Chapter 8: Escaping the Betrayers

Sorin and the rest of the prisoners sat in hushed circles, whispering plans beneath the dim glow of flickering torches. Tonight was the night. Their bodies ached from labor, but they were determined. They had worked the mines long enough, and escape was their only option. Sorin had gained several levels in Mining, not that it mattered much compared to their impending freedom.

The goblins delivered their usual gruel, a foul-smelling concoction that was more sludge than sustenance. Sorin didn’t touch it. Florin strolled by, smirking as he kicked the bowl closer.

“What? Think you’re too good to eat with the rest of the filth?” Florin sneered. “Go ahead, starve. You’ll be too weak to lift that pickaxe soon enough.”

Sorin clenched his fists but said nothing. His hunger was secondary to his rage.

Every so often, goblin guards would pass by, their beady eyes scanning the prisoners. Sorin suspected one of them had an Analyze ability like his, but it didn’t matter. They had one shot at this, and they had to move fast.

As the night deepened, torches flared to life around the camp, signaling the shift change. The goblins led them—chained together as usual—back into the mines.

“Work!” a goblin barked, lashing Korovh across the back. The dwarf barely grunted as he hefted his pickaxe. “Find more ore!”

The prisoners fell into their routine.

Whack. Whack. Whack.

Sorin drove his pickaxe deeper into the wall, each swing fueled by the knowledge that it was nearly time.

Minutes passed before the next ore cart arrived. That was the signal.

Sorin straightened up and called out—his voice laced with urgency. “Iron! I found iron!”

The guards rushed over, eyes gleaming with greed. As they leaned in to inspect the small vein of metal Sorin had chipped away, the prisoners struck.

Pickaxes met skulls. Chains became weapons.

It was a brief, brutal fight. The goblins never saw it coming.

“Go! Now!” Sorin shouted as he and the others broke into a run, chains clinking with every step.

The cavern echoed with shrill cries as the goblins realized their prisoners had escaped. The heavy footfalls of pursuing warriors grew louder by the second.

They burst into the open chamber ahead—straight into a trap.

Zarin. Celis. Florin.

The three stood before the Dungeon Heart, grinning like wolves.

“See? I told you he’d take the bait,” Zarin chuckled, resting her axe against her shoulder.

Florin shook his head, eyes gleaming with malice. “Did you really think you could teleport out of here? That’s just a fairy tale, you idiot. But thanks for leading the others here. Saves us the trouble.”

Sorin’s blood boiled. They had been set up.

Behind him, the prisoners collapsed to their knees, hope crushed.

Sorin alone remained standing, seething. “You won’t get away with this.”

Florin laughed. “We already have, little boy.” He raised his bow. The arrow sank into Sorin’s shoulder, sending him staggering back.

“Florin,” Celis said, smirking. “Try not to kill him. He still owes us a fair bit of gold.”

Sorin gritted his teeth, fury searing through him. He dug deep, pulling on something instinctual, something raw.

Mana surged through his veins.

He thought back to his childhood, to a show he had loved. He envisioned the energy, willed it into his hands.

Light flared in his palms.

Celis’s eyes widened. “That’s—”

Sorin shoved his hands forward.

A beam of pure energy erupted, slamming into Florin’s chest. The elf’s body burned as he crumpled to the ground, unmoving.

“No! Florin!” Celis shrieked, launching ice bolts. Sorin dodged two, but the third struck true, chilling him to his core.

He had no time to recover. Celis was casting again, and Zarin was almost upon him. One of the prisoners tackled her legs, sending her sprawling.

Sorin saw his opening.

He poured the last of his mana into his hands, charging the spell even longer this time.

Just as Celis unleashed her next attack, he fired his own.

The blazing beam struck her arm, disintegrating it in an instant. She screamed, collapsing from the spell’s backlash.

Zarin roared in frustration, gripping her axe. She was about to strike when a prompt flashed in Sorin’s vision.

Dungeon Teleport Available. Would you like to return to the forest entrance? Yes / No

Sorin grinned through the pain.

“Guess you were right, Zarin.”

He hit Yes.

A surge of light consumed him and the shackled prisoners.

And in the blink of an eye—

They were free.