the dungeon.

Were they gonna go outside? Will they find a safer area to nest within the dungeon? He had no answer for his own questions, only more questions that made his head hurt. His hands grasped at the end of the rope and the sturdy pillar they tied it to and he pulled himself up from the hole. His home was right in front of him, the familiar door beckoned him closer with its glowing runes.

He let out an annoyed groan as he pushed the large chunk of stone out of the door's way. He entered his room, only to find it in ruins and filled with broken rubble. Half of the room was just a pile of large rocks while the other half looked like it was about to collapse as well. But as he walked over to the now broken stone table, he heard the crack of stone and the rumble of a mountain over him. The room itself was gonna cave in soon, and the Goblin knew he had to get out of there or risk being crushed beneath the rubble. The Goblin dashed immediately for his beloved chest and at the valuables contained within it.

He threw the chest's lid open while the room fell apart around him and immediately laid his yellow eyes on the only two bags that was important to him. He grabbed the Bag of Holding filled with his magical books and a dagger that looked nice. He flung the heavy bag over his shoulder and grabbed another bag just as the ceiling of his room cracked and fell apart. His feet carried him with tremendous speed as he lunged for the door. Rocks fell around him just as he managed to leap out of the open door and into the empty corridor.

His yellow eyes watched helplessly as his moving chest was crushed under the weight of the collapsing room. Some of the bags still had items he wanted to study and tinker with, but those things will forever be lost. It was a shame, but most of them were worthless coins to him anyway. After all, what could a Goblin like him do with such things? So why is he crying over such things? Tears fell like a torrent down his cheeks as he saw his hardwork disappear right before his eyes.

He cried and cried, alone in the darkness. Gold and silver was useless for a creature like him. Swords too big and staffs that were too long were not meant for him. So why did he cry for its loss? He asked the question to himself over and over as his hands clutched at the only two bags he managed to save. He let out a cry of frustration and pain before he decided to lay down on the dusty floor for a moment. It was cold and dirty, but laying down helped him think.

What's important is that he managed to save his books and treasures from being buried under the mountain. He smiled proudly to himself as he patted the Bag of Holding that contained the carious items he hoarded during his travels. They were worth more than mountains of gold and silver to him, and he needed to keep them safe. It wasn't the first treasure hoard he lost, but at least he managed to get some books out of it unlike last time.

The dungeon proved to the Goblin that going down is easier than going up. He let out an annoyed cuss as he ascended the stairs led up to the 40th floor of the dungeon. The heavy weight on his shoulder didn't help him at all, and he wondered if he should've just left the books behind. He shook his head at the thought and shoved it to the back of his mind. It was a bad thought, and he shouldn't think about it anymore.

"I'thr harik! Ik ir kir ik'l!"

"Miu?"

"Cover ears. Not for you."

The Slime hid inside his shoe as the Goblin continued to cuss and curse at the steep stairs.

It's not that he hated stairs, he hated it when rocks kept falling on him as he climbed. It was getting annoying now and he could feel the bumps on his head growing in number with each small pebble that fell on him. He growled angrily as he tripped on the now uneven set of stairs and he hissed whenever he heard the walls beside him cracked loudly.

The dungeon was no longer a safe place for him. He would need to leave it if he wanted to survive, but where would he go? He wondered if he should find what remains of his tribe and if his brother still lives. He shook his head at the idea, he was an outcast there. Well, he's an outcast everywhere but he didn't even have a place in his own tribe due to his strangeness. They're probably dead anyway since Goblins living above don't last very long.

He clutched at the notebook instinctively and he remembered the person that gave it to him. He wondered if she was doing alright, and if she still remembers him. She was strange, stranger than him. He remembered the weird clothes she wore when they first met and how he found her eating the rabbits and mushrooms he hunted and cooked. Then he remembered his promise to her when he left, and his heart slightly ached at the memory of her sad expression.

"Diary... Weird thing, but good for notes."

He muttered softly as he finally reached the top of the damned stairs.

Maria probably doesn't remember a Goblin like him. In fact, who would remember a Goblin like him? It's not like he was important to anyone. He wasn't a girl that carried a strange box that glowed with no magic or a creature that feasts on the souls of those who died in the dungeon. He was just a Goblin that managed to learn magic in some dank room in a dungeon.

He was just that... A Goblin.