A few days later, Faust was ready. He wiped the sweat from his forehead as he stared down the right pathway.
During these days, he trained with the goblin constantly, refining his control over it. At the same time, he had engraved even more detonation runes into the floor and walls—almost doubling their original number. Now, he could take down even more goblins at once.
"Alright. It's time."
He left his goblin at the rune zone.
Then, he rushed to the edge of the goblin camp and waited patiently. Eventually, four goblins wandered away from the main group. Two of them were armed with crude stone knives and wore partial leather armor over their chests. The other two were unarmed.
Faust waited until they were far enough from the camp, then tossed a chunk of meat in their direction. The goblins approached it, their twisted faces leaning closer to inspect the bait. While they were distracted, Faust fired a mana bullet at one of them.
The shot struck. The goblins screeched and, just like before, charged straight at him.
Faust turned and bolted back to the rune area, positioning himself behind his goblin. The group followed him without hesitation. They had greater numbers; they were not afraid of a human child.
The first goblin lunged.
Faust flinched a little, but he was confident. He stood behind his controlled goblin, confident that, worst-case scenario, he wouldn't be the one taking the hit.
Two runes near the charging goblin detonated. The blast hurled the creature through the air, but it was still alive, crawling and snarling.
One of the armed goblins rushed at him next.
Faust detonated the runes carved into the nearby wall. The blast disrupted the goblin's leap, sending it tumbling to the ground. As it fell, the other two unarmed goblins sprang forward, and the previously downed one scrambled to its feet, coordinating a combined attack.
"Detonate," Faust willed.
Eight runes erupted in a violent series of explosions.
Two detonated beneath the armored goblin, blasting it into the air. Another hit its flank, knocking it unconscious. The remaining five were aimed at the two unarmed goblins. These were half-powered detonation runes—new, untested.
He had recently categorized the detonation runes into three types: low-powered, half-powered, and full-powered.
Low-powered runes could hurt the goblins.
Full-powered ones could tear off their limbs.
But half-powered? He hadn't tested them—that is, until now.
The explosion threw the goblins back. They lay on the ground, their bodies intact but bleeding from their mouths and noses. They didn't get up.
Then, the final armed goblin appeared in front of Faust, surprising him, it had been sneaking since he first got hit.
He couldn't risk detonating another rune—it would hit him too. Instead, he gave a mental command.
"Attack!"
His goblin moved. It slashed but missed. The enemy goblin retaliated with a stab, which his controlled goblin narrowly dodged. They exchanged a flurry of clumsy attacks.
Then Faust spotted an opening.
"Now!" he ordered.
His goblin slashed and cut into the enemy's arm. But before it could react, the enemy goblin drove its blade into its chest.
His goblin choked on blood.
"Finish it!" Faust willed, his focus sharp.
With one last motion, his goblin slashed the enemy's throat. It collapsed, bleeding out on the stone floor. Faust felt the bond sever.
His goblin looked back at him, rage in its eyes. The enemy's attack damaged Faust's rune, breaking it.
Thankfully, his goblin staggered and fell, blood pooling beneath it.
It was dead.
"Damn it! How did I let that stupid thing cause me so much loss. If it was me in the place of my goblin… I'd probably be dead too. I will not repeat the same mistake," Faust muttered, hate in his eyes. He couldn't accept that he had lost. Not to something he considered inferior.
Still, he shook the thoughts away. They wouldn't help him now, the damage was already done.
He approached the surviving goblins, still keeping his distance.
"Looks like half-powered runes aren't strong enough to dismember, but they definitely caused internal damage. I don't think they're getting up."
Subduing the three surviving goblins wouldn't be easy. The obedience rune consumed eighty percent of his total mana—nearly a full day's recovery. That meant one goblin per day—if he didn't fail. With three goblins, it would take about three days.
Tying up the alive goblins, he dragged them to the main room. Once they were secured, he returned to collect the two dead goblins. Their armor would be useful.
The subjugation process wasn't smooth. He failed twice. One rune collapsed mid-process, and the goblin bled away from all seven facial orifices before dying.
By the end of the week, Faust had successfully subdued two goblins. The mental strain was nearly double what it had been with just one.
He equipped both with a sword and a knife, along with leather armor. Then he ordered them to dismantle the corpses of the dead goblins.
For the remains, he scavenged materials. He crafted three makeshift javelins using the longer bones. For training, he used goblin meat as target dummies.
