A black hobgoblin.
Towering, nearly twice a man's height, its body lean but dense—like iron forged into flesh. Long limbs ended in clawed hands that scraped faint lines into the stone with idle pressure.
Its face was sharp, cruel, and unnervingly intelligent.
Yellow eyes glowed beneath a heavy brow ridge.
Its mouth curled slightly, revealing jagged teeth that had seen far too many victories.
Old scars crossed its body—proof not of weakness, but of survival.
This was not something that had merely been placed here.
This was something that had endured.
In one hand, it held the broken remains of the girl's spear.
Snapped.
Bent.
Bloodied.
It let the weapon fall.
**Clang.**
The sound echoed through the chamber.
Then the voice returned.
Smooth.
Pleased.
Almost amused.
"…Excellent."
A pause.
"…Most teams have now passed through the corridor."
The chamber seemed to darken slightly as the words settled.
"…And as some of you may have noticed…"
Another pause.
"…the end of each corridor contains a magical creature."
Seryna's eyes narrowed.
Kaelira's tail stilled completely.
"…Its rank…" the voice continued, "…is random."
A soft chuckle.
"…You may encounter an F-rank."
"…Or perhaps E."
"…D."
"…C."
A pause—long enough for hope to form.
Then break.
"…Or maybe…"
The black hobgoblin's claws flexed slowly.
"…a B-rank."
Silence.
Heavy. Cold.
The mage's voice cracked slightly.
"…B-rank…?"
Because they all understood.
A B-rank magical creature was not something awakened humans handled lightly.
Not here.
Not after a gauntlet like this.
Not without preparation.
Not without loss.
The voice continued, unbothered.
"…Kill the magical creature…"
A pause.
"…and you may advance."
Another pause.
"…Fail…"
No one needed the rest.
Because they already felt it.
The hobgoblin moved.
One slow step.
Claw dragging across stone.
A long, grinding shriek filled the air.
And then—
It smiled.
Horrible.
Too human.
Too aware.
Kaelira clicked her tongue, low and irritated, but her eyes were already sharpened.
"…Great."
Mana crackled harder around her.
"…A damn B-rank."
Seryna stepped forward slightly.
Lightning gathering again.
"…No."
Her voice was calm.
Measured.
"…A wounded B-rank."
All eyes shifted to her.
She nodded once—toward the corpse, toward the broken spear, toward the shallow cuts already etched into the creature's forearms.
Small.
Almost insignificant.
Against something like this.
Kaelira's ears twitched sharply.
"…What are you talking about?" she snapped, eyes narrowing. "…There's no way someone that weak did *that*."
But her gaze followed Seryna's.
To the body.
To the traces of struggle.
To the black hobgoblin standing in the dim light—
And the cuts on its arms.
Real.
Recent.
Earned.
The hobgoblin's yellow eyes glinted.
Its claws flexed slowly.
Not aimlessly—but with intent.
As if it understood their conversation.
As if it found it amusing.
Seryna didn't look at Kaelira.
Her gaze remained locked on the creature ahead—steady, analytical, unshaken.
"She was weak," Seryna said calmly.
"…Not harmless."
A brief pause.
"She had no mana, but she had instincts. Training. Desperation."
Her voice stayed even.
"And desperation makes people dangerous."
The mage, still on one knee, forced himself to lift his head. His breathing had steadied slightly now.
His eyes moved carefully across the hobgoblin's posture.
The weight distribution.
The tension in its shoulders.
The subtle alignment of its legs.
"…She's right," he said quietly.
"…Look closely."
Kaelira clicked her tongue, irritation flickering across her face—
—but she looked.
Really looked.
The creature's left leg.
Its stance.
Subtle.
Barely noticeable at first glance.
But there.
A slight favoring of one side.
Its weight wasn't fully balanced.
Lucien's sister stepped forward slightly, sweat still trailing down her brow.
"…Its breathing…" she muttered.
"…It's heavier than it should be…"
The hobgoblin's chest rose and fell.
Slow. Controlled.
But deeper than it should have been.
Not exhaustion.
Damage.
Kaelira's eyes sharpened.
Recognition replacing doubt.
"…Huh."
She rolled her shoulders once.
Mana flaring hotter around her arms.
"…So that poor girl actually made it bleed."
There was no mockery in her voice now.
Only acknowledgment.
Seryna finally turned her head slightly.
Her lightning crackled louder.
"…That matters."
The hobgoblin's grin widened.
Not in confusion.
Not in ignorance.
In understanding.
As if it were amused that prey had started discussing its weaknesses aloud.
Kaelira's ears flattened slightly—not from fear, but focus.
Her tail lashed once behind her as she kept her gaze locked on it.
On its stance.
Its claws.
Its eyes.
"…To hell with that," she said lowly.
No sarcasm now.
Only certainty.
She stepped forward, mana tightening around her body like armor made of pressure and heat.
"…You think because it's bleeding, that makes this easier?"
Her eyes narrowed.
Predatory.
"…Have any of you actually fought one of these before?"
Silence answered her.
The mage didn't respond. He hadn't.
Seryna didn't answer either.
Knowledge wasn't experience.
Lucien's sister watched quietly—measuring, listening.
Kaelira exhaled once.
Then spoke again.
"…They're smart."
A pause.
"…Smarter than most people."
Her gaze never left the hobgoblin.
"…They bait."
"…They feint."
"…They let you think you've got an opening…"
Her voice dropped lower.
"…And then they rip your throat out the second you believe it."
The hobgoblin's grin widened slightly.
As if it approved.
As if it *enjoyed* being understood.
Kaelira bared her teeth faintly—not a smile, but a warning.
"…So forget all that wounded prey bullshit."
Her eyes flicked briefly to Seryna.
Not disrespect. Just clarity.
"…The moment you move…"
Mana flared violently around her.
"…You attack to kill."
Seryna's expression didn't change.
But her lightning answered louder.
Brighter.
Because Kaelira was right.
This wasn't a cornered beast.
It wasn't something to be worn down carefully.
It was a predator.
And hesitation—
would be fatal.
Lucien's sister stepped up beside them.
Her posture steady, composed—though her breathing was still uneven.
Her hand lifted slightly.
Fingers flexing.
Calling.
"Aelion."
The air shifted.
Invisible pressure coiled around her.
Sharper now.
More controlled.
Like wind turned into blades.
"…Then we end it fast," she said quietly.
The mage pushed himself fully upright.
His legs trembled, but he stood.
Because there was no other option.
Mana gathered between his hands again, forming a fragile barrier.
Weaker than before.
But still usable.
"…I can support for a little while," he said through clenched teeth.
"…Not long."
Seryna nodded once.
"…That's enough."
The hobgoblin shifted.
Just slightly.
Claws scraping once against stone.