From their skin, he carefully cut out three pieces from each goblin, totaling nine. Over the course of a week, he meticulously drew detonation runes onto each one. He gave all of them to one goblin.
He had three makeshift bone javelins, usable as small spears too. Two well-equipped goblin slaves. Crude but effective armor made from skin and bones protected both his arms.
After having returned to the right pathway, he positioned himself closer to their camp than before. He counted: seven goblins in the camp, all walking within its perimeter. He waited. For hours, none left.
"I guess they finally realized something is wrong. Though after losing half their camp, I'd be surprised if they didn't," he thought.
"Alright. Let me begin then."
He ordered his goblin, the one carrying the skin pieces, to reenter the camp. He was placing his chances they wouldn't be wary of it, but even if they were, it wouldn't matter. The other goblins noticed him and began pushing him around, seemingly playing with him. They tried to communicate, but he ignored them.
"Idiotic creatures," he muttered, angered by the recent memory of the goblin who once killed its own kin that was under his control.
His goblin was able to move freely. The camp was simple—cloth "huts," scattered around and a fire pit. Under Faust's command, his goblin scattered the rune-etched skins throughout. The others noticed, but didn't care. Even though it was their own skin, they either didn't recognize it or simply didn't care.
When they lost interest, his goblin returned. No one followed.
"I'm not taking any more chances. A frontal assault would be costly… if I won at all," He mumbled. He had no illusions. It was highly probable that all his goblins would die—and that he'd be seriously injured, if not killed, in a direct clash. He couldn't afford that. He was also nearing the limit of his mental control, two more goblins at best would enough. He didn't need all of the camp alive.
Then he simply willed: "Detonate."
Dozens of runes across the skin fragments began to glow.
All full-power detonation runes. All charged to the limit.
BOOM! BOOM!
A chain of explosions tore through the camp.
Smoke coiled and drifted upward, thick and black. What remained of the 'huts' was ash. Screams began—but they didn't last.
Faust stood still at the edge of the camp, waiting.
Nothing happened, no retaliation or survivors crawling out. Just smoke. Just stillness.
This was it.
All those hours spent carving runes, training with the goblins, rationing mana like his life depended on it. They had finally paid off.
Faust let out a slow breath. Then he smiled.
It was an overwhelming victory. Efficient. Precise. A massacre by design.
It didn't matter that it was boring. Or quick. He wasn't a warrior. He wasn't even a proper mage. Just a planner.
So he did. He planned. And through that, he won.
He advanced into their camp, his bare feet crunching over the debris. He had one goblin in front, another behind.
The camp was in ruins. The fire pit was gone, swallowed whole by the blast. Blood soaked into stone. Scattered limbs and body parts littered the ground.
He searched. After a few more minutes, he found two survivors. That was surprising—he had expected none. But that was a good surprise.
One was in decent condition, bleeding but alive. The other was unconscious beneath rubble, its body muscles were exposed and it was in a bad condition, miraculously alive though.
He ordered his goblins to tie them up and took them back to his base. No need to advance further—not yet. He had been patient until now, why rush things at such a crucial moment?
Four days later, he had subdued both, with only one failed attempt. The failure harmed but didn't kill the goblin. Still, Faust had reached his limit. His mind felt like it was carrying a hundred stones and a headache assaulted his head. He knew that if he tried to subdue more it would be harmful.
He crafted more weapons—more javelins, more runes etched into skin. Faust was completely prepared once again.
His body was in the best condition since his fall into this damned cave. His dark-red eyes glowed faintly in the shadows. His black hair now reached his shoulders. His lean body showed growing muscle.
He was reborn.
From the boy who had fallen into the darkness—he became the one who thrived in it.
Faust returned to the right pathway with his goblins. He passed the goblin camp remains and continued for a few kilometers until he saw his first turn in this cave. He didn't stop walking.
Then light blinded him. Wind whispered through the tunnel. Moments later, he saw trees.
Just inside the cave, but just ahead was the exit. A forest.
Smiling, his eyes watered—maybe from the strong light.
But then he turned back.
Not yet.
There was still one problem left.
All preparations were complete.
He swept his black hair back.
"The black creature. It's its turn."
"If I can't kill it, I can't kill humans. That means my revenge fails. Goblins are easy. They're not the real target."
He went back to the left pathway, toward the 'graveyard,' eventually reaching it.
Determination burned in his crimson gaze.
There it was. Atop the dark monolith, the black creature sat on the ebony coffin.
The creature stood, brandishing sword and spear.
Faust stood behind his four goblins.
Their eyes locked